While Buddhists aren’t necessarily vegetarians, we do not eat meat at Pelden Farm. But it hasn’t always been this way. The Mr. and I grew up during the Great Depression, when we felt lucky to be able to eat meat once a week even if it meant—so sad but so true–we had to wring the chicken’s neck ourselves. (And before you ask, the depression we’re in now is at best a not-so-great depression which, as best as I can tell, just means that people eat at MacDonald’s more often and cook even less.) But if Russell were still here, he’d tell you that ultimately, our decision to abstain from eating meat was based less on moral grounds than on sheer laziness. We were farm folks, which meant we’d have to raise the animals ourselves. Yet we were already indentured to five children: Why in the world would we want to tie ourselves down to a barnyard full of cows, pigs, and chickens who would also expect to be tended to several times a day!? A beefsteak tomato, on the other hand, didn’t care whether you picked off the hornworms at dawn or dusk as long as you got around to it eventually. And once this tomato was chilled, sliced thickly, sprinkled with a little salt and a little balsamic vinegar, and sandwiched between slices of mozzarella on thick homemade bread, no one gave meat a second thought.
This is a long preamble to the main point, which is, creamed peas and new potatoes. It seems that the two people who read this blog are more interested in my food than my philosophy. . . which should tell me something! So here’s the recipe.
The base for creamed peas and new potatoes is a “roux,” a fancy name for a simple white sauce I’m sure everybody knows how to make with melted butter, flour, and milk. For a lighter version of this sauce, you can use half as much butter and some olive oil, and/or substitute fat-free milk for regular. I never bother to measure when I cook, but I estimate that to feed two (I always cook for company, just in case), I use a quarter cup of butter and two tablespoons of olive oil. You also will need a dozen new potatoes (golf-ball size or smaller) and two cups of uncooked peas. (Yes, you likely will have to shell them yourself. Break off one end of the pod and “unzip” the side so that you can rake the peas out with your finger.)
Prick each of the potatoes several times with a fork and set them in a microwave safe bowl in an inch of water. Microwave them for four minutes or until they are tender to the touch but not wrinkly. Yes, Auntie Seldoen uses a microwave. However, on the advice of her nephew Butch, who is a physics engineer, SHE NEVER PUTS PLASTIC IN THE MICROWAVE. She does not understand the danger it poses to your molecular structure exactly, but she takes Butch’s word for it and sticks to using glass dishes and paper towels. Add water to the peas and microwave them for three minutes.
Now melt the butter or the butter/oil. Stir in two tablespoons of flour and then (slowly, allowing it to thicken) a cup of milk. Stir the sauce frequently to keep it from burning. Add salt and pepper to taste as well as a smidge of either tarragon or mint, depending on your preference. Once the roux is as thick as you like it—and if it gets too thick, you can add more milk or some water—turn off the heat and stir in the potatoes and peas.
That’s it—creamed peas and potatoes, just like your grandmother made on the days she didn’t have a chicken to kill.
Tashi delek!
