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.