Few dishes carry the weight of history, culture, and pure comfort quite like a pot of Southern collard greens. The dark, sturdy leaves — slow-braised until silky and tender — have fed families across the American South for centuries, and their story is inseparable from the story of Black culinary heritage. Collards were among the few vegetables that enslaved Africans were permitted to grow in their own gardens, and the method they developed — cooking them low and slow with smoked meat in a rich, savory broth — became one of the most celebrated contributions to American cuisine. That broth, known as pot likker (or pot liquor), is so prized it gets its own conversation.
What makes collard greens endlessly compelling is how much range they have. The base dish is the same: leafy greens, smoky meat, liquid, time. But the variations that emerge from different cooks, different regions, and different traditions are extraordinary. Ham hocks, smoked turkey wings, bacon, smoked sausage — each one changes the character of the pot completely. And that’s before you start talking about heat, vinegar, sugar, and all the other variables that make every grandmother’s pot a little different from the next.
If you’ve only ever eaten one version of collard greens, you’re missing most of the picture. The eight recipes below pull from different corners of Southern tradition — from the deeply smoky and porky to the surprisingly bright and spicy, from the hearty meat-forward pot to a vegan version that holds its own against any of them. Whether you’re cooking for a holiday table, a weeknight dinner, or a New Year’s Day spread meant to bring in good fortune, there’s a pot of collard greens here with your name on it.
Table of Contents
- The History and Soul Behind Southern Collard Greens
- How to Clean, Prep, and Slice Collard Greens the Right Way
- Washing the Grit Out
- Removing the Stems
- Cutting for Even Cooking
- 1. Classic Southern Collard Greens with Ham Hock
- Why Ham Hock Is Non-Negotiable Here
- Building the Right Broth
- 2. Smoked Turkey Wings Collard Greens
- Choosing Your Turkey Pieces
- The Method Difference
- 3. Bacon and Collard Greens with Apple Cider Vinegar
- Why Apple Cider Vinegar Is More Than an Afterthought
- Getting the Timing Right
- 4. Spicy Collard Greens with Red Pepper Flakes and Hot Sauce
- Building Heat at Multiple Levels
- Who This Version Is For
- 5. Collard Greens and White Beans
- How to Build This Version
- 6. Collard Greens with Smoked Sausage
- Why the Sear Matters
- 7. Vegan Southern Collard Greens with Liquid Smoke
- The Umami Strategy
- 8. Collard Greens and Black-Eyed Peas
- The Flavor Architecture of This Pot
- What to Serve Alongside Your Collard Greens
- Storing, Reheating, and Making Collard Greens Ahead
- Final Thoughts
The History and Soul Behind Southern Collard Greens
Before any cooking happens, it’s worth understanding what these greens actually represent. Collard greens aren’t just a side dish — they’re a living piece of culinary and cultural history that stretches back further than most people realize.
Evidence points to collard greens originating in the eastern Mediterranean, with Greeks and Romans cultivating early members of the Brassica family. But it wasn’t until the transatlantic slave trade brought Africans to the American South in the 1600s that collard greens became the dish we know. Enslaved people were allowed to grow collards in small personal gardens, and they transformed these tough, bitter leaves into something extraordinary using what little they had — scraps of smoked pork from the plantation kitchen, water, and ingenuity. The resulting pot of braised greens, with its deeply flavored broth, was nourishing both physically and culturally.
Pot likker — the liquid gold left at the bottom of the collard pot — became so valued that it was consumed separately, as a broth. It carries the vitamins leached from the greens during long cooking, along with the smokiness of the meat and the depth of the aromatics. Throwing it away is genuinely considered a Southern sin.
Collard greens are also woven into Southern New Year’s traditions, where eating them on the first day of the year symbolizes financial prosperity — the green color representing money coming in. Paired with black-eyed peas for luck and cornbread for gold, it’s a meal that carries meaning in every bite.
South Carolina even named the collard green its official state vegetable, a recognition that was a long time coming.
How to Clean, Prep, and Slice Collard Greens the Right Way
Every recipe below starts with properly cleaned greens. Skip this step, and you’ll end up with a mouthful of grit — and no amount of smoky broth will save that experience.
