This morning, Norm realized with a start that Spring is here. Well, almost, considering that it was 20 degrees three days ago, and the Vernal Equinox is two weeks away.
But today it is going up into the sixties here in Pennsylvania, and Norm's immediate thoughts upon awaking were of the garden, at the east end of the house. "When is Saint Patrick's day?" he asked. I told him that it was in about a week, give or take, and he said, "That's when the peas should go in!"
There is a lot of work to do to prepare the garden. It is a raised bed, a twelve by twelve square, and the snow has finally melted on it. Currently, it is a lumpy tangle of dried, flattened tomato stalks, heaved earth, and blown leaves.
Peas, or pisum sativum, are a very old cultivar. They are an annual, cool-season plant, and are quite frost-hardy. Varieties include snap peas, sugar peas, shelling or garden (also known as English) peas, and snow peas.
When I was a child, during the Lincoln administration (well, maybe it just seems that way) you used to be able to buy garden peas in the pod from the market, and then shell them at home. It was enjoyable and very satisfying to open the pod and find the peas within, like little green pearls. You could slide them out into a bowl, pop pop pop off of their tiny stems.
Fresh garden or shelling peas are no longer sold in supermarkets, for some reason, although you can get snow peas or sugar snap peas. So, it seems that if you want fresh peas, and don't belong to a Community Supported Agriculture or CSA where you can go pick the peas yourself, you must grow them.
They need to be planted when the soil is at least 45° and is dry enough not to stick to gardening tools; tradition does say that Saint Patrick's Day, March 17, is a good guideline. They should be planted 1 - 1 ½ inches deep and one inch apart in single or double rows; rows should be 18 to 24 inches apart. Tall varieties need to be staked, but there are many dwarf varieties that do not require staking.
But today it is going up into the sixties here in Pennsylvania, and Norm's immediate thoughts upon awaking were of the garden, at the east end of the house. "When is Saint Patrick's day?" he asked. I told him that it was in about a week, give or take, and he said, "That's when the peas should go in!"
There is a lot of work to do to prepare the garden. It is a raised bed, a twelve by twelve square, and the snow has finally melted on it. Currently, it is a lumpy tangle of dried, flattened tomato stalks, heaved earth, and blown leaves.
Peas, or pisum sativum, are a very old cultivar. They are an annual, cool-season plant, and are quite frost-hardy. Varieties include snap peas, sugar peas, shelling or garden (also known as English) peas, and snow peas.
When I was a child, during the Lincoln administration (well, maybe it just seems that way) you used to be able to buy garden peas in the pod from the market, and then shell them at home. It was enjoyable and very satisfying to open the pod and find the peas within, like little green pearls. You could slide them out into a bowl, pop pop pop off of their tiny stems.
Fresh garden or shelling peas are no longer sold in supermarkets, for some reason, although you can get snow peas or sugar snap peas. So, it seems that if you want fresh peas, and don't belong to a Community Supported Agriculture or CSA where you can go pick the peas yourself, you must grow them.
They need to be planted when the soil is at least 45° and is dry enough not to stick to gardening tools; tradition does say that Saint Patrick's Day, March 17, is a good guideline. They should be planted 1 - 1 ½ inches deep and one inch apart in single or double rows; rows should be 18 to 24 inches apart. Tall varieties need to be staked, but there are many dwarf varieties that do not require staking.
Garden peas are an interesting vegetable to eat. For some reason, etiquette demands that they be eaten with a fork, even though a spoon would suit them much better. They roll around your plate, and playing the game "how do I get these darn peas onto a fork and into my mouth without dropping them all over the floor, where they will roll around and get squished" is a family favorite. If there are mashed potatoes, you can imbed the unruly peas in that vegetable, and contol them that way.
If you could get them onto your knife in a row, you could eat them the way the Three Stooges did, but then you would find yourself eating alone quite often.
Sometimes I try to line them up on the tines of my fork, although I have noticed that if I spend too much time doing this to my satisfaction, other diners at the table will be staring at me with gape-mouthed wonder. And stabbing peas with a fork is a risky exercise at best.
But I digress.
Garden peas contain iron, protein and vitamin C, so they are really good for you. They can be used in everything from soups to salads, but I like them best just steamed with a little butter. Homemade pea soup, made with dried peas and some ham, is a comfort on a cold day.
There is a product out there called Pea Butter, which is essentially smashed peas in a jar, but the idea strikes me as strangely unappetizing.
Nut butter, yes. Peas in a jar, no. That's just wrong.
So, it's off to the feed and farm store for some pea packets. Time's a wastin'.
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