A few weeks ago, I picked up “The Book of Greens: A Cook’s Compendium,” hoping to claw my way out of what the author, Jenn Louis, diagnosed as a “three-green rut.” I had been making predictable salads — kale, romaine, a grudging nod to cabbage — and the book, which catalogs more than forty varieties of greens, seemed like the sort of thing that might inspire transformation. At the very least, I thought I’d meet a chic new chard.
I flipped through it dutifully, flagging recipes like Grilled Cabbage with Miso and Lime, a smoothie made with radish tops and mango and something involving tomato leaves in dough — dishes that suggested a certain culinary restlessness, or possibly a home cook on the brink. But what stopped me cold was a photograph: panna cotta.