Washing the Grit Out
Fresh collard greens hold dirt, sand, and sometimes small insects deep in the folds and ribs of their leaves. A quick rinse under the tap won’t cut it. Fill a clean sink with cold water, add the greens, and swish them vigorously with your hands for a full minute. You’ll see dirt settle to the bottom. Lift the greens out without draining the water over them — this is the critical move. If you pour the water through a colander, all that grit lands right back on your clean leaves.
Repeat the soak-and-lift process two or three times until the water at the bottom of the sink is completely clear. Some cooks add a splash of white vinegar to the first soak, which helps loosen debris and is especially useful for greens from a farmers market or a garden.
Removing the Stems
The center stem of a collard leaf is tough, fibrous, and takes significantly longer to tenderize than the leaf itself. Most Southern cooks remove it. Hold the stem with one hand and pull the leaf away with the other — it tears cleanly along the rib. You can also fold the leaf in half and run a paring knife down the center stem.
Don’t throw those stems away if you’re feeling resourceful. Dice them and simmer separately in seasoned broth until tender, then stir them into the pot at the end.
Cutting for Even Cooking
Stack 4 or 5 stripped leaves on top of each other, roll them tightly into a cigar shape, and slice crosswise into strips. Aim for pieces roughly 1 inch wide — small enough to be manageable on a fork, but large enough that they don’t disintegrate into the broth. Some cooks prefer tearing the leaves by hand, which creates irregular, rustic pieces that many feel cook more evenly.
1. Classic Southern Collard Greens with Ham Hock
This is the original. The recipe that generations of Southern cooks have made without measuring a thing — going purely by smell, taste, and feel. A ham hock is the undisputed king of the collard pot for good reason: the knuckle and bone release collagen as they simmer, which gives the pot likker a silky, almost glossy body that no other cut can replicate.
The method is straightforward and deeply satisfying. You build a smoky, aromatic broth first by simmering the ham hock with onion, garlic, and chicken stock for a full hour before the greens ever touch the pot. This head start matters — it means the liquid is already deeply flavored when the collards go in, so the greens absorb something extraordinary rather than plain seasoned water.
Why Ham Hock Is Non-Negotiable Here
Ham hocks are smoked pork knuckles — the lower leg joint — and they’re cheap, widely available, and loaded with connective tissue, gelatin, and fatty richness that melts into the broth over long cooking. They don’t give you a lot of actual meat (though what you do get, once shredded off the bone, is delicious stirred back into the pot), but they give you flavor that no amount of liquid smoke or ham slices can duplicate.
The ideal cooking time for the hock is 1 to 1.5 hours before adding the greens, then another 45 minutes to 1 hour with the collards in the pot. At the end, the meat should pull away from the bone with zero resistance.
Building the Right Broth
- Use chicken stock, not water, for the braising liquid — the difference in depth is significant
- Smash, don’t mince, the garlic cloves before adding them — smashed garlic releases flavor more slowly and evenly
- Sauté onion in bacon fat or lard before adding the hock — the caramelized onion edges build sweetness that balances the saltiness of the pork
- Add a splash of apple cider vinegar at the end, not the beginning — vinegar added too early can tighten the greens’ texture
Worth knowing: These taste noticeably better the next day after the greens have had time to absorb even more of the pot likker. Make them the day before if you’re cooking for company.
2. Smoked Turkey Wings Collard Greens
For cooks who don’t eat pork — or who simply want a lighter but still deeply smoky result — smoked turkey wings are the answer. This version of Southern collard greens is wildly popular throughout the South and produces a broth that’s every bit as rich and satisfying as the ham hock version, just with a different kind of smokiness.
Turkey wings have enough bone, skin, and connective tissue to build real body in a broth. The key is that the turkey must be smoked, not raw. A raw turkey wing will give you a pleasant, neutral stock. A smoked turkey wing gives you that low, earthy, campfire-adjacent flavor that collard greens need.
Choosing Your Turkey Pieces
Smoked turkey wings, legs, necks, and drumsticks all work in the collard pot. Wings tend to be easiest to find. Look for them at your local grocery store, a butcher, or a specialty Southern food shop. Many larger grocery chains carry them near the smoked meats section. Neck bones are a cheaper option that delivers tremendous flavor, though they’re a bit harder to work with.
The Method Difference
With smoked turkey, give the meat a thorough rinse before adding it to the pot — smoked turkey can carry a lot of surface salt that will throw off your seasoning if you don’t account for it. Simmer the turkey in chicken broth with your aromatics for 45 minutes to 1 hour, until the meat has released its flavor and started to soften.
