canned peas, for some unknown reason i picked up a can a while ago. i was searching my cupboard for inspiration last night and came across this lowly can with a label of emerald green. i thought to myself: i love green peas; they would be good in a thai peanut sauce with zucchini and mushrooms over rice. my suspicions began after i opened the can (note: that is not an actual picture of my canned peas, but an exact likeness). the little balls of protein waiting patiently in that tin were not of fresh emerald, but sickly yellow-green. i tried not to give this disappointing color much thought and continued to drain and rinse the peas. then the smell hit me. you know the one, every canned vegetable possesses this scent that is most akin to salad mix that has started to go and is all brown and slimy. again i gave the humble peas the benefit of the doubt. i heated up a pan on the stove and added the peas to warm up. at this point i was starting to lose my confidence in the green goodness. the peas seemed only to be getting soggy and gooshy in the pan. a taste was in order. and then the peas were in the garbage and i had decided i would never again waste my money on canned peas. the taste was completely offensive and the texture was worse. i realized the color of those canned peas was what is referred to as pea green, which has always confused me. delicious fresh green peas are the color of summer and grass and freshness. no, that color we call pea green should actually be called canned pea green. gross.
23 September 2008
a new name for the color of my favorite sweater
canned peas, for some unknown reason i picked up a can a while ago. i was searching my cupboard for inspiration last night and came across this lowly can with a label of emerald green. i thought to myself: i love green peas; they would be good in a thai peanut sauce with zucchini and mushrooms over rice. my suspicions began after i opened the can (note: that is not an actual picture of my canned peas, but an exact likeness). the little balls of protein waiting patiently in that tin were not of fresh emerald, but sickly yellow-green. i tried not to give this disappointing color much thought and continued to drain and rinse the peas. then the smell hit me. you know the one, every canned vegetable possesses this scent that is most akin to salad mix that has started to go and is all brown and slimy. again i gave the humble peas the benefit of the doubt. i heated up a pan on the stove and added the peas to warm up. at this point i was starting to lose my confidence in the green goodness. the peas seemed only to be getting soggy and gooshy in the pan. a taste was in order. and then the peas were in the garbage and i had decided i would never again waste my money on canned peas. the taste was completely offensive and the texture was worse. i realized the color of those canned peas was what is referred to as pea green, which has always confused me. delicious fresh green peas are the color of summer and grass and freshness. no, that color we call pea green should actually be called canned pea green. gross.
20 September 2008
lovitt restaurant
housed in a re-purposed old farmhouse in colville, wa, lovitt restaurant serves up some scrumptious vegan fare. the restaurant takes up the first floor of the house and the owners live out of the second floor. lovitt is not a vegan, or even vegetarian restaurant, but with a menu that utilizes fresh herbs from their own garden along with produce from local farmers, the chef is happy to accommodate a vegan appetite. upon my second visit, i was excited to see a vegan offering on that week's menu*. the atmosphere is elegant, but also casual and down to earth. they have outdoor seating available on the wrap-around porch that looks out onto the garden. after two visits, lovitt restaurant has become a favorite.* the haystack with pickled veggies and chickpeas on lentil "griddle cakes" topped with vegan pesto and fried chard, pictured above - delicious!
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