10 neat things about kale in winter gardens
Kale in winter gardens is a sight of quiet triumph. While most plants fade at the first frost, kale stands firm, its leaves turning sweeter as the cold deepens. Once grown for livestock and now beloved by chefs, it bridges the seasons with colour, nutrition, and grit. As nights grow longer, this steadfast green proves that a garden’s glory doesn’t end with summer. Here are 10 Neat Things about kale that show why it’s worth keeping in the ground until spring.
1. It gets sweeter in the cold
Kale thrives when the nights turn crisp. As temperatures dip toward freezing, it converts stored starches into sugars that act like natural antifreeze. That’s why late-season kale is milder and sweeter than the summer crop.
2. It can survive deep cold, if you help it a little
Kale laughs at frost and shrugs off temperatures as low as –10 °C, even –15 °C for the hardiest types. In much of Canada, it can overwinter under a blanket of snow or straw mulch and sprout fresh leaves when spring returns. The trick is access: if snow piles high, mark your plants so you can dig through to harvest those sweetened leaves all winter long
3. It went from cow food to café favourite
People have eaten kale for centuries, but by the 1800s it was mostly grown as fodder for livestock—a hardy green when little else survived the cold. It made its quiet return to the dinner table in the 20th century, gaining cult status in the 2010s when chefs and health enthusiasts rediscovered its resilience and nutrition. From barnyard to bistro, kale made quite the comeback.
4. Not everyone loves its flavour
Kale can be polarising. Its bitterness comes from natural compounds called glucosinolates, which turn into sharp-tasting isothiocyanates when you chew them. Some people are more sensitive to these compounds than others—it’s genetic. If kale tastes harsh or “too green,” try massaging it with a bit of oil and salt, or blanching it briefly. Those simple steps tame the bite and bring out its earthy sweetness.
5. The Scots built their winters around kale
In old Scotland, every cottage garden had a “kailyard,” a walled patch where kale stood as the family’s winter green. The plant was so central to the diet that “come to kale” became an invitation to dinner. For centuries, kale soup and boiled greens sustained people through the dark months, long before refrigeration or imported produce. Some heritage varieties, like ‘Scotch Curled’ and ‘Thousandhead,’ trace directly back to those hardy northern gardens.
6. The pretty ones are edible too
Those frilly rosettes glowing pink, purple, and cream in autumn planters are kales bred for looks, not lunch. Developed in Japan a century ago, ornamental kale takes on its brightest colours when nights turn cold, outlasting most flowers well into December. You can eat it—it may be a bit tough and bitter—but it shines where few plants do, adding rich colour to gardens when everything else has given up.
7. It’s rich in calcium your body can actually use
Kale is a strong plant-based source of calcium, and unlike spinach, it doesn’t contain high levels of oxalates—natural compounds that bind to minerals and make them harder to absorb. Because kale’s oxalate content is low, its calcium is more available to the body, making it a genuine help for bones and teeth rather than a theoretical one. It’s one of the few greens where what’s on the nutrition label truly translates to what your body gets.
8. Even its flower buds are gourmet fare
When kale bolts in spring, don’t rush to pull it out. The tender yellow flower buds—known as kale raab—are sweet and delicate, like a mix of broccoli and asparagus. Some Canadian chefs and market growers prize them as a fleeting spring delicacy, sautéed in olive oil or tossed warm into pasta. From leaf to bloom, kale gives back more than one season of good eating.
9. It helps the soil as well as the body
After harvest, the deep-rooted stems can be dug in as green manure. Kale adds organic matter and nutrients back into the soil for next year’s crops.
10. It’s a biennial with a mind of its own
Kale doesn’t die when the snow comes—it’s a true biennial, living two years if you let it. The first year gives lush, tender leaves; by the second, its energy turns to flowering and seed. You’ll still get a short flush of smaller, stronger-flavoured leaves in spring, best cooked rather than raw, before it sends up yellow blooms. In Zones 3 ands up, or with a bit of protection, that second season brings beauty, seed, and a few unexpected meals from a plant that just won’t quit.
