(Vegetarian, gluten-free)

Please forgive my silence. Much that is not blog-appropriate has been afoot in my world, but it has not been my intent to neglect the bean project. Nor have I – I just haven’t written about it.

So here I am catching up, with a pithy post that is almost all recipe, plus a promise to bring you a book review later in the week, one that the new gardeners out there will want to watch for.

You’re also getting a bit of a photographic expedition. But I should put that in quotes – “photographic” . Though surely you’ve noticed, I’ll say it on record that I’ve been taking my own shots lately instead of forcing my photographer brother (and that should go all in caps, and maybe italics too: PHOTOGRAPHER) to set up props and shoot broccoli and beans saying cheese every other week. Yes, this is the totality of what two multi-session photography classes have granted me. We all have different gifts…

This week’s recipe is for Minted Pea Soup. I served it at a dinner party last weekend. When it came out of the kitchen, my guests were blunt. Half admitted they didn’t like peas, the other part of the room declared that mint belongs in chewing gum. Save for one, who took issue with leeks.

And then they all went back for seconds.

Apparently you can dislike the parts, but sum them and stir in a bit of cream and you’ve got a wholly embraceable beast in the bowl.

Early in the winter, I provided a colleague with the seeds for the peas that were used in this recipe (a remake, not the dinner party version). My colleague is known for adventurous endeavors and not for adventurous eating, but she’d wanted to try growing a cool-season crop in a cold frame. I volunteered Sutton’s Harbinger Pea, a sugar snap from the stash of seeds that I’d ordered from Seed Saver’s Exchange. When, last week, she gleefully brought me some of the harvest, I snapped, er, happily accepted them.

Sutton’s Harbinger Pea is one of the earliest varieties, producing peas in as little as 52 days (though they took 58 days here in St. Louis). Those of you who didn’t get around to it yet can still plant peas in the fall for a winter harvest.

SSE hails this as a heavy producer with relatively short vines – these grew to 2 feet, and they’re still producing nicely, though the cold frame has since been removed. This pea has British origins. Introduced in England in 1898, in 1901 it earned the Royal Horticultural Society’s Award of Merit. It made it to the States in 1903.

The Recipe

The fresh pea is very sweet and the pods are crisp and firm. I’ll be honest here — next time I’ll eat them un-pureed so that I can absorb their full personality. I’ll also probably never make soup with fresh, unshelled peas again, because it’s quite tedious removing all those pods. But once you’ve got your peas ready to go, this is one of the simplest soups ever. And it was superb — serving it cold allowed the full green flavor to shine through.

The mint came from our garden. Really the mint bed is more Simon’s than mine – he just finished putting out six or seven varieties, including several citrus mints, a chocolate mint, candy mint, ginger mint, and who-knows-what-else-mint.

In the recipe I went with common spearmint (Mentha spicata), which is the bane of Simon’s existence at the moment since it’s an enthusiastic and rapacious spreader. Tune in later in the summer – surely I’ll be finding complimentary beans for some of the more quixotic members of the Mentha genus.

Minted Pea Soup
1 small leek
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 pounds peas (yes, frozen is fine)
8 cups vegetable stock
2 cups packed fresh mint leaves
1/2 cup heavy cream
½ cup plain yogurt
¼ cup whole milk

Using just the tender white-green part of the leek, peel away the outer layer and thoroughly clean the remaining core. Finely chop it.

In a 6-quart heavy saucepan cook the leek in the butter, adding a dash of salt to taste. When leek is softened, add peas and 4 cups of the stock. Simmer until peas are tender, about 6 minutes. Stir in mint leaves (no need to chop it) and remaining 2 cups stock. When warmed, in about 1-2 minutes remove pan from heat.

In a blender, purée soup in batches until very smooth. If you prefer a thin, smooth soup, force each batch through a sieve into a large bowl. I didn’t mind having a creamier texture with occasional pea pieces, so I didn’t do this. Whisk in cream, yogurt and milk and then add salt and pepper to taste. If you serve it hot, don’t let it boil once the cream is added. You may also serve it cold. Either way, garnish with fresh mint sprigs.

And, here are a few more photos. A shot of my fledgling peas at their current size in my own garden. And also, one of my favorite flowers. An onion really, but inedible, its botanical name is Allium christophii (pronounced kris-to-fee-i). I fell in love with the name long before I ever saw the flower, and bought some bulbs. I fell in love all over again when the bulb burst into bloom in early summer. Now it comes up and blooms in spring in my yard.

 

Tags: allium christophii, heirloom peas, minted pea soup, sutton's harbinger peas

This entry was posted on Tuesday, May 6th, 2008 at 4:03 pm and is filed under Recipes. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.