Happiness is shelling peas

Freshly shelled peas

A friend recently asked me if there was any exciting produce at the farmer's market lately.

"Well," I told her, "besides all the baby squash, there is the matter of fresh peas."
"But it's such a pain to shell them." she said flatly.
And then there was an awkward pause.

I mean, I love shelling peas.
Love it.

And if you get yourself in a kind of zen mode you can stand there, staring out the window, shelling till your fingernails turn green, and when you finally snap out of it you've got a bowl full of peas and even perhaps some new realization about your life or the universe or your next door neighbour.

The shelling of peas requires the ability to space out, and that is something that I am entirely good at.

So yes, I went home with fresh peas while my friend did not. The requisite spacing out occurred as I shelled them and then it came time to eat them. I dwaddled around for about an hour doing other things, all the while trying to decide what exactly I wanted to do with them. This can sometimes take a while. I don't like to rushing into these things because I hate to be disappointed. So, I had a chit chat with my mom on the phone, threw some laundry in the dryer, flipped through a magazine until finally I had it.
Seared chicken breast with pesto and fresh peas-- completely inspired by the presence of peas on my counter and fresh basil pesto in my fridge.


Seared chicken breast with pesto and fresh peas


It's nothing fancy, but it sure made me happy. They say that basil is a mood lifter and I swear it's true. One bite of some fresh pesto and I make that Nigella face, the one that in some circles might be considered a bit over the top, maybe even obscene, especially when she adds the finger licking.
But I completely understand where she's coming from, because between the pesto and the peas I was pretty much on cloud nine.



*****************
How I made it

The peas were blanched in boiling water for a minute or two until desired tenderness, then drained and rinsed in cold water. The chicken was seared in a pan (with olive oil) and cut into strips/wedges when done. Combine the peas with the chicken in a bowl and toss with some fresh basil pesto-- as much or as little as your heart desires.
Easy peasy.
Pun intended.

*note, this recipe is especially easy if you happen to have pesto in your fridge. If not, you have no choice but to dig up your favourite recipe and get to it.


Variations:
This dish would also be good with some pasta shells in the mix.
Or try some crumbled feta on top.
It might even be great with a mint pesto, if you happen to like mint enough, which I do.