A mess of zipper peas.
As I'll tell y'all in Tuesday's column, I finally got my hands on some zipper peas.
A few times in as many years, I've mentioned them -- kinda like pale yellow-green, black-eyed peas without the black eye. My papaw planted them years ago, and hardly anyone I've asked since knows what in the world they are, at least north of Hattiesburg, Miss.
But, lo and behold, an anonymous angel from Bartlesville, no doubt with Southern roots, mailed me some seeds, which my friend Charlotte planted in her garden this spring. Weeks later, she gave me a mess of 'em, and I shelled them one hot night, then froze them until I built up the courage to attempt a pot.
You see, I'm related to truly fabulous cooks, chiefly my mama and two grandmothers. Mom, though, makes the best zipper peas, and it sounds oh-so easy when you hear her rattle off the ingredients and instructions. I called her all excited the day Charlotte gave the peas to me (in a wicker basket, no less, like a photo out of Southern Living magazine), and she suggested I use bacon grease, or maybe even just bacon. No surprise there, as nothing growing up tasted home-fresh like veggies right out of the garden, cooked in bacon grease. Sigh ...
Surprisingly, though, I don't fix bacon at home, so my friend Cathy from work brought me some last week in a little Tupperware-like container. Last night, I summoned up the courage to cook the peas, despite fearing they wouldn't come close to tasting like Mom's.
I plopped a spoonful of bacon grease (i.e., two) in the pot of peas, along with a few cubes of chicken bullion. Maybe that was a no-no. Whatever, I cooked them 30 minutes and, 45 minutes later, they were all gone, save for less than one cup's worth for food writer Natalie to try.
No, they didn't taste like my mama's. However, I refer you to their 45-minute life span post-cooking. I'm not a total pig, thank you; Lubbock helped me eat them, too, AND he said they were great.
Still, there must be magic in mom's stove-side manner, as hers could wallop mine -- and probably anyone else's pot -- in a zipper pea contest.
Peas, love and zippers ... XOXO
