Pea and Cheese Salad

...on a cold wintery night.

As we got out of the car,  dusk settling on the snowy landscape, faces whipped by icy winds our host reminded us to stamp our feet at the door before entering, “we don’t want to bring the snow in,” he told us. Not a consideration we were used to making. Inside we were met by joyous greetings, our coats taken and hung as we were welcomed to our friend’s home and invited to warm ourselves by the fire. The room was filled with conversation flying in all directions to the sound track of wind whistling through the trees outside reminding us of the day we’d just experienced on our journey to rural Michigan. A day spent watching snow storms repeatedly engulf our small commuter aircraft at Toronto airport each one ending in a layer of anti-freeze to no avail until finally we were able to take off and continue to our destination and a visit with friends.

Earlier in that year we’d travelled to Sydney to a family wedding. On a perfect weekend of endless sunshine, a large lovely group of friends and family celebrating love and friendship in all the ways we all hope for. It was one of those happy celebratory weekends everyone remembers for a long time and becomes a benchmark for such gatherings. The kind of weekend when strangers walk away as friends, exchanging phone numbers and addresses and promises to stay in touch (it was 1989, no socials or emails). We also on this occasion walked away with an invitation of hospitality on an already planned upcoming holiday to the United States. Thirty-five years ago this was a fairly normal and happily accepted invitation, perhaps not so much in today’s society, perhaps sadly. I don’t actually remember how we managed to squeeze in an extra week’s time in the middle of a carefully planned itinerary but glad we did.

Always intrigued by traditions, especially those with food attached, I was excited to arrive days after thanksgiving, a celebration obviously not observed in Australia. After settling into our friend’s home and having watched the sun setting on the snowy landscape outside Sharon, our hostess, proceeded to the kitchen and began directing traffic to prepare dinner. Her husband was sent to the garage to retrieve the turkey, and ham. And her daughter and I commandeered to assist in the kitchen. Curious as I am in other people’s kitchens I was instructed to cut two types of cheese into small cubes, one cheddar and one a mozzarella style. ‘Wait what the?!’ I’ve never seen anything with cheese on a thanksgiving table in any of the hallmark festive movies I’d watched. But chop I did, then was handed more ingredients with further instructions slowly building a salad I was becoming excited to eat.

Bringing everything to a heaving table everyone was called to dinner.  In the middle of the table was warmed turkey, gravy and something reminiscent of stuffing called dressing consisting of torn bread, fruit and herbs, a dish I’d never heard of though possibly one of my favourite parts of the meal. A collection of vegetable dishes was also on offer alongside the fluffiest bread rolls I’d ever eaten. But something I was most keen for was the salad in which those cheese cubes were engulfed.

It felt odd to eat a salad in the depths of winter, as snow blew sideways across the windows and a fire warmed the house. Somewhat cautiously I served myself a scoop of salad and had a small taste. Bright fresh flavours floated on my palette, with little pops of sweetness from emerald, green baby peas, dotted with sharp savoury twangs of salad onion and the perfect foil of salty cheeses with a slight bite and chew all encased in a creamy dressing of mayo and sour cream. Every time I reminisce about this salad, I can almost vividly taste it in my memory. Obviously I went back for seconds and thirds, enjoying its vegetal lightness against the richness of the gravy gilded meat and warm roast vegetables.

So many of our memories are wrapped around food and indeed food and its flavours and aromas wrap inspire our memories. This recipe perhaps has it’s own memories attached to it for the family who first served it to my family and I. For me it’s one that always takes me back to that wintery stormy night, the laughter, the many conversations flying across a table oozing hospitality from relatively new friends across the miles and the delight of a collection of new flavours and food traditions.

While this is a dish that makes a wonderful side to a plethora of main courses one of my favourites is to offer it alongside lamb, leaning into the tradition of peas and mint accompanying the rich meat. It’s also lovely with fish but as always you do you and see what delicious combinations you come up with.

Ingredients:

2 ½ c frozen baby peas blanched** and well drained.

1 Tb Spanish onion very finely diced

60 gm sharp cheddar either crumbled into small pieces or diced into small cubes

60 gm baby bocconcini halved

2 Tb mint leaves finely chopped

2 Tb dill leaves finely chopped

25 ml mayonnaise or aioli (I use Kewpie)

15 ml sour cream

Method:

Whisk mayo and sour cream together with a pinch of salt and a few salt flakes, set aside. Combine all other ingredients and fold through dressing, serve immediately. You’re done, it’s really that simple. You could replace the sour cream with Greek yoghurt if you want to lighten the flavour but either are delicious.

**To blanch peas, if you’ve never done so before, bring a small-medium pot of salted water to the boil. Add peas to the boiling pot and bring back to the boil. Whilst waiting for the peas to resume boiling prepare a bowl of cold water with a few ice cubes added. As soon as the peas have resumed boiling remove from heat immediately and drain tipping the peas into the ice water. This will immediately arrest the cooking process and retain the emerald green colour.

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Finds and Forays

The weather has definitely shifted here. Perhaps that’s why salads are returning to mind. This one just popped up on Instagram (I’m convinced it reads our minds). I’m often stuck for salads with an Asian style and think this one could be a great fit for many uses.

With just hubs and I around these days there’s almost always bits and bobs of left overs and the like remaining. The glorious Alice Zaslevsky published this guide for freezing such little bits today which looks great. My additional tip is to keep a roll of masking tape and a sharpie in the kitchen drawer to help you. My poor hubby has taken so many tubs of leftovers to work for lunch convinced he could identify the contents. I’ll leave you to imagine some of those oopsies.

Finally, the spring weather we’ve enjoyed this last week has seemingly been a preview and winter is returning. Perfect baking weather, so I’m going to try this one, a squidgy delicous looking slice cake hybrid perfect with lots of cream I suspect.

Hope you enjoy your weekend plans,

Happy cooking friends,

S xx