
Chef Remy
Alligator Sauce Piquante
Chunks of tender gator swimming in a brick-red tomato sauce with enough heat to make you reach for your sweet tea, spooned over rice the way the old Cajun trappers ate it after a long day on the bayou.
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Created by Chef Remy
Smoky ham hock and tender collard greens swimming in a broth so rich with minerals and flavor that your grandmother would call it medicine, served with hot cornbread for soaking up every last drop.
The potlikker is the treasure. That's what people miss when they throw it down the drain. All those vitamins, all that smoky pork flavor, all the essence of the greens themselves: it lives in that dark, murky broth. My grandmother Evangeline kept a pot of greens going on the back of the stove most winter days, and she'd ladle the potlikker into cups for us children like it was the elixir of life. She wasn't wrong.
This soup celebrates what Southern cooks have known for generations: the cooking liquid is not waste. It's the whole point. You take a smoked ham hock, some sturdy collard greens, and you let time do its work. The collagen from the hock melts into the broth, giving it body. The greens release their minerals and their slight bitterness, which plays against the smoke and salt of the pork. By the time you're done, you've got a soup that warms you from the inside out.
At Lagniappe, we serve this on New Year's Day alongside black-eyed peas and rice. Tradition says greens bring money in the coming year, the peas bring luck. I don't know about all that, but I do know this soup brings comfort. That's enough magic for me.
The technique is simple, but you've got to respect the timing. Season the broth as you build it. Taste throughout. And for heaven's sake, serve it with cornbread. A bowl of potlikker without cornbread for dunking is like a handshake without the grip.
Quantity
2 large (about 2 pounds total)
Quantity
3 quarts
Quantity
1 large
diced
Quantity
4
smashed
Quantity
2
Quantity
1 teaspoon
Quantity
1 tablespoon
Quantity
2 large bunches (about 2 pounds)
Quantity
1 tablespoon, plus more to taste
Quantity
1 teaspoon
freshly cracked
Quantity
1 teaspoon
Quantity
for serving
Quantity
for serving
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| smoked ham hocks | 2 large (about 2 pounds total) |
| cold water | 3 quarts |
| yellow oniondiced | 1 large |
| garlic clovessmashed | 4 |
| bay leaves | 2 |
| crushed red pepper flakes | 1 teaspoon |
| apple cider vinegar | 1 tablespoon |
| collard greens | 2 large bunches (about 2 pounds) |
| kosher salt | 1 tablespoon, plus more to taste |
| black pepperfreshly cracked | 1 teaspoon |
| smoked paprika | 1 teaspoon |
| hot sauce (optional) | for serving |
| cornbread | for serving |
Place the ham hocks in a large Dutch oven or heavy stockpot. Cover with the cold water. You want the hocks submerged by at least two inches. Cold water extracts flavor slowly and evenly, so don't rush this with hot water from the tap. Set over medium-high heat and bring to a simmer. You'll see foam rising to the surface. Skim it away with a large spoon. This keeps your broth clean and clear.
Once you've skimmed the foam, add the diced onion, smashed garlic, bay leaves, red pepper flakes, and half the salt. Reduce heat to low so you see lazy bubbles rising every few seconds, not a rolling boil. Cover and let this simmer for one and a half hours. The hocks need time to surrender their collagen and smoke flavor to the water. Your kitchen will start smelling like Sunday dinner.
While the broth simmers, wash your collard greens thoroughly. Fill your sink with cold water and swish the leaves around to release any grit. Lift them out (the dirt sinks) and repeat until no sand settles at the bottom. Strip the leaves from the thick center stems by folding each leaf in half and running your knife along the rib. Stack the leaves, roll them like a cigar, and slice into one-inch ribbons. You'll have a mountain of greens. They cook down to almost nothing.
After ninety minutes of simmering, the meat should pull away from the bone easily. Transfer the hocks to a cutting board. When cool enough to handle, pull the meat from the bones, discarding the skin and fatty bits unless you like them (some folks do). Shred the meat into bite-sized pieces. Return the bones to the pot for more flavor extraction. You'll fish them out later.
Add the collard ribbons to the pot in batches, pushing them down into the broth as they wilt. They seem like too much at first, but trust me. Add the apple cider vinegar, smoked paprika, black pepper, and remaining salt. The vinegar brightens everything and helps tenderize the greens. Stir to combine, then cover and simmer for another 45 minutes to one hour, until the greens are silky and tender but still have some body.
Remove the bay leaves and bones from the pot. Return the shredded ham meat to the soup. Taste the potlikker now. This is the moment of truth. Does it need more salt? More vinegar for brightness? A pinch more pepper for warmth? Adjust until it sings. The broth should taste deeply savory with a whisper of smoke and just enough tang to keep things lively.
Ladle generous portions into deep bowls, making sure everyone gets plenty of greens, meat, and that precious potlikker. Set a bottle of hot sauce on the table for those who want heat. And serve warm cornbread alongside, preferably still hot from the oven. Dunk it in the broth. Soak up every drop. That's the bayou way, and it's the only proper Southern way too.
1 serving (about 450g)
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