Easy Peas-y

Frozen peas seem a bit boring to me. True, they are one of the few frozen vegetables I keep around (though admittedly, they are more often used as ice packs than cooked with), but I haven’t unleashed much culinary creativity on them. Thus, boring.

Things have changed since yesterday, however. I was inspired by an off-handed comment from my hubby’s stepmother who told me she’d been reading about eating more parts of the fava plant than the bean. “Eat the leaves, and the flowers. Have them fresh in a salad,” she said as she pointed to the cover of a glossy magazine. Unfortunately I couldn’t give her any fava seeds since I had planted all of mine already, and they were now nearing two-feet tall in a plot edging the scented geraniums. They were barely flowering, so I was glad to dive in early and start the fava-flavored season. At least I could share a recipe with her.

I’ve been trying to save money on groceries lately, especially due to my right wrist still being torn up, ligament-wise. It’s been hard to work and write, and for that matter, cook, but I’ve done my best and also had a lot of help. I was picking through the freezer, hoping to avoid a shopping trip, and I found those peas, willing themselves into my pan and onto my plate. I pulled them out, and a bag of oversize turkey meatballs I had frozen a few weeks earlier, and got my brain to work. How could I de-boringize them?

flowing fava shoots

I cooked down about 2/3 of the bag in a cast iron skillet on medium-low flame, just covering them with water. I added a pinch of salt. When they got their brightest shade of happy green I strained them, and put them back into the pan with a generous pat of butter. Then I got smart and added about 8 short leafy branches from the fava beans – not the stalks, but just the leaf segments that were shooting off from them. I sauteed the two green friends with a pinch of salt, and couple turns of the pepper grinder, and a touch of nutmeg for good measure. I added about 1/3 cup of milk, or enough to make the mixture saucy. I added 2 sprigs of peppermint leaves, roughly chopped, and got out my emersion blender.

I blended down the mixture right in the pan, heat off, and balanced the milk a tad and the seasonings. I ran some well aged pecorino over a microplane a few times for good measure. Stirred. Wow – it was a taste of spring. The peas were still glowing, but there were streaks of darker fava leaf and a distinct flavor akin to a potent pea shoot. The mint elevated both flavors and the stuff was creamy, totally unlike the boring frozen peas I started with. Simple and cheap too, amen. I imagine this verdant side dish would go well with almost anything, not just my turkey meatballs. I topped my peas with more mint, chiffonade-d, that is, and some edible flowers from my garden.

Easy Peas-y with edible flowers: fava, garlic grass, violets

Any leftovers of the peas could be reheated, or better yet, watered down with veggie broth (or water), simmered, butter added, and made as a sauce for some roast chicken or fried lamb chops or something…