Shopping at the local Northwoods grocery store is a bit challenging. We get local items when we can, but when it comes to most things that is not an option. Our area is historically trapping, logging, and mining country, not farming country. The growing season is too short, and the soil quality is poor. Most quality-raised food has to travel much farther than we are used to in California. Sometimes shopping here is about choosing the least of several processed evils. This is after all, a part of the world where it is socially acceptable to buy and serve Velveeta.
For the summer we cook like we’re camping. We try to make careful choices while remembering that, sometimes, food is just fuel. And without a dishwasher, one-pot meals with off the shelf ingredients have distinct advantages.
Since this cabin is typically occupied by someone in the family throughout the year, the cupboard and freezer are often filled with groceries other people have purchased. The kind of food men buy on a fishing trip.
But no amount of Michael Pollan-esque food guilt can allow me to waste food. I may not make the same purchasing decisions, but when the might-as-well-be-generic brand of canned peas (yes, canned peas… shudder) are taking up space in the pantry, they ought really be eaten up.
The nice thing was that I had both bacon and a ham steak from the meat purveyor at the local farmer’s market. I had bought a chicken from him as well and roasted it earlier in the week, so I had homemade chicken stock in my arsenal too.
Futility Farms sends a nice guy with a truck full of freezers each Thursday to sell their grass-fed beef. Thanks to their neighbors raising animals with similar philosophical bent, there are also conscientiously-raised chicken, pork, and lamb. The meat comes all the way from Gilman, Wisconsin.
I remembered my father mentioning my grandmother’s recipe for my favorite pea soup is made with canned peas. And although that soup is beef based with drop dumplings, I decided to freestyle with some pork products, chicken stock, and my forsaken canned peas.
Finished in less than 30 minutes, it was fabulously cozy on a stormy, grey evening. The Child had seconds, and requested leftovers the next day. Like all pea soups, this one gets better each day in the fridge.
She wondered why we’d never made this before. Good question, honey. Turns out we will be putting canned peas on our pantry staples shopping list from now on. Cheers to not wasting food and taking a chance.
Canned Pea Soup
1 ham steak, diced
1-2 rashers bacon, chopped
1 onion, finely chopped
3 cans, canned peas, drained and rinsed
Homemade chicken stock
Pepper to taste
Saute the onion, bacon, and ham. No extra oil or salt is necessary to saute as the pork bits provide sufficient fat and flavor. When the onions are cooked through and beginning to brown on the bottom of the sauce pan, add the drained and rinsed peas. Stir to combine and add chicken stock to cover.
Stir occasionally while the soup heats through. Some of the peas will break up on their own, and I suppose some folks might like to take a potato masher to it at this point, but we liked leaving our peas intact.
Served dinner for two, leftovers for a day or two, plus half the batch in the freezer for a rainy day.
Raising an Omnivorous Child 
You must be logged in to post a comment.