Collard greens have always meant home to me. Growing up in a legacy of Texas women, collards were tradition, ritual, and reassurance. They showed up at every holiday table, simmered low and slow, filling the house with a scent that told you everything was going to be alright. In Black culture, collard greens are both celebratory and comforting—our version of chicken noodle soup, passed down with care and pride.
Bussin’ Collard Greens Recipe
As a child, I was taught all the rules: elaborate cleaning baths with baking soda or vinegar depending on whose in the kitchen, tightly rolled leaves, always razor-thin chiffonades, and a level of seriousness that made collards feel like a culinary exam. But adulthood has a way of clarifying things. And what I’ve learned is this: the joy is in the eating, not the extra steps. So I put away childish things—and kept what mattered. This recipe is my grown, confident, no-nonsense version of collard greens. It’s rich, smoky, deeply flavorful, and uncomplicated. It gets straight to the reward we all want: a bussin’ pot of perfectly cooked greens.
The New Philosophy—Flavor Without the Fuss
I usually start with three or more bunches of collard greens and a mixed pack of smoked turkey wings and drumsticks. First, I clean my sink thoroughly—this is essential. In one basin, I fill cold water with a generous amount of iodized salt (the salt I use for most cooking waters). This will be the resting place for my greens.
In the other basin, I wash each leaf individually under running water before removing the leaves from the stems. I only remove the larger stems—I actually like a bit of stem left in my collards. It gives the final dish a heartier bite and a more satisfying bowl. Once the leaves are rinsed and ribbed, they go straight into the salt bath. I add a touch more salt, gently agitate the leaves with my hands, and let them soak for at least 30 minutes. Simple. Effective. No chemistry set required.
Building the Pot
While the collards enjoy their salt bath, I fill a large stock pot (15 quarts or more) with water and season it lightly—no more than ½ tablespoon of salt. Then I add up to two tablespoons of Knorr granulated chicken bouillon, which creates a savory base without overpowering the greens. I rough-chop one large white or yellow onion and layer it into the pot: a little onion, a little collards, a little onion, a little collards. Once all the greens are added, I season the pot with:
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1 teaspoon garlic powder
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1 teaspoon cayenne pepper
The Turkey Trick (Trust Me on This)
Now for my not-so-secret weapon: a reusable mesh soup bag. Depending on where you source your smoked turkey, it can sometimes break down during long cooking, releasing grit or residue that ruins the texture of the greens for me. I don’t play about mouthfeel. So I place my smoked turkey wings and drumsticks into the soup bag, then lower it directly into the pot. All the flavor, no weird of grit. If the turkey is smoked properly—and most good ones are—you won’t need a long list of seasonings. The richness comes from the meat itself.
Low, Slow, and Intentional
I bring the pot just to a boil, then reduce the heat to medium-low, letting the greens cook slowly for 2 to 3 hours, stirring regularly. We’re relying on the natural oils from the turkey to keep everything silky and prevent sticking, so gentle attention matters. As the greens cook, the broth deepens, darkens, and intensifies. This is where the magic happens. You’ll know they’re ready when the texture matches your preference. I like mine medium to medium-well—no crunch, but not falling apart, soft or mushy either.
Once the greens are done, I remove the soup bag and place the turkey into a large bowl. At this point, the meat should be falling right off the bone. I turn off the heat under the greens, let the simmer settle, then shred the turkey and stir it back into the pot. Serve hot. No apology necessary. This recipe makes a deeply flavorful, bussin’ pot of collard greens—mild enough for all ages, decadent enough for grown folks who know good food when they taste it.
Optional Heat
For spicier greens, add habanero peppers or extra cayenne to the pot during cooking. I usually taste the broth as I go—but honestly, once you understand collards, they’ll tell you what they need. Depending on what I’m serving them with, I might add hot sauce directly to my plate.
What You’ll Need
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3+ bunches collard greens
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1 pack smoked turkey wings & drumsticks
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1 large white or yellow onion

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