Pea Heaven

I woke up early this morning and turned on the radio. On Being's Krista Tippett was interviewing spoken poetry poet Sarah Kay, who was talking about why she loves the word "flux". It was "fluffy and sharp", she said. Maybe it was the "x" sound, but the word "elixir" popped into my head. Right now, that's the word I'm in love with. See, I'd made Deborah Madison's recipe for pea soup the previous afternoon, as part of my brother-in-law Dave's birthday dinner. Madison calls the recipe "elixir of fresh peas" and trust me, it is the essence of peas--the holy grail for someone like me who's been carrying this idea around in my head for a long time of what pea soup perfection should taste like.  
I'm not exaggerating. 

Of course, this soup has to be made now, while fresh shell peas are in season. (I got mine at the farmers' market in Boston, but they can be found at the Portsmouth market, too.) This is not a recipe that tells you to substitute frozen peas. No. That's because the stock is made with the pea shells! Just that, some scallions or leeks, and parsley stems.  It's not time intensive either. It takes about 20 minutes to simmer the stock and then just another 4 or 5 minutes to make the soup itself. It practically takes longer to shell the peas. 


I followed the recipe pretty closely, though I first sweated the scallions for a couple of minutes before adding water for the stock. I also added some chopped chervil and chives to the finished soup.  Madison suggests adding a few drops of truffle oil to each bowl before serving, but I didn't want anything interfering with the heavenly taste of those peas.

Though of course, the soup can be served hot, I recommend serving it chilled. It stays that beautiful frothy, pale spring green color, even after a couple of hours in the fridge. (If you want it warm, it's best to make it just before serving.) Unlike some soups that lose a little something when served chilled, this one was still full of flavor. One warning: Madison is not kidding when she tells you to be careful when pureeing. Even though I used the towel, as suggested, soup just exploded out of the blender. (Luckily our kitchen walls are green!) I suggest doing it in small batches.  

Elixir of Fresh Peas (adapted from Local Flavors by Deborah Madison)

1 bunch scallions or 2 small leeks, thinly sliced

5 large parsley stems with leaves

sea salt and freshly ground pepper

1 1/2 pounds english peas

1 teaspoon unsalted butter

1/2 cup thinly sliced spring onion or young leek

1/2 teaspoon sugar

Truffle oil, optional

To make the stock, bring 1 quart water to a boil. As it's heating, add the scallions, parsley, and 1/2 teaspoon salt. Add about 3 cups of pea pods as you shell them. Once the water comes to a boil, lower the heat. Simmer for 20 minutes, then strain.

Melt the butter in a soup pot and add the sliced onion. Cook over medium heat for about a minute, then add 1/2 cup of the stock so that the onion stews without browning. After 4-5 minutes, add the peas, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and the sugar. Pour in 2 1/2 cups of the stock, bring to a boil, and simmer for 3 minutes, or until the peas are soft and cooked through, larger peas may take a bit longer.

Transfer the soup to a blender. Drape a towel over the lid and give a few short pulses to make sure it won't splatter. Then puree at high speed for 1 minute. Pour into soup bowls, adding a few drops of truffle oil to each, and serve immediately.

4-6 servings.

Ta-Ta: Tat Soi

It was the morning I'd been waiting for since October: the opening of the Seacoast Growers' Market in Portsmouth. Of course, we've been lucky enough to have fresh local root vegetables and greens throughout the off-season, what with our CSA and the monthly winter markets. But I just love being outside at this hilltop market, with its views of the Mill Ponds and the city--even in the rain.

This far north, the May markets are more about seedlings, than actual produce, but I look at it as a preview of the season to come. It's fun to see all the different varieties of heirloom tomatoes and peppers that will be coming my way in July. I was also hoping to find something that would make a tasty lunch on a cool, drizzly day

Amongst the rhubarb and salad greens, I noticed that Wake Robin Farm had some fresh tat soi. I remembered that there was a container of homemade Asian pork stock in our freezer, along with couple of containers of chicken stock. And I also knew we had a stash of Trader Joe's frozen Chinese dumplings. Sounded like all the fixings for a soup of Asian greens. 

Tat soi is a leafy green with a taste that's spicier than bok choy, but not as sharp as mustard greens. Like broccoli, Brussels sprouts, and kale, it's a member of the brassica family. And like its cousins, tat soi is high in minerals, vitamins, and antioxidants. It tastes great raw in salads or lightly sauteed in stir fries, but it also has the right texture and  flavor to be the star of a soup.

As the stock was defrosting, I put some minced ginger and garlic and a couple of Thai bird's-eye chilis and lime leaves in an oversized tea ball and put it in the soup to add some Asian spice. (I like to keep a selection of lime leaves and chilis in the freezer in both Portsmouth and Boston so I can add a quick Asian flavor to sauces, soups, and stir fries.) I washed and chopped the tat soi and sliced some carrots and scallions.

When the stock came to a boil, I added the carrots and scallions and simmered slowly until they were tender. I first added the tat soi stems, and when those had softened slightly, I swirled the leaves into the steaming broth along with a package of dumplings. When the soup was ready, I ladled it into some bowls -- making sure everyone got a nice helping of dumplings, and sprinkled some chopped cilantro on top.

You could make this soup with canned or boxed chicken stock -- preferably organic and low salt. You could also add some shittake mushrooms or leftover roast pork or chicken. But on this grey, mid-spring day, the fresh, spicy green flavor of the tat soi itself was just perfect.