- Pull the meat off the bones before adding the greens — turkey has more usable meat than ham hock, and the shredded pieces mixed into the finished pot are genuinely excellent
- Add red pepper flakes to this version — the turkey’s lighter flavor profile means you need a bit of heat to give the pot personality
- Finish with a teaspoon of hot sauce and a tablespoon of apple cider vinegar stirred in just before serving
This is the version to reach for at Thanksgiving, when smoked turkey parts are widely available and the whole meal already has a smoky, savory theme.
3. Bacon and Collard Greens with Apple Cider Vinegar
Bacon isn’t the traditional collard green meat — it doesn’t have the collagen and bone that build a truly rich broth — but it has fat, and fat is flavor. This version is faster to put together than the ham hock recipe and produces greens that are every bit as satisfying, with a pronounced smokiness and a bright tangy finish from a generous pour of apple cider vinegar.
Six strips of thick-cut hickory-smoked bacon, cooked until almost crisp in the bottom of a Dutch oven, leave behind a tablespoon or two of rendered fat. That fat becomes the cooking medium for the onions, which go in next and cook slowly until their edges turn golden. The combination of caramelized onion and bacon drippings is the flavor foundation that carries everything that follows.
Why Apple Cider Vinegar Is More Than an Afterthought
A quarter cup of apple cider vinegar added toward the end of cooking does three things simultaneously. It cuts through the richness of the bacon fat so the finished pot doesn’t feel heavy. It brightens the flavor of the greens, bringing forward their natural, slightly mineral earthiness. And it tames any residual bitterness from older leaves.
The vinegar should go in during the last 15 minutes of cooking, not at the start. Added too early, its sharpness cooks off entirely and you lose the tangy finish. Added at the very end, it never has time to mellow, and the raw edge can dominate.
Getting the Timing Right
- Cook the greens in chicken stock, not water, even with the bacon fat in the pot
- 2 to 3 hours of covered simmering on medium-low brings the greens to genuine tenderness — check at 90 minutes, but plan for longer
- Remove the bacon pieces before serving, crumble them, and scatter them back over the top so they add texture as a garnish
Pro tip: Serve with a bottle of hot pepper vinegar on the table — it’s the classic Southern condiment for greens, and it adds heat and acid in one shot.
4. Spicy Collard Greens with Red Pepper Flakes and Hot Sauce
Not every pot of collard greens needs to be deeply smoky and slow-building. This version leads with heat — real, present, upfront heat — and it’s built for people who like their greens with some fire. Red pepper flakes go into the pot early, sautéed with the aromatics so their heat blooms in the fat and infuses the broth from the very start.
The smoked meat here is ham hock or smoked turkey, depending on your preference. But the supporting cast is different from the classic recipe. Worcestershire sauce adds a layered, savory funk. A tablespoon of brown sugar balances the heat without making the pot taste sweet. And two teaspoons of smoked paprika deepens the color and adds another dimension of smokiness on top of whatever smoked meat you’re using.
Building Heat at Multiple Levels
The goal with this version isn’t a one-note blast of heat — it’s layered spice that builds gradually with each bite.
- Start with 1 teaspoon of red pepper flakes sautéed in the fat with the onions and garlic
- Add a teaspoon of hot sauce to the broth when you add your liquid
- Serve with additional hot sauce on the table so diners can customize
This approach means the heat is woven into the pot likker and coats every piece of green, rather than sitting on the surface as a garnish.
Who This Version Is For
This recipe works beautifully for people who find the classic version slightly one-dimensional. The Worcestershire and paprika add complexity that makes the pot taste like it has more ingredients than it does. It’s a good option for weeknight cooking when you want collard greens that feel bold and complete without spending three hours building a broth from scratch. Use 6 cups of chicken stock and let everything simmer together for 1.5 to 2 hours over medium-low heat.
5. Collard Greens and White Beans
This is the version that turns collard greens into a complete, satisfying meal rather than a side dish. White beans — cannellini or great northern — are braised right alongside the greens, absorbing the pot likker and turning creamy while the collards tenderize around them. The result is hearty enough to serve as a main course, especially with a skillet of cornbread on the side.
