A New Year: Giving Thanks For Black Eyed Peas And Fleas

The foam is forming on my soaking black eyed peas, and I can't help but adore the southern tradition of eating this particular food for good luck. Unlike most other 'lucky' dishes intended to bring financial wealth (collard greens for plenty of folding green, corn for the color of gold), black eyed peas represent something else entirely. Yes, money, wealth, everything cash can do for us is swell. But black eyed peas remind me of bigger things.

Black eyed peas were originally brought to the States from Africa on slave ships, sustaining this unbelievable population of survivors. This humble food fed slaves. Slaves. This is the flavor of unthinkable hardship, a food present during one of the most ghastly aspects of southern history. Eating black eyed peas places us at the same table as those who were never invited to share the same table.

Then, after becoming integrated into southern agriculture, black eyed peas were mistaken as cattle feed by the northern troops during the Civil War. Everything else was destroyed, but black eyed peas were ignored, and became sustenance for confederate troops. This represented luck in its purest form, after all, starvation can claim even the most convicted fighter. Try eating money.

My soaking black eyed peas remind me of other heavy times, times laden with injustice and oppression such as those during World War II. Corrie ten Boom's The Hiding Place was written to help us remember what these times looked like for the oppressed. Within the walls of Ravensbruck concentration camp, Betsie ten Boom (the author's sister) due to her unyielding faith, gave thanks for even the fleas infesting her room. It was later discovered the fleas themselves were the reason the Boom sisters and their fellow prisoners where spared from constant inspections and severity from prison guards who refused to enter their quarters.

In this current climate, with a New Year and the presidential inauguration at our door, black eyed peas give me pause. They remind me to be grateful for things I've forgotten. This cheap food, mistaken for animal feed, with enough nutritional and cultural strength to sustain individuals who went through generations of treatment so painful I wish I could turn my head from it, I am reminded to grip my fork, and everything in between, fiercely.

Looking at what is missing or what is going wrong is easy. Giving thanks in the midst of this is not. But, what makes us a united people? Perhaps eating together, from the same table? We were all born hungry. We all have to eat. There is common ground here.

It's not the extravagant that keeps us fed.  I am grateful for this. For black eyed peas. For a hope stronger than our bill folds. And yes, even for the fleas.

Roasted Apple and Butternut Squash Soup

Soups are a big cold weather favorite over here, and from what I can gather, most everywhere once the season turns brisk. A slab of buttered bread and a steaming bowl of vegetable studded broth, slow braised beef and root vegetables, or a silky puree of roasted winter squashes sees us all the way into spring. Soup also defies the grab-and-go tendency, requiring a table, chair and most often a spoon. This may by why soup is so easy to love. Preparation can be simple to involved, but eating soup always helps us take a quiet moment out of our day, it taps us on the shoulder and invites us to come sit.

Roasted Apple and Butternut Squash Soup:

*1 large butternut squash

*4 apples, peeled, quartered, seeds removed

*1 large sweet onion, peeled and quartered

*4 celery stalks

*2 carrots, tops removed

*4 garlic cloves, peeled

*4 Tablespoons olive oil

*about 5-6 cups bone broth, organic chicken broth (or vegetable broth)

*4 Tablespoons butter 

*sea salt

*black pepper

Preheat oven to 350. Line a baking sheet with parchment. Split butternut lengthwise and scoop out the pulp and seeds. Quarter and remove outer skin with a knife. Chop into 2 inch cubes and place on baking sheet with the apples, onion, celery, carrots and garlic. Drizzle with olive oil and season everything with sea salt and pepper. Gently toss to coat in the oil. Bake until all items are tender and fragrant, about 30 minutes. 

Remove from oven and allow to cool slightly. Transfer items to a large soup pot and cover with broth adding enough to submerge all the vegetables. Bring to a gentle simmer. Cover and simmer for 15 minutes. Remove from heat and blend with an immersion blender or (cool slightly) then working in batches, puree in a blender or food processor until completely smooth. Return to soup pot over low heat and add the butter and additional seasonings to taste. Cream can also be added to taste. 

Portion into bowls. Garnish with plain whole yogurt or sour cream and chives. 

Whole Maple Roasted Carrots with Sea Salt and Marigold Petals

Sometimes the simplest recipes end up being keepers. This one is so basic, it can be thrown together quickly on the shirttails of a busy day, and still carry its own element of being special and thoughtful. So here is an idea to keep in your back pocket the next time a quick side dish is required. Perfect for fall, especially if you still have citrusy marigolds (and carrots) in your garden. 

Whole Maple Roasted Carrots with Sea Salt and Marigold Petals:
*4 lbs organic carrots (assorted colors are fun too)
*olive oil
*3 Tablespoons maple syrup
*sea salt
*Italian flat leaf parsley, chopped 
*marigold petals from 2-3 marigold flowers 

Preheat oven to 350. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment. Rinse and peel carrots, leaving tops if they are in good shape. Divide carrots evenly between baking sheets and drizzle with olive oil and maple syrup to coat. Sprinkle with sea salt. Toss gently to coat carrots evenly. Bake on center and upper rack of oven for 45 minutes (add more or less time depending on thickness of carrots) and roast until thickest part of carrots are tender, alternating racks halfway though. Remove from heat and transfer to a serving plate. Sprinkle with additional sea salt. Garnish with chopped parsley and marigold petals. Serve warm.  

Lately

Greetings from WNC. A few snapshots from the kitchen and garden....

~Greasy beans~

~Paw paws~

~Butternuts~

~Curried butternut squash galette~

~Broom Corn~

~Hibiscus fruits from my friend Dana~

~A bowl of Arkansas black~

~Late summer visitors~

~Fresh hibiscus tea with honey~

Summer Salutation

The approaching autumnal equinox marks the beginning of fall, and daylight equal to dark hours. This is typically a time to celebrate the summer bounty, though some say it is a time of grieving as summer ends and preparations are made for winter. The autumn equinox initiates a time to prepare a slower pace, space to rest and reflect. 

On a goldfinch’s wing,

memory of spring.

Yellow wingstem,

swollen grape,

dropping buckeye,

sated snake.

A bed made,

the table set.

Eat.

Gorge.

Regret.

What was sown, 

we reap.

Golden wheat. 

Soon sleep.

With frost 

and rot

our ready nest, 

on our dream’s fledgling’s 

place bets.

Hope.

Pray.

A fruitful season 

of decay.

Later we will stir, 

to days heavier 

than night.

Until then 

we grieve.

Mourn.

Save seed.

Again

we will rise 

with the fiddle head, 

the hungry hive.

Hush.

Listen.

A burial is near.

Our seen breath.

Death.

Welcome guest.

Lay with me 

and 

us rest.

Serviceberry Shortcake, Yolk Hearts and More.....

Some recent 'stories':

~This year I strayed from the usual serviceberry application and instead piled the berries on shortcake. Really, you could almost put anything on top of a flaky biscuit and whipped cream, but this was by no means a stretch.~

~While slicing open a dozen hard boiled eggs to devil for a potluck.........~

~Too much spinach in the garden led to this questionable idea. Spinach, feta, lemon zest.~

~Campanula~

A Burial In Spring