My back is sore and I did sleep restlessly last night, but I’m no princess. The only peas in my house rest peacefully in the kitchen. We keep the food in bed rule at zero tolerance around here, though sometimes the little guy traipses in at 5am covered in cream cheese after a pre-dawn breakfast foray. Or forage as the case may be. But I’m getting off-peaste (I know, I know), so on with the peas.
Living in Boulder, Colorado has some culinary advantages. While the climate is not the best for abundant fresh produce, support for small organic farms is prevalent. About five years ago, excited for the restart of the farmer’s market, I heard about "farm share." Farm share programs are an opportunity to take part in the bounty of a local farm while at the same time indemnifying the farmer from catastrophic crop issues. If the peas were plentiful, we would get a peck in our weekly share. If the lettuce was hailed upon, then our share would contain lettuce racked with holes. Or no lettuce at all.
Buying a share from the farm turned out to be a huge boon on many fronts. My family ate more vegetables every week in far greater variety than ever before. Some weeks I would be unable to carry our weekly share in a single trip, laden with melons, greens, and giant cones of Brussels sprouts still on the stalk. If you think you do not like Brussels sprouts, you must try them fresh off the stalk. The sweetness is incomparable and made only more satisfying when sautéed with a good deal of garlic so fresh that the stalk is still attached.
The benefit of eating fresh vegetables may seem obvious, but as that summer continued, I realized the farm share gave us more than just a bounty of local vegetables. The real epiphany was flavor. Eating something as simple as fresh Brussels sprouts changed me from the innocent house frau happily buying bruised and olden sprouts from the local Kroger to a more sophisticated produce connoisseur. But even more revelatory than the Brussels sprouts were the sugar snap peas.
I like sugar snap peas year round in just about any dish, but the fresh-picked sugar snap peas from that farm were so crisp, so melt-in-your mouth sweet, so perfect to behold that I would put them out in a candy dish. The family recognized they were a special occasion sweet treat and would gobble them up. Since sugar snap peas in a candy dish is not really a recipe that would appease the judges, below is my favorite way to cook sugar snap peas. While I agree with Francis Lam on spring peas, overcooked sugar snaps are a travesty. Cook them simply and barely; let the peas speak for themselves.
Sauteed Sugar Snap Peas
½ lb Sugar Snap Peas
Olive oil just to coat pan
Kosher Salt to taste
Red Pepper Flakes to taste
Heat olive oil on medium, add sugar snap seas. Toss with salt and pepper flakes and cook for a little over five minutes. If you have a fresh herb lying around, chop it up and toss it in as well. Mint and thyme are both very good for peas, but only choose one.
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