The combination of collard greens and beans has deep roots in Southern and Appalachian cooking. It was practical food — both ingredients were cheap, filling, and kept well — but it developed into something genuinely delicious. The beans add body to the broth, thickening it slightly as they break down, while their mild creaminess softens the slight bitterness of the greens.
How to Build This Version
Start with either ham hock or bacon — the smokiness is essential here, because beans and greens together without a smoky element can taste flat and plain. Build your broth with the smoked meat and aromatics first, then add the greens and canned white beans, drained and rinsed, at the same time.
- Use 2 cans (15 ounces each) of cannellini beans for a pot serving 6 people
- Don’t add the beans too early — they’ll break down into mush if they simmer for the full 2-plus hours the greens need. Add them during the last 30 to 45 minutes
- A pinch of dried thyme and a splash of white wine vinegar (instead of apple cider) gives this version a slightly different flavor profile that suits the beans well
Serve this version with hot cornbread, a drizzle of good olive oil over the top, and a scatter of red pepper flakes. It’s humble, warming food at its absolute best.
6. Collard Greens with Smoked Sausage
Andouille sausage or smoked kielbasa changes the entire personality of a collard green pot. The sausage brings a different kind of smokiness than ham hock — sharper, spicier, more assertive — and the sliced rounds distributed through the pot make this version feel more like a stew than a side dish.
Cut the sausage into half-inch rounds and sear them in the bottom of the Dutch oven over medium-high heat until they develop a brown crust on both sides. That crust adds depth and a slight caramelized sweetness that enriches the pot. Remove the sausage after searing, build your aromatics in the rendered fat, add your liquid, then return the sausage to the pot when the greens go in.
Why the Sear Matters
Skipping the sear — just dropping raw sausage slices into the pot — produces a dramatically different result. Seared sausage has browned exterior proteins that release complex flavor compounds into the broth as they simmer. Unseared sausage essentially poaches and contributes far less. The 4 to 5 minutes it takes to sear the sausage properly is one of the most impactful things you can do in this recipe.
- Andouille brings Cajun-inspired spice and a coarser grind — best for people who want bold heat
- Smoked kielbasa is milder and slightly sweeter — better for mixed crowds or when serving children
- Add 1 cup of diced tomatoes to the pot when you add the broth for a tomato-kissed variation that’s particularly good with andouille
This version is excellent served over rice, which soaks up the rich, spicy pot likker beautifully.
7. Vegan Southern Collard Greens with Liquid Smoke
Plenty of people assume that collard greens without smoked meat are a pale imitation of the real thing. They’re wrong — but only if you approach the vegan version with the same seriousness you’d bring to the meat version. The smokiness is the critical element to replace, and you can do it effectively with a combination of liquid smoke, smoked paprika, and umami-rich seasonings.
This version uses olive oil as the fat base, with yellow onion and garlic sautéed until soft and fragrant. The broth is vegetable stock — a good-quality one, not the watery kind — seasoned with liquid smoke (just a quarter teaspoon; it’s powerful), smoked paprika, garlic powder, nutritional yeast (which adds a savory, almost cheesy depth), soy sauce or liquid aminos, and a splash of apple cider vinegar.
The Umami Strategy
The reason most vegan collard greens fall flat isn’t the absence of meat — it’s the absence of glutamates, the compounds that create the savory, satisfying mouthfeel that smoked pork provides automatically. Nutritional yeast is one of the richest plant-based sources of glutamates available. Two tablespoons stirred into the broth makes the pot likker taste full and round rather than thin and watery.
- Add a piece of kombu (dried seaweed) to the simmering broth and remove it after 30 minutes — it adds a deep, mineral savoriness that’s almost impossible to pinpoint but immediately noticeable
- Season with smoked salt instead of regular kosher salt for an additional layer of smokiness
- Taste the broth before adding the greens and adjust — the broth should taste slightly too bold at this point, because the greens will dilute it
Simmer the greens for 1 to 1.5 hours, checking tenderness at the 45-minute mark. Serve with hot cornbread and a bottle of hot sauce.
8. Collard Greens and Black-Eyed Peas
This is the New Year’s Day pot. The combination of collard greens (representing money) and black-eyed peas (representing luck) is one of the most deeply rooted food traditions in the South, observed by countless families every January as a ritual for calling in prosperity and good fortune for the year ahead. But this pot is too good to save for one day a year — it deserves a place at the dinner table whenever you need something hearty, meaningful, and deeply satisfying.
