Habitant Pea Soup

I grew up eating my mother's split pea soup, so thick your spoon really could stand up in the pot, and filled with chunks of carrots. Because we were a kosher home, my mother used a turkey carcass to flavor the soup, instead of a ham bone. Sometimes she also added flanken and beef bones.  I loved that soup. In fact, that was usually what I requested for my first meal home during college vacations.

After making many different pea soups and making my mother's recipe from time to time, I realized that the turkey flavor could be overwhelming, and not quite smokey enough. Paul finally revealed that despite my love for my mother's soup, he just didn't like split pea soup at all. Eventually, I just stopped making it.

For the last few years, though, this kosher bred girl has purchased a local Virginia country ham for an extended family buffet the day after Thanksgiving. Paul really likes ham about once a year.  I freeze the leftovers in separate containers to be used later for another dinner or for a breakfast of ham and eggs. In one big bag, I save the hambone along with the smallest of the scraps to use in a soup on a cold winter day.  This year, I didn't host the buffet, but tried one of Trader Joe's little half uncured hams one day in December once the other meat eater arrived home.  The bone wasn't large, but it was enough to save for soup later on in the winter.

That bone didn't have long to wait.  This week's arctic vortex cold was the perfect impetus for pea soup. Plus, veggie girl is off gallivanting about in Israel right now, so I didn't have to come up with a side by side vegetarian version.  I made a riff on Quebec style Habitant Pea Soup which calls for yellow split peas and is a little thinner in consistency than the one I grew up with. Who knows if it's the ham over the turkey or the change in peas, but if Paul likes it too, it's all good.

On another subject entirely, after a wait of an extra couple of weeks due to a technical glitch over the holidays, I finally found out last week that my trout pate won the contest at food52!  Many thanks to all who voted!  I have to admit that although this is relatively small potatoes, I was pretty thrilled and tickled to finally win one of the contests!


Habitant Style Pea Soup

(adapted from Cooking Light magazine)

serves 8

2 tablespoons olive oil
1 large onion, diced
2 stalks celery, diced
3 medium sized carrots, diced
2 cups yellow split peas
4 cups homemade or no or low sodium added stock, can be beef or vegetable
4 cups water
1 large bay leaf
1 tablespoon chopped fresh thyme
1 leftover ham bone
4 -  6 ounces leftover ham, diced

salt and pepper to taste
creme fraiche for garnish

1.  Heat a Dutch oven or soup pot over medium heat and then add olive oil.  Add the onion, celery and carrot.  Add a pinch or two of salt and a few grinds of pepper and cook the vegetables until the onion begins to get translucent, about 5 - 10 minutes.

2.  Add the split peas, stock, water, bay leaf, thyme and ham bone to the pot.  Bring to a boil and then lower to a simmer.  If there's a lot of foam on top skim a little off from time to time.

3.  Let the soup cook for about 1.5 to 2 hours, until the peas soften.  Turn off the heat and use an immersion blender to puree about 1/3 of the soup.  Stir well.

4.  Add in the diced ham and return soup to a simmer.  After about 10 minutes, taste for salt and, if needed add more and add some pepper.

5.  Add a small dollop of creme fraiche in the middle of each bowl as you serve.

Gardening and Squash Blossoms

With gardening, as with many things, my reach often exceeds my grasp. I envision a lush, loosely landscaped edible garden just outside my back door, yet the measly effort I end up expending generally leaves me with a half-assed, scraggly imposter. I don't have a brown thumb, exactly, more a lazy thumb with high hopes. I start out with the best of intentions, and I'm great at the obsessive reading and purchasing part of the garden. But once the miasma of humidity and mosquitoes descends on DC like a dust storm in Phoenix it's all I can do to provide a little water first thing in the morning.

I should mention that I do very well with hardy herbs that require little or no human intervention to thrive. I love a plant that demands little of me yet yields great rewards. I've found that sage, thyme, parsley, mint, oregano, marjoram, tarragon and parsley fit the bill in my garden boxes and pots. Most of them survive the winter here quite nicely, sprouting forth again in spring. I added a few new herbs this year, lemon verbena and sorrel, as well as cilantro, epazote and shiso which I'm growing from seed. I'll see if these are as easy to grow as the rest.

This year, my desire for vegetables that I can't easily acquire in a local store or farm stand led me to go beyond the herbs. I bought organic seeds from Baker Creek Heirloom and Johnny's and started them on my kitchen window seat in cow pots. I then bought Smart Pots and a raised bed planter to keep the plants up off the ground.


And so I find myself the caregiver of a tomatillo plant as well as four varieties of tomato. Only time will tell whether these plants are hardy enough to withstand the DC heat and my erratic attention. I suspect I will do a much better job with the fall plants that I've not yet had a chance to traumatize, such as Chinese broccoli, kale and lettuce.

My father-in-law's garden in Western Massachusetts, on the other hand, benefits from the heroic efforts he and his friend, Susan, have been lavishing on the terraced, hillside beds running up to the woods behind the house. When we visited last weekend, we dined on squash, zucchini and lettuce from the garden thanks to their efforts. They also gave us some lettuce and squash and squash blossoms to take home with us.

