I hated peas for a long time. My mom and grandma love telling this story: When I was a baby, they’d feed me one of those Gerber baby food jars every night. Every jar—regardless of the main food component—always had peas in it. Every night, a spoonful of baby food went in my mouth, and every night, a single pea would come back out with the spoon.
In case you’re wondering, there are seven peas in a jar of Gerber baby food.
But this is not a recipe for baby food. This is a recipe for anyone trying to give peas a chance. (#sorryimnotsorry) I hope you’ve had a chance in life to sit at your kitchen table with an empty bowl on your left side and a paper bag full of springtime peas in their pods on your right. I hope you’ve had a chance to twist off one of the pod’s ends, unzip it, and unleash a riot of peas into your bowl. And I hope you’ve learned how crunchy real peas are. If not, work on it. Immediately. They’ll be gone before you know it.
Peas and Shells
From The Smitten Kitchen Cookbook by Deb Perelman
This recipe would only be augmented if you decided to substitute mint in for the parsley as a garnish at the end. In fact, the next time I make this, I’ll do that very thing. Cook this on a glorious spring day that tricks you into thinking it’s already summer. Then take advantage of the sweet green peas that we still have to remind yourself that the season is still as fresh as they are.
Ingredients:
1/2 lb. dried medium-sized shells (I used a mix of whole wheat and regular shells)
1 c. shelled peas (or the yield of 1 lb. peas in their shells)
1 c. heavy cream
3 T. salted butter
salt and pepper to taste
1 T. lemon zest
1 c. finely grated Parmesan cheese
2 T. parsley
Lemon olive oil, for garnish (optional)
Procedure:
1. Bring a large pot of salted water to boil. While you’re waiting on the water, start shelling your peas. Cook the pasta according to the directions on the package. Add peas to the pot during the last 60 seconds of the pasta’s cooking time. Reserve 1/2 c. of the cooking water, and set it aside for the time being. Drain the pasta and the peas together.
2. Pour the cream into the same pot that you cooked the pasta in. Bring it to a simmer and cook until slightly reduced, about 4 minutes, stirring frequently. (Remember that trick I taught you for knowing how thick is just thick enough? If you can swipe your finger along the back of a cream-coated spoon and the line holds for a second or two, you’re good.)
3. Add the butter, and stir it until it has melted. Generously season the sauce with freshly ground black pepper, a three-fingered pinch of salt, and the lemon zest.
4. Add 3/4 cup Parmesan and stir it until the sauce is smooth; then toss in the drained pasta & peas. Cook the pasta in the sauce for 2 minutes, until the sauce has slightly thickened.
5. Add the reserved pasta water by the spoonful if needed to loosen up the sauce. Add salt to taste.
6. Divide the pasta among bowls. Garnish with remaining Parmesan, chopped parsley, and lemon olive-oil.