Mushy Peas
The Brits enjoy them some Florida, so it’s not surprising that many a Publix food store in that state has a section devoted to traditional British chow. Wandering through the aisles of one such grocery last weekend, I came upon Batchelors* Mushy Peas:
I was, of course, intrigued by the name (seems derogatory; not intended to be) and the green splat logo, so I grabbed a can. Back home, I opened it up, and it looked pretty much like split pea soup without the broth. Warmed, their flavor was not bad, pretty much exactly as you’d expect; the peas were actually quite big, not like the usual dried split peas, and they were, as advertised, mushy.
My understanding is that in the old country, they are a frequent accompaniment to fish and chips. I thought they were just fine (and not hard to make: if you can score some marrowfat beans, soak ‘em overnight, then simmer – it’s that easy to make mushy peas).
Just thought you’d want to know,
David “Second Generation Liverpudlian, Mate” Hammond
*I suppose “Batchelors” is the family name of the manufacturer, though at the point-of-purchase, I ignored the spelling and imagined that the product line was maybe named for the target demographic: Those who can do just exactly whatever they want to do! And do you know why? Because they’re Young Ones. Bachelor boys. Crazy, mad, wild-eyed, big-bottomed anarchists.
"Don't you ever underestimate the power of a female." Bootsy Collins