Could it be a haaaarte beast-- uh, soup?

(That's a variation on a Flanders and Swann line, was anyone wondering)

I've always been afraid of those bunches of green things in the produce department. Collards, rapini, dandelion greens, chard. No idea how to cook them short of indigestion-producing 'saute in oil with garlic.' There's a way of doing sorrel with lemon, but no one ever has sorrel. And meantime all the nutrition books tell you to eat leafy green veg, but there's only so many salads one can put up with.

Then I bethought me of the soup we had every evening in northern Spain and how yum the (unidentified) green things were in that. So I googled Caldo Gallego and found the following recipe, which I cooked with modifications (like a fraction of the meat and no tomatoes.) No it doesn't taste like the soups of Léon and Berceria. Still tastes good.
( The soup of Galicia )

There's an even simpler lentil and chard soup that I made, and added rice, and produced marvellous mush thereby.
( Especially if you use tinned beans, which I recommend )

'Velcome home, Mr Farrell, velcome home!'

Yesterday's prompt, yesterday's prompt. Heavily influenced by afrai's Yuletide take on the same subject.

(Ill-recalled story is that in the 18th century it was customary to insert an improvised violin solo in the middle of chamber pieces-- or was it symphonies? Anyway, one evening a Mr. Farrell was the violinist, playing with Haydn, and having modulated (if that's the term) out of the key of the work during his improvisation, couldn't get back in. And played and played and modulated and modulated and *finally* got back to the right key-- at which Haydn stopped conducting, came over, shook his hand and said 'Velcome home, Mr Farrell, velcome home!')
( and you return to us in this condition--! )