Pasta with Peas

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Lately, I feel like it’s a miracle I’m even cooking. My spirits have been struggling, my energy low, although I’m working to wear smiles on the outside. After a day of substitute teaching and working on projects for my night class all I want to close my eyes and lay on my couch - shut down. Most evening I confront the light, which is my kitchen, and make peace with myself. At least I refuse to give up cooking.

The realities of what it means to start life over again are settling into my heart and spirit as I wonder if I’ve made the right choices. Everyday has a mental exercise to live in the moment, to not get lost in the past or worry about the future. As of late, telling myself that I am enough and I have enough just isn’t enough for me. The ceremonious plating of meals for one, vibrant with color and rich in emotion; they continue to fill me because everything in my life feels so utterly confusing. There’s also no love, dating, or romance. The possibility of that entering into my life right now seems so far away I can’t see it or imagine it. I’ve been living in phase of an extremely long and somewhat never ending right now.

My refrigerator, once lined with butter, flour, colorful vegetables and fruit is somewhat sad with eggs, condiments, a few olives and just enough for me to scrape my meals together and get creative. I’ve lost something inside of me, and I know I have to find it again. But my freezer; however, looks packed with possibility above all else. Lined with shrimp, flounder, a pork tenderloin, fruits, veggies, breads and soups - I came home tonight, sat at my kitchen nook and let my mind meal-wander. Although I had split pea soup on Saturday, hearty winter fare that will feed for days, I found myself longing for spring this evening. Maybe it’s the way the light filtered in through the windows of the classroom I worked in today; filled with a touch of hope, warmth and sunlight that promises better days to come. Or maybe it was the long walk home? It’s not even the dead of winter yet in NYC and I’m already thinking of spring.

Growing up my grandmother and mother would prepare pasta with peas. Tonight’s preparation for pasta and peas is not as I ate it when I was a child, instead I’ve added my own wintry take by cooking the peas down into a thick sauce and serving it with chicken sausage. In the spring we’d use fresh peas, some prosciutto, pancetta or bacon and toss it with a little bit of ricotta over farfalle. Tonight I let the thick sauce, made from frozen peas, coat long, perfectly nested spirals of spaghetti and I topped it with browned chicken sausage because why not … protein.

The last time I made this dish, it was shared with friends. Food tastes different when I feel this way and eat it alone. It alleviates some of the uncertainty I carry when it feels like life isn’t moving.

But, I suppose we are always in motion - even when we believe we may not be.

Quick recipe below for a  13 minute freezer, pantry and staple meal.

Pasta with Peas

1 10 oz box of frozen peas, defrosted
1/2 an onion, diced
1 T of butter
3 heaping T of pecorino
1/2 cup of pasta water
1/2 lb of spaghetti

*I topped this pasta and peas with chicken sausage instead of porking it up with pancetta or sausage like my nonna used to, keeping this meal on the lighter side - which was perfect for today’s family lunch

Boil pasta water and salt, adding a teaspoon of olive oil and when water comes to a rolling boil add spaghetti and cook until al dente - about 10 minutes

Add butter and onion to a large pan and sauté over a medium flame until translucent

Add peas, lower flame - pinch of salt, cover and cook for 6-7 minutes

Uncover peas, add pasta water to the mixture (yes you spoon the starchy water right out of your pasta pot while it’s cooking and cook your peas in it)

Mash peas with a potato masher or two forks to make a thick “sauce”

Add pecorino and mix well

Once spaghetti is done, using a large slotted spoon or spaghetti spoon, transfer cooked spaghetti to your pea mixture and toss to coat well

Serve with a drizzle of olive oil, cheese and protein pop of your choice if you’d like