The Pleasures of Vegetables

On a menu in Port of Spain, Trinidad recently, we saw an entrée called The Pleasures of Vegetables. I didn’t order it, but probably should have. It’s always hard to leave home in spring and summer, but it’s especially hard when the sugar snap peas and green beans and tomatoes are in. Mid June is murder. We’re always on the plane to North Dakota then, and usually with a few quart Ziplocs of our own snap peas to pass around between rows. I have to say they beat dry-roasted pilot pellets or those darn pretzel things as an airline snack.

It was the best sugar snap pea year I can ever remember. The vines grew well above my head for the first time ever. We gorged. I almost got to the point of freezing some, but we managed to eat them all fresh. By the end of the season I was shelling them and even serving some in cream sauce.

Durn good lettuce year too, but we weren't here for most of lettuce season. I bought seed labeled Buttercrunch and got oakleaf, grrr. I haven't found good Buttercrunch seed in years. I get this lame stuff that looks like Buttercrunch on the package, but lacks the buttery, convoluted texture and grows straight up like romaine. This year, oakleaf. Double grrrr.

I brought a big bag of our Sungold cherry tomatoes on the flight to Trinidad. This was the first year I ever had a tomato ripen in June! They taste best warmed by the sun, right out of the garden, but they tasted mighty fine thousands of feet up over the Caribbean, too.

I’m all for slow local food, the kind you grow yourself. Chet Baker loves green beans, but he much prefers them steamed and buttered, or sautéed with garlic. Like us, however, he prefers his sugar snap peas raw.



Here, I’m wallowing in the fruits of our garden (and the neighboring you-pick blueberry farm).

photo by Bill of the Birds

Snapping beans is one of my favorite activities—it’s contemplative, productive, and mindless all at once.
Photo by Bill of the Birds.

The old Wear Ever pot I’m using belonged to my mom. She used it to make popcorn, and I still do. The sound of the first kernels being dropped into it, of its wiggly-handled lid clapping on, will bring the kids and dog at a dead run, just like it did 40 years ago in a kitchen in Virginia. Different kids, different dog, same feeling of surprise and delight. Mom’s making popcorn! My mom used to make enough to fill a turkey roasting pan half up, and then she’d sit on the couch with it on her lap and we’d all dive in. Sweet memories.



Here, you can cue the first soft piano notes of “A Summer Place.”

It's Pea Pickin' Time

Ah, summer. Tire swings and fresh garden vegetables, bare limbs and dogs belly-down in cool grass, gorging on peas.
We're home, as of 10:30 last night. Sleeping in our own beds, hearing our own crickets and night sounds. We're all so happy to be home. The gardens survived. My housesitters are brilliant. Chet got all his booster shots and spent a week in the kennel and is back on bunny patrol, playing Gremlin's Gold at night, tug-of war and tag with the kids. He's a mighty forgiving little animal. People should spring back so readily.We are smothering him with love and he's soaking it all up. He slept with Phoebe last night, a beatific grin on both their faces.

I got up at 7 this morning and was still watering at 9. It's been wicked dry here, but I soaked everything the evening before we left and the plants hung in there until I could get back.

The word is in: I have Rocky Mountain spotted fever. A mild case, I think. Still on antibiotic and feeling fine but for sore arms and more fatigue than usual. Great. Two tick-borne diseases on my resume.

North Dakota was amazing. I can't really begin to describe it without pictures, and those are coming, as are the thoughts that go with them. For now, I'm placeholding with peas. The important stuff has to be done first, like picking fat sugar snap peas. Finally, for the first time in my life, I have enough of them. Five big rows of two varieties--early Sugar Ann bush peas, and later Sugar Snap climbers. The early peas are at peak; the climbers are just now coming in. We took a big bag of them on the plane and ate them all week. What a godsend. I love North Dakota but I don't consider iceberg lettuce a vegetable, and after a couple days of pizza and hamburgers and meat and bread and potatoes with tiny iceberg lettuce side salads I get this hungry glint in my eye and consider dropping to my hands and knees to eat clover. Chlorophyll is what I need.

Baker helped us pick peas this morning. He flopped down on my tuberoses and glads and supervised while Phoebe and I worked.I never saw a green vegetable the entire week in the kennel. I do not know what is wrong with those people. Kibble and meat, that's all they gave me. I am starving for peas.
I would appreciate it if you would shell them for me, but I will eat the pods if you are too lazy.
He picks his own, leaving a distinctive chewed stub on the plant. But he cannot be trusted around the harvest.
Nor can Sir Liam. He's a two-fisted sugar snap pea eater. He has always called them sugar nas peas, so we do, too.Enough peas to share. Life is good.