Garden Green Peas

I discovered this when the Steward and I started courting, as he introduced me to his family and their way of cooking: garden peas are good. Not just any sort of good, but the sort of good that the pitiful English word sums up with gross inadequacy: wholesome, tender, rich, flavorful, and healthy. There are more words, I'm sure, but that ought to at least give you the general idea of how much I love home-grown peas.

Now, I grew up eating well-balanced meals that almost always included a vegetable side dish, usually a green, and peas especially (if memory serves) were always from a can or frozen. We did have fresh string beans and corn if they could be got or grown - but peas never seemed to come fresh. I even looked upon fresh peas as a sort of alien food - how would you even cook such terrifyingly fresh little greens? But it is a normal part of the Taylor's life: the peas are an integral part of the garden plan and they are planted, watered, tended; the pods picked when fat and ready. They are then shelled, blanched, and put away for the seasons when there are no fresh peas. (But even frozen home-grown garden peas are completely different from their store-bought cousins.) Or, if someone feels like having peas with dinner, they cook 'em fresh out of their pods! And in my estimation that is the very bestest and goodest way to eat green peas.

So, the point of this rambly story: I cooked my very own green peas fresh from my very own garden last night. Less than two hours from when they were happily fattening on the bushes, they were hot and green and tantalizingly edible. Were they good? Oh, my...

I should have taken a picture of them cooked, but I sent them with Husband today as his lunch. (That's another story: we didn't actually eat dinner last night, unless you count Ms. Jean's pound cake and fresh strawberries up at the Big House. I faithfully cooked dinner, heating up the beef barbecue I had made earlier - but not yet put together - and cooking my wonderful little peas.... but then discovered come dark that I wasn't really hungry and neither was Husband. I had been snacking/grazing all afternoon, and he had eaten lunch late (and also "snuck" a slice of pizza from the Big House - Mary, when did this start, that y'all order pizza and not call me???) So, I put up dinner and then packed it for his lunch today. However - I wasn't so full that I couldn't try my peas whilst they were still piping hot, and so I did. Whoa. I made sure that Husband tried them, too. I don't think he was quite as overwhelmed by them as I - but hey! I didn't grow up on such peas... now I know why they write country songs about them.

She was raised on cornbread, purple hull peas
She turns 'em heads at the feed 'n seed

For the purpose of this story, pretend that reads "green peas." Or just pay attention to the fact that there are peas mentioned. Or wait until my pink eye purple hull installment. Or not.

In short, I am very grateful for the blessing of good things to eat, particularly those which are growing in my garden. I am in awe of how He created these plants that we can tend and harvest and eat, to the health of our bodies and the delight of our mouths. Thank you, Lord, for such wonderful gifts!

Cooked Grean Peas

peas

water

butter

maple syrup

salt

Put peas (any amount, the above pictured was about 1 1/2 cup) in a small saucepan and put in enough water to cover them. Add a bit of butter (about 2 tsp), a splash of maple syrup (1-2 Tbls), and salt them to taste (less than 1/4 tsp). Heat to boiling and then lower to a high simmer until green and tender (perhaps 3-5 minutes). Yummy!