Squash blossoms are just the sort of thing that brought me to gardening. If you try to buy them in a farm market the price is ridiculous. Yet, if you have just a few backyard plants, or your father-in-law does, you have more than you know what to do with. They are irresistible with their saffron hued, trumpet like flare and subtle, yet delicious flavor.

Yesterday, I spent a chunk of the afternoon thinking about what I'd make with the squash blossoms, never considering that I could have spent some of that time taking care of my lagging San Marzano tomatoes. One of the most popular preparations is to stuff them with a mixture of ricotta cheese and herbs, then bread and deep fry the blossoms. While I love them this way, I don't deep fry. Sara Jenkins has a recipe in her Olives and Oranges in which the stuffed blossoms are simmered in tomato sauce, and though this sounds delicious, it just didn't speak to me yesterday. Plus, I had no ricotta cheese. And, as we'd had eggs a couple of nights earlier, I also crossed a frittata off my mental list.

Finally, I decided on risotto to accompany the rockfish I'd bought earlier in the day, but rather than use rice, I thought farro would make a hearty complement to the squash and fish. As I had a load of blossoms and only a few little sprouts of baby squash, I added some shelled peas to the mix. I used a basic risotto style to cook the dish, though I have found with farro that it is better to add most of the stock at once rather than in the cupfuls as you would with a regular risotto.



Farro and Squash Blossom Risotto (or Farrotto)

(serves 3 - 4 as a side dish)

1 - 2 Tablespoons olive oil
1 fat shallot or 2 smaller ones, minced
1 nice sized clove of garlic, minced (I had some green garlic so used that this time)
1 small zucchini or yellow summer squash, diced small (or two if you'd rather omit the peas)
1 cup semi-pearled, or perlato, farro
1/3 cup dry white wine
3 cups homemade or no or low sodium chicken stock or broth
1/2 cup shelled peas, from about a quarter of a pound fresh peas in the shell
1 Tablespoon unsalted butter
about 2 ounces of squash blossoms, cut in a chiffonade, reserve a pinch or two for garnish
1/4 cup basil cut in a chiffonade, reserve a pinch or two for garnish
1/2 cup shredded or shaved Parmigiano Reggiano cheese, reserve a pinch or two for garnish
salt and pepper to taste

1. In a sauce pan, bring stock to a simmer.

2. Heat a small Dutch oven or high sided skillet (not non-stick!) over medium heat and add the oil.

3. Cook the shallot for a couple of minutes over medium heat until it starts to soften and become translucent. Add a pinch of salt and a grind or two of black pepper and mix. Add the garlic and zucchini or squash and cook another minute or two, stirring often.

4. Add the farro and stir to let all the farro get a little coated with the oil.

5. Add the wine and raise heat so that the wine simmers in the pan. Mix.

6. When the wine has cooked off, add 1 cup of the stock to the farro pan. Add another pinch of salt and grind of pepper. Make sure the stock comes to a high simmer - not quite a boil, but a good bit of bubbling. Stir often until the stock cooks down and the pan is almost dry. Then add the rest of the stock and let it bubble, stirring often, until about two thirds of the liquid cooks down. At this point, add the peas and stir again. This step should take about 20 minutes.

7. When the liquid is just a think coating on the pan, lower the heat to low, and swirl in the butter.

8. When the butter is fully incorporated, add the squash blossoms and basil and mix gently.

9. Add the cheese and continue to mix gently. Taste and add more salt and pepper to taste, if you like.

10. Arrange in serving bowl with the remainder of the squash blossoms, basil and cheese on top.

Pea Soup for Spring and Summer

Ina Garten's pea soup tastes like spring. It's not a heavy, winter-time split pea soup that cooks for hours and warms the house. There's a time for that soup and June in DC is not it. This soup is a puree of fresh peas and mint, which can be served hot, warm or cold with equally good results. Ms. Garten even invites you to substitute frozen peas and as peas have not yet come into the local farm markets, that is how I've made it. I don't think I would even bother to use fresh peas even when they are available, as this soup can be made pretty quickly unless one had to first shell peas. Save those peas for popping in your mouth raw and use the petite, sweet frozen ones here.

I was so excited about this recipe when I first made it as it hit all my benchmarks - it's delicious, relatively healthy and easy to make. Paul and both kids, even my teenaged son who doesn't like peas, enjoyed the soup. I tried to share my excitement with a couple of friends and both told me unequivocally that they hate pea soup. Please don't be judgmental about this soup! Try it - even Teddy liked it!

I've made the recipe, as written (with just one little change - I replaced the butter with olive oil), several times with great success. It's filling enough to serve with some bread and cheese for a light dinner or could also serve as a first course to a full dinner. you could easily sub in garlic rubbed bruschetta for croutons as I've done in this photo or even (gasp!) use packaged ones in a pinch.

Last time I made this soup I divided the soup into three before adding the creme fraiche. In one portion I added creme fraiche and in the other two, lower fat options of fat free Greek yogurt and virtually fat free Israeli quark. In this soup, I much preferred the fullness and mouth feel that the creme fraiche affords. I was hoping to like one of the other options, but they both had too much bite without being rounded out by the cream. I think this recipe needs a little fat to balance the peas. However, I did exchange the butter for olive oil, so I felt virtuous enough to enjoy the creme fraiche laced version.