rebellion

The yachtsman and I had the following conversation last week, as he watched TV and I looked at recipes online.

The yachtsman: What are you reading?
Me: A recipe for pea soup.
The yachtsman: [PAUSES TV] Why?
ME: Why not?
The yachtsman: Let me be clear about one thing: We do not enjoy pea soup in this family. [RESTARTS TV]
Me: [LAUGHS]
The yachtsman: [RE-PAUSES TV] It's not funny. We do not eat pea soup in this family. [RE-STARTS AND RE-PAUSES TV] Put that on your bl*g and post it.

I did not do anything this weekend except proofread, go to the farmers market, go out for a creemee, and disobey my husband, which in some countries would get me stoned (not high, killed -- biblical-style).

At the farmers market I bought 2.5 pounds of shelling peas, thinking that would yield the 1 pound of shelled peas I needed for the recipe. I thought wrong. I ended up with 12 ounces of peas, which meant I had to 3/4 the recipe, which meant I had to deal with fractions, which did not turn out well. (When I dropped out of high school after my sophomore year, I was fairly certain I was not missing anything, and I was mostly right, with one little exception: math.)

I did not make pea soup, I made pea dip. Delicious pea dip, but dip, nonetheless.

(The yachtsman: [LOOKING DOUBTFULLY INTO MY POT OF GRUEL] That looks awfully thick.)

I'll take photos when I thin it out and eat it at work tomorrow. In the meantime, a stay-in-school public service announcement brought to you by all of us high-school dropouts here at GFD:

Click to enlarge.

it's hammer time

Actually, it's pea time, but "Hammer Time" sounds much cooler. If you're stuck in 1990. Otherwise, it just sounds dated.

Anyway, it's pea time.

I have a new theory about peas, which is that they are so delicious fresh, a couple of wizards decided to freeze them and can them, thereby making them no longer delicious and giving them the bad rep they have today. Which is a shame, because fresh peas are like candy. Candy that's good for you! So let's not be stuck in 1952, when frozen peas were first marketed by nonwizard Clarence Birdseye. Or worse, when Donald Suckass invented canned peas, whenever that was.

I was so busy earlier today I didn't have time to both shell and cook them, so I snacked on them raw.


Tonight on the phone with Mojie I asked if she thought ever-so-slightly steamed fresh peas with a little butter sounded good. "Frankly, no," she said. But she was wrong. In the words of a great rapper/reverend/dancer/bankruptcy filer, "Can't touch this."