I always associate split pea soup with this time of year. Natch, I guess, because peas are among the first things in the garden to harvest in the spring. Though here in the northeast gardening outdoors is still a month or so away, peas are popping up in the produce section.
Growing up, I never really cared for peas. My parents would beg me to eat them. But I was stubborn. No go. Peas and beets were on my “do not eat” list. One day though, my Mama brought me to a luncheon and split pea soup was served.
Backing up just a minute, she harped on good manners, and to this day, I’m so grateful she did, and I find that I’m the same with my children. Among one of her rules: if you are a guest at someone’s table, you eat whatever is served to you, no if’s and’s or but’s. So, this bowl of split pea soup was there right in front of me, waiting for me to dive in.
I stared at it for a while. Tried to give my Mama the puppy dog eyes, begging for an excused nod. Nope. Not even close. She ignored me. I had no other option. I had to eat the soup.
I picked up the spoon, and scooped a small amount and put it in my mouth. Expecting to gag at the taste, I didn’t. Something in the soup was familiar; a comforting flavor. “Hmmm” I thought. “Maybe I should take another bite.” So I did. I tasted ham, which really complimented the peas. Little did I know that ham is a mainstay in this soup.
“This can’t be” I thought to myself. “Am I liking split pea soup?”
The stubborn part of me didn’t want to admit that I liked something I campaigned so hard not to like. But the other part of me was happy that I started to expand my palette. I actually liked something green.
This Split Pea Soup would be a wonderful addition to your Easter menu, too.