The black-eyed peas can be dried (soaked overnight and then cooked separately until nearly tender before joining the greens pot) or canned (added in the last 30 minutes). Dried peas give you better texture and a creamier, starchier broth that makes the pot likker thicker and more substantial. Canned peas are a perfectly acceptable shortcut.
The Flavor Architecture of This Pot
The smoked meat here should be ham hock — the richest, most collagen-heavy option — because the black-eyed peas need significant body in the broth to taste their best. A thin, watery broth around black-eyed peas and collards is unsatisfying. A thick, smoky, gelatin-rich broth is transcendent.
- Cook the ham hock for a full 90 minutes before adding anything else
- Add the soaked, pre-cooked black-eyed peas and the collard greens at the same time
- Season with seasoned salt, black pepper, and red pepper flakes — this pot likes bold seasoning
- Finish with apple cider vinegar and taste carefully before serving
The pot likker in this version is extraordinary — thick, smoky, slightly starchy from the peas, and deeply savory from the collagen. Serve with skillet cornbread, and make extra. This pot improves significantly after sitting overnight.
What to Serve Alongside Your Collard Greens
No pot of Southern collard greens stands alone — it’s the anchor of a spread, not a solo act. The traditional pairings exist for good reason: they work.
Cornbread is the most essential companion. A wedge of skillet cornbread is meant for dunking into the pot likker, and the combination of crispy-edged, slightly sweet cornbread soaking up that smoky broth is one of the great pleasures of Southern cooking. Don’t sweeten your cornbread too much — the pot likker will provide contrast.
Fried chicken is the classic main course partner, with the greens cutting through the richness of the fried coating. Mac and cheese alongside greens is a combination that appears on virtually every Southern holiday table, and for good reason — the creamy, cheesy pasta softens against the assertive, savory greens perfectly.
For New Year’s, serve alongside hoppin’ John (black-eyed peas and rice), candied yams, and sweet potato pie for dessert. This is the full Southern New Year’s spread, and every element has tradition and meaning behind it.
A bottle of hot pepper vinegar should always be on the table when collard greens are served. It’s the condiment that’s been accompanying these greens for generations — the sharp heat and acid balance the richness of the pot in a way that no other sauce quite manages.
Storing, Reheating, and Making Collard Greens Ahead
Collard greens are one of the few dishes that genuinely, measurably improve overnight. The greens continue to absorb the pot likker as they sit, the flavors deepen and meld, and the whole pot becomes more rounded and cohesive the next day. This makes them ideal for making ahead — especially when you’re cooking for a holiday or a large group.
Refrigerator storage: Let the greens cool to room temperature, then transfer them with their pot likker into an airtight container. They keep well in the refrigerator for 3 to 5 days. Reheat on the stovetop over medium-low heat, stirring occasionally, until warmed through. The stovetop method is preferred over the microwave because it heats the greens and broth evenly without making the greens rubbery.
Freezer storage: Collard greens freeze well for up to 4 to 6 months. Store them with the pot likker in freezer-safe bags or containers, pressing out as much air as possible. Thaw overnight in the refrigerator, then reheat on the stovetop. The texture may soften slightly after freezing, but the flavor holds up well.
Make-ahead tip: If you’re preparing collard greens for a holiday meal, cooking them the day before is genuinely the best approach — not just a convenience, but an improvement. The one exception is finishing touches like vinegar and hot sauce, which are better added fresh when reheating rather than during the initial cook.
Final Thoughts
Southern collard greens are a masterclass in patience, simplicity, and the power of building flavor slowly. None of the eight recipes here require advanced technique or specialty equipment — just good ingredients, time, and attention. The pot does most of the work.
What separates an average pot of collards from a memorable one almost always comes down to two things: the quality of the smoked meat and the amount of time you give the greens. Rushing a pot of collard greens is one of the few genuine cooking mistakes you can make here. Two hours is a minimum for most of these recipes; three hours is better for the classic ham hock version.
And don’t forget the pot likker. Whatever version you make, ladle that broth generously into every serving bowl. It’s the soul of the dish — and as Ms. Franklin taught a young, uninitiated journalist from New Jersey many years ago, it’s where all the good stuff went.
