See, I feel like I more often hear the phrase “pea soup” referring to the contents of infants’ diapers than to the actual food.
But how could you ever compare these tiny green spheres, melting into one another, punctuated by velvety white pillows of potato and a brilliant spectrum of spring carrots to anything less than heavenly?
Nope. No matter how you try to dress it up, there’s just not
much romanticizing when the word pea is involved (R. Kelly notwithstanding (TOO SOON GROSS)).
But not everything has to be sexy, you know? Just because it ain’t pretty doesn’t mean it ain’t good, or that it’s a classic dish that needs to be “elevated” with exotic ingredients or whimsical techniques.
This "don't judge a soup by its color" principle is obviously one of the oldest in the book (you know, the one with an un-judged cover), but it was demonstrated in yet another way for me tonight. Since Harold Ramis left this plane on Monday, much has been said and internetted about his oeuvre. I must admit, I didn't grow up with the same attachment to his films that most of my generation seems to have. I grew up steeped in AMC back when it stood for American Movie Classics, in movie musicals, in lots and lots of Hitchcock. Thus, there's a pretty big gap in my pop culture consciousness from about the mid-70s to mid-90s. I just watched Ghostbusters for the first time in the last few years -- a fact that has elicited charges of heresy.
I'm not opposed to filling out my movie knowledge, but for some reason, I just always figured Caddyshack would not hold up. Never appealed to me -- I assumed it was the type of movie found in an infant's diaper.
You know what? I was wrong. Sure, the plot is a bit tenuous, it's pretty raunchy, the gopher took a while to convince me, and I still don't know what Chevy Chase put in that girl's drink. But I sure did laugh, a lot and hard. Some masterful line deliveries and virtuoso performances -- color me wrong. I'm not too evolved for Caddyshack.
But not everything has to be sexy, you know? Just because it ain’t pretty doesn’t mean it ain’t good, or that it’s a classic dish that needs to be “elevated” with exotic ingredients or whimsical techniques.
This "don't judge a soup by its color" principle is obviously one of the oldest in the book (you know, the one with an un-judged cover), but it was demonstrated in yet another way for me tonight. Since Harold Ramis left this plane on Monday, much has been said and internetted about his oeuvre. I must admit, I didn't grow up with the same attachment to his films that most of my generation seems to have. I grew up steeped in AMC back when it stood for American Movie Classics, in movie musicals, in lots and lots of Hitchcock. Thus, there's a pretty big gap in my pop culture consciousness from about the mid-70s to mid-90s. I just watched Ghostbusters for the first time in the last few years -- a fact that has elicited charges of heresy.
I'm not opposed to filling out my movie knowledge, but for some reason, I just always figured Caddyshack would not hold up. Never appealed to me -- I assumed it was the type of movie found in an infant's diaper.
You know what? I was wrong. Sure, the plot is a bit tenuous, it's pretty raunchy, the gopher took a while to convince me, and I still don't know what Chevy Chase put in that girl's drink. But I sure did laugh, a lot and hard. Some masterful line deliveries and virtuoso performances -- color me wrong. I'm not too evolved for Caddyshack.
This split pea soup just tastes good. Get over yourself and eat it. It’s just like Caddyshack’s protagonist – his splotchy face and terrible dental hygiene didn’t stop the movie from being hilarious.
After a few nights of unpleasant dreams, I feel like I should start inserting a judgment of the recipe based on their subconscious consequences. This soup yielded:
Dream 1: Supremely excellent New Year’s Eve party in a sweet house on a mountain, surrounded by all my family and friends old and new. New beginnings, happiness, celebration.
Dream 2: I scheduled a haircut. WORLD-SHAKING!
I’d say this soup did a bang-up job of highlighting both my desires and my needs. [Caveat: it could have been the Hello Honey ice cream we had for dessert.]
There’s a scene in Caddyshack that takes place in the club’s pro shop (is that what it’s called? Why am I pretending like I know what it’s called? Why didn’t I just say “shop”? We’ll never know…) – Rodney Dangerfield disparages a hat by saying, “You buy a hat like this, I bet you get a free bowl of soup.”
If that bowl of soup was as satisfying as this one, I’d take that as a compliment.
P.S. If I say "R.I.Pea, Harold Ramis," will y'all get that for me, resting in peas would be a fate devoutly to be wished, and not just a brash tie-in to the soup? No? Best to leave it out, then.
Ina Garten's Split Pea Soup
Original recipe here
Serves six as a main course
GET THIS STUFF
1/8 cup olive oil
1 cup diced onion
3 cloves garlic
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
2 cups small-diced carrots (I used rainbow carrots for fun)
1 cup diced red-skinned potatoes, scrubbed but not peeled
1 pound dried split peas, split into 2 half-pound portions
8 cups chicken stock (I used Better than Bouillon vegan no-chicken base)
DO THIS WITH IT
Heat oil over medium-low heat in your soup pot, then add onion, garlic, oregano, salt and pepper. It's going to look like a lot of pepper, but it's going to be a lot of soup. Cook slowly for about 15 minutes, until onions are nice and soft.
Add carrots, potatoes, half-pound of split peas, and broth. Bring to a boil, reduce heat and simmer uncovered for 40 minutes.
Add remaining peas and simmer for another 40 minutes. Adding the peas in two intervals allows the first batch to completely melt into a mushy pea situation while the second batch provides some tender (but still intact) pea texture.
You'll want to check the liquid frequently during the last 40 minutes -- I ended up adding about 1.5 cups of water to the pot to keep it a good consistency, and really could have added more.
When second batch of peas are tender, taste for salt and pepper and serve.
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