Summer

Peas with mint bring back so many fond memories of my travels in England. No matter where I went I always found peas with mint or mushy peas on every menu. A side of peas was always an accompaniment to fish and chips or roast beef. My love for peas as well as English food grew infinitely during my time there. It's funny, because as a kid I despised peas. Luckily as I grew older my tastes matured and now peas are one of my favorites.

Once again I'm growing peas this summer. Peas are so easy to grow. You just start from seed and watch them climb up a fence. There's really no maintenance involved. I have two varieties: shelling peas and sugar snap peas, which can be eaten whole—pod and all. After picking six quarts of peas, I know I've got a lot of cooking to do to use up my haul. Some of my favorite recipes for peas include this creamy soup and this sugar snap pea stir-fry.

I love to serve a vegetable sauté with dinner, because it's quick and easy to prepare. With only five ingredients, this side dish of peas is perfect. Mint is a traditional herb with peas because it adds a fresh flavor. Don't be afraid to use it—a little goes a long way.

Just on the edge of the vegetable garden my Hungarian grandparents had on their Indiana farm was a cherry tree. The sprawling branches thick with leaves provided a welcome canopy on hot, sunny days — and a perfect climbing structure for fun-loving children.

I do remember climbing very carefully into the tree, not too high, but just far enough off the ground to be able to reach for ripe cherries that I would pop into my mouth, spitting the hard-as-stone pits onto the earth below. And, thus began my insatiable desire for sweet, rosy cherries.

Several years ago, I brought a handful of Rainier cherries home from the grocery store. I couldn’t resist their characteristic rosy blush with a warm, sunny undertone. I ate one. I was hooked. It was the sweetest, most delicious cherry I had ever eaten. The creamy colored flesh was juicy and much more flavorful than the traditional bing cherries I was used to eating. The Washington Rainier was cherry perfection.

I wait all year for watermelon and then eat it with reckless abandon every chance I get.  I love buying the small, seedless varieties, they are so easy to cut up and enjoy.  I can't believe how sweet the ones I have already tasted are....so far a good crop!

Anyway, if you have never experienced watermelon with something a little salty and a little oniony, it's about time you do.  It's by far my favorite way to eat watermelon.  And it's totally addictive. You will enjoy it all summer and crave it all winter.  

You must experience this to understand what I am talking about.  You can thank me later!! Believe me when I tell you how surprising and wonderful the flavors are when they come together.

Peas, alas, are not a spring vegetable, despite what legions of food writers would have you believe. It is wonderful to think of things like spring pea risotto and minted pea soup in May, but unless you are lucky enough to live in a really temperate climate, you’ll be waiting for fresh peas until late June with the rest of us.

I feel bad being a Scrooge about this. Actually a super-Scrooge, as, these days, I can’t really even get behind those so-called fresh peas (usually already shelled) that arrive in the grocery stores before they do in my garden. I’d rather eat frozen peas. (And I do.)

The reason is that shell peas–or English peas–lose that just-picked sweetness rather quickly and wind up tasting bland and starchy when they travel many miles to get to you.

So right now I have to content myself with staring at the squat little pea seedlings in my garden, imagining what they’ll bring me. I’m very proud of them, actually. Yesterday I noticed that they’ve started unfurling their little tendrils and have obligingly begun to grab on to the curtain of strings I hung for them. Such good peas.