Spring Peas Two Ways

I used to be offended when market vendors tried to foist their deals on me.

I thought it was a reflection on my status as a foreigner, something I’ve always hated. I know that I have an accent, but I feel like a Parisian, and I expect to be treated as one, even though I know that that’s not always going to happen.

Recently, though, I realized that I may have misconstrued the way that I am being treated at the markets.

My aunt recently visited me for a bit more than a week, and while she was here, we traipsed all over Paris, including many of the daily markets. I watched as the women interacted with the vendors, and I realized something: the Parisian housewives, the ones with their little carriages for carrying their purchases home who could not be mistaken for anything besides locals were getting the exact same treatment as I was.

“One kilo of strawberries.”

“I can give you two for five!”

And here was the difference: where I was usually guilted into accepting the offer, these women knew what they wanted.

“No, one is enough.”

They didn’t see my Americanness before the question was asked, but after, after I had given my begrudging, “OK.” All I had to do was say, “no, thank you.”

I started at my local market a week later, setting off to buy peas for an Asparagus and Pea dish I had found on Epicurious.

“One kilo of peas, please.”

“I can give you two for eight,” was the answer. I almost spat out, “No,” right away, eager to test my new theory, but then I decided that it was a good price and decided to take them. Oh well, theories for another day, right? Until I realized I could buy my asparagus from the same stall.

“And a bundle of asparagus.”

Almost automatically, the vendor answered, “I can give you two for five!”

“No, one is fine.” I answered.

“Very good, miss.”

I paid, I left with my produce… and I felt Parisian.

I also, of course, had a lot of peas to contend with.

I started with the Asparagus and Pea dish. I really wanted to like it–the description sounded so enticing: fresh peas and asparagus, brought together with the taste of freshly picked basil and onions sautéed in butter. But alas, it was not to be: maybe it was my French-style white asparagus. Maybe it was the fact that spring asparagus here are much fatter around than the American ones. Maybe it would have been better with roasted asparagus, with a bit of pesto used to bind the vegetables a bit more… but something wasn’t right with this dish, as pretty as it was. It was fine, but it didn’t feel like quite the right way to celebrate fresh spring peas.

I had more peas to use up, and this time, I ventured forth without a recipe. I shelled a bunch of peas and cooked them in butter on the stovetop. I cooked some farfalle and mixed a bit of the starchy water with some pesto and the peas, adding salt and pepper. I tossed it all together, and Alex and I had it for lunch.

I hate to toot my own horn, but my invention was a much better use of these gorgeous peas than that asparagus dish was… not that I’m giving up on it yet. I know that my market vendor will be more than happy to sell me some more fresh spring veggies!

This is my submission to April’s round of Eating with the Seasons. Feel free to head over and send your own submissions until April 20th!

For more stories about my market adventures, feel free to check out my post about my local Place Monge market at my travel blog, Bordeaux and Palmiers!

Spring Pea Pasta

Because I just sort of threw this together, I don’t have a real recipe. It’s very easy to recreate at home, though!

First, measure out enough dry pasta for two people. Begin cooking it in boiling, salted water.

Next, measure out an equal amount of freshly shelled peas. Heat some butter in a skillet, and add the peas, stirring to coat. Add some salt and pepper. Cover the skillet and cook over medium-low heat, stirring occasionally, for about eight minutes, or until the peas are cooked through.

Reserve a ladleful of pasta water and drain the rest of the pasta. Add it to the skillet with the peas, along with a few tablespoons of storebought pesto (use as much as you like.) Add as much pasta water as you need to thin out the sauce, and add salt and pepper to taste.

Remove the pasta from the skillet to a serving bowl, and tear some fresh basil leaves over the top. Serve with parmesan cheese if you like!