You know that you can add them to ANYTHING that you want it to cool down quickly, don't you? Well, anything savoury, I suppose.
Posts Tagged ‘peas’
The Husband and I went to a restaurant in Rome where we had a carbonara-y thing made with roast boar and peas, so I quite often make carbonara with frozen peas now to go some way to alleviating the guilt that I feel from eating a meal made up of 98% pasta with a squidge of protein and fat. And it's authentic-ish.
Pancetta or smoked bacon, about 150g. Or half a packet of the pancetta I buy.
Couple of eggs.
Some parmesan. About 100g, or as much as you like.
A slug of white wine if there's any in the fridge.
And a slug of cream if you've any knocking about.
Pasta of some description, however much you need for however many you are. These amounts of bacon etc would feed 3-4.
Frozen peas, a handful thereof.
Boil the kettle for your pasta, meanwhile grate your parmesan into a jug, crack in your eggs (and fling in your cream if you have any). Put in the pasta. You now have 8-12 mins to get everything else together. Easy.
Cook off your chopped pancetta or bacon in a deep frying pan until it picks up quite a bit of colour. Once it is nice and caramelly, chuck in your wine if you have it so that the alcohol boils off. The peas do in now as well, they only take a couple of minutes.
Your pasta should be ready, hopefully, so you can drain it quickly and put into the frying pan. I tend to keep back a bit of the pasta water in case the sauce needs a bit of loosening. Then put in the cheese and egg mixture, stirring it well. The heat of the pasta cooks the egg in the sauce, but as it happens I always use very fresh lion-marked eggs so I reckon we're alright. If it gets a bit tight just throw in a couple of spoonfuls of pasta water.
Anyway, we like this a lot and as long as we stick to penne or fusilli rather than the more traditional spaghetti then Babybear can eat it until the cows (or indeed boar) come home.
The thing I hate about making A Proper Spanish Omelette is getting the damned potatoes fried without burning the onions. Yes, you should do it separately but honestly, who has the time?
So I stick the potato in the microwave and bake it. Heresy, obviously. (Should I expect the Spanish Omelette Inquisition?)
Meanwhile, cut your onion into attractive segments and fry it gently in olive oil or, as Moomin would say, 'the grease of your choice'. Mix up a couple of eggs. Chop up your cooked potato (who can be bothered peeling it, by the way? Not I.) Throw it in with the onions and fry for a while until the potatoes take on a bit of colour. Shouldn't take more than a few minutes.
Pour over your egg and staunchly resist the temptation to faff around with it. You might have wanted to add a bit more before putting the egg in, by the way. Drop some frozen peas onto the uncooked egg, as popping something green into the recipe will make you feel like A Better Parent. Cook for a few minutes and then flip it or if you are too much of a coward you could finish it under the grill.
This makes enough for Babybear and myself for lunch, she loves it and it's pretty healthy all told, so long as you aren't avoiding eggs for allergy-style reasons.
Well, petis pois actually, because that's what we happened to have in the freezer, but we might buy ordinary-sized peas the next time. Not sure, though. One of my friends (actually the mother of the rather spendid Bubby) pointed out that peas might represent more of a choking hazard. I'll have a think about it, but she is a Canadian and they are born worriers, that lot. If I do buy the normal-sized peas, I was planning to squash them a bit in advance. Your opinions and comments will, of course, be taken into consideration as well.
Oh anyway, she was a hoot with them, though… really the cutest thing. We had microwaved the peas, covered in a bowl with just a splash of water to retain as many vitamins as possible and we served them in the gravy of the rather marvellous beef stew that I've been banging on about. By 'served', I naturally mean 'spooned elegantly onto the highchair tray'.
She grabbed for them then clasped them in her wee fist, flicking them into her mouth like a Pez dispenser. For some reason, prior to picking them up she likes to point at them, move them slowly around the table with her index finger and then make a sudden but deadly lunge at the pile.