One simple pleasure I prefer to keep to myself in the kitchen is shucking English Peas. No, not on Friday at 6pm, but on a Tuesday, for an hour between 3 and 4, it's not a bad job. There is a whole romantic idea of being in touch with the food, with the smooth and round texture of the peas and pods are theripudic in some sense. Plus you can spend a good amount of brain power doing something beside thinking about the peas. You can plan out the day, daydream, think about specials, daydream, think about what to do next, daydream, think about how busy it's gonna be this Friday, daydream!!! Basicly, you can understand why I enjoy shucking English Peas.
Fava beans are a different species. They get shucked twice over, with a cooking, cooling, and slippery element introduced inbetween shuckings. Even this is ok with me. It's a give-take situation because once the peas are blanched you can pop a few in your mouth while peeling the rest. Three favas for the pan, one fava bean for me.... and so on.
Fresh chick peas are a completely different anger inducing, mind altering, shrill experiance that seems more tourturous that tourneying potatoes, or quenelles, or flutted mushrooms!! Two pound of these little devils took me a good hour to pick, resulting in a thrilling 2 cups of product. The peas don't fall out of the pod which is the main stumbling point. The peas is securly held to the stem. The skins are tough and smooth so without a good fingernail your headed nowhere fast. Then, while from the outside they all look the same they are divided equally between beautiful plump green peas, shriveled up tiny pin points, and grey/brown/slimy balls of infuriating glory. I hope never again in my life will I be subject to shucking fresh chick peas...ever, never ever!!!
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