“I love you once, I love you twice, I love you more than peas and rice”. These are words I cooed to my babies as I rocked them to sleep more than 40 years ago, and repeated often during their childhood. They may sound strange to a non-local, and that’s understandable for people who didn’t grow up eating Bequia green peas. Assuring my babies that I loved them more than peas and rice meant that I really REALLY loved them, because Bequians love their green peas BAD!
Pretty well every household had a pea patch when I first moved to Bequia. Shortly before Christmas the peas would be ready for harvesting, and the anticipation of eating the season’s first peas bordered on the comical; those who had managed to harvest before anyone else were very much envied, and the smell of peas being stewed had Bequians practically drooling for a taste. Christmas was not Christmas without stewed green peas, and everyone picked and shelled mounds of them in preparation. Ladies would gossip as they worked their way through heaps of the green pods, filling bowl after bowl with the glistening orbs. No-one went without; if a crop hadn’t ripened in time neighbours shared their bounty, and those who didn’t have land for planting their own peas were taken care of.
Mac’s mother taught me how to stew peas, and I make them often during the season. Momma sauteed plenty of chopped onions and garlic in coconut oil, then added the peas. For some reason she cooked this mixture without adding salt, she was adamant that the salt be added with the water. Once the peas had cooked in the oil for a while Momma poured enough water into the pot to cover them, adding salt to taste. The peas were then covered and left to simmer until all the water had been absorbed, at which time they were tested for softness. If they were tender enough she added a big dollop of the dreaded canned butter that for some reason enhanced the taste of the peas; I use real butter when I stew green peas because I’ve always hated the canned variety, but Momma’s peas always tasted better than mine so I guess the stuff has its uses!
The local peas are also used to make delicious rice & peas, a household staple that I make with coconut milk. Chicken, beef or mutton pelau are popular West Indian meals, and the addition of fresh green peas makes the pot even sweeter! Thick pea soup is another huge treat during the season, and a great way to use the Christmas ham bone. Some people say that canned pigeon peas are just as good as fresh peas and they are sorely mistaken; I’ll eat the canned variety when peas aren’t in season but, like pretty well any food, fresh ones are far superior.
Green peas used to grow in abundance on Bequia and are now quite hard to come by. I don’t know whether it’s because buying canned peas is easier than growing them, or because island developments have taken up land that used to be cultivated. This past Christmas, vendors on the mainland wanted a whopping $20 for a pound of green peas, lowering the cost to a still pricey $15 after the holidays. I have become a pea hoarder; I buy several bags before the season ends and keep them in my freezer, thus ensuring I have a few pounds to cook come Christmas. Fresh peas are preferable of course, but frozen are better than canned and I would hate to be caught pea-less!
Christmas just isn’t Christmas without stewed green peas….
The joys of cooking and eating seasonal food!
Is this guy Jeff of the boat Friendship from PSV?
I don’t know the name of the boat Jeff was on – he was around Bequia many years ago and enjoys reading the stories…
Getting Hungry!
When I was younger, my grandmother had a plot of pigeon pease she grew behind the house near Friendship Bay. I loved her pigeon peas. I have tried recreating my grandmother’s (Celina Ollivierre) recipe for pigeon pea soup, but it’s not quite the same. Do you know Mac’s mother’s recipe, and would you be willing to share it?
FYI: Mac and my mother are related.