Give peas a chance

Pea picking must be going out of style, because I can't find anywhere near to pick a mess of peas, and that's unusual.  The pea of my finest choice is named Sadandy, which I find funny, in the hey, that's interesting way, because remove a couple of letters, and hey, there I totally am by way of letters.  If you didn't know, I live in an area of the country that is no stranger to pea farmers, bean farmers, melon farmers, tomato farmers, peanut farmers, cotton farmers, corn farmers, tobacco farmers, soybean farmers and gosh who knows what else they farm.  Not me, because I'm not a farmer.  I'm just a pea picking, tomato plucking, blueberry picking, gnat waving, mosquito slapping, sweat wiping small city (yes, I said city) dweller who occasionally finds her way to the source of locally grown goodness.  Yesterday I spent the better part of my day tracking down and putting up two bushels of peas for the time of year when there won't be any fresh peas to be found.  I not only gave peas a chance, I embraced peas early on as one of my favorite vegetables, albeit a starchy childhood choice for certain.  I'm sad to say that my other favorite veggies also fall into the starch category -- peas, potatoes and corn.  I wish they didn't taste so good, but oh how good they taste.  My mother invited me to stay for dinner after I had finished blanching and bagging two bushels of peas under her supervision yesterday.  I'm not a canning, preserving, pickling expert, because my mother often does this for me while I'm working, but since both she and I are getting older, I thought it best to re-familiarize myself with the process, which can be hard to hold onto between growing seasons.  I'm no everyday cook either, so when she invites me for dinner, I'm there, and since I was already there, I stayed.  And reader, the only thing we didn't have of my favorite starchy veggies was potatoes.  My mother made fresh cream style corn, fresh peas, fried chicken, sliced tomatoes and the best lacy cornbread I think that woman has ever made.  It was so thin, crispy and delicious that I almost could not believe my taste buds.  One day I may rue the day I was born a southerner, like say the next time I get my cholesterol checked, but yesterday wasn't that day.   

Which brings me back to those Sadandy peas that I'm in search of.  I can't find them.  On top of that, I'm worried that the small southern farmer is going by the way side.  When I called around looking for a mess of Sadandys today, I was told that my favorite small farmer is no longer farming, due to health issues.  And he isn't the first of his generation to give up the pea planting ghost.  Gosh, I hope I won't have to add the role of pea planter to my ever growing list of things I need to learn before the all-knowing and growing generation disappears.  Where are the future farmers of America?   If you know any of those national treasures, please show them this way, or at least give them a well deserved hoorah of encouragement!


                                                            Here lies lacy cornbread. 

I borrowed this photo from the world wide web.

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