As soon as noon the next day, I remembered the greens—treasure!—and immediately thought of wheatberries. I have become, over the years, especially endeared to grain salads, for the easy work they make of cooking, particularly if the beginnings of something are already in the fridge. Whole grains are eminently versatile, partnering whatever ingredients you toss their way without much fuss, but they never lose their sense of self. They’re more of a partner than a canvas in that sense, which I’m glad for because it would be a shame to lose sense of their earthy flavors and chewy textures.

I simmered the wheatberries for 45 minutes or so, then gathered the leftover braised greens, warmed them in some olive oil with chopped scallions and garlic. I could’ve eaten them just like that, with some bread, but I’d be eating bread with braised greens every day if I gave into that impulse. So I folded in the cooked wheatberries, added cayenne and toasted pecans. It was humble and satisfying, and that was the idea.

I had used Brussels sprouts greens in this case (it was a liberal rendition of colcannon), but leftover braised collards, or kale, or kohlrabi greens could have easily stood in their place; barley or rye berries would have been equally nice as the wheat. Chickpeas would have made everything a bit sturdier, if that’s what you’re after. You never make these things the same way twice; at least, that’s the luxury grain salads afford that I most appreciate. Grains are generally accommodating in that way. Or maybe they just court indecision. As long as they help turn out something nourishing and delicious, I’m not sure it really matters.