The season for peas is right this minute. Whistling Train Farm had piles at the market last weekend and I’ve been daydreaming about possibilities ever since.
I’ll blanch the first batch for a minute or less, drain and dress with butter, salt and pepper, maybe a smidge of mint. Featuring the pea, that’s it. Next, I’ll make new potatoes and peas with cream like my mom makes; and a pasta with peas, chives and a little bacon. There’s a pesto made with peas that’s supposed to be wonderful. I’ll muck around in the kitchen with some of this and report back.
Plucking the peas from the pod is a meditation that might be as nutritious in its own way as the pea itself.
A mystery how satisfying it can be to pop the bubbles in bubble wrap. Well, shelling peas is kind of like that except that it’s productive and you have something to eat in the end. And there’s nostalgia to consider. Like the scene in the old movies where the entire family – usually it’s mom, grandma and the kids, sometimes the aunties – sits around shelling peas for that night’s supper. Popped straight out of its shell and onto the dinner table, the peas taste better when you’ve had a hand in their preparation.. The perfect many hands group endeavor, you can thank the pea for its community building potential.
Save the shells and toss them into a salad.