The Blessings of Black-Eyed Peas

The coming of the New Year on the homestead brings with it plenty of tradition.  There's the  year-end countdown enthusiastically performed by my son and I, the leftover 4th of July fireworks shot off by the neighbor at midnight, and then of course there's my annual New Year's resolution to learn how to hotwire a car. 

You heard me...I have my reasons.  But I have yet to accomplish it.  Mainly because I have yet to meet anyone who knows how to do it and is also willing to share their knowledge.   But I'm getting closer--I did get a recent tip from, of all folks, a policeman: avoid the yellow wire.  Odd, yet strangely intriguing.  Obviously, this saga will continue...

Setting my fifteen year quest to learn an illegal trade aside, I decided to concentrate on a task that is a bit more manageable--cooking.  And what better dish to cook than that well-loved Southern New Year tradition--black-eyed peas. 

Black-eyed peas, despite their name, are actually a bean.  But since peas and beans are both members of the legume family, we'll let that slide.  Black-eyed peas get their name from the black "eye" in the curve of the bean, which is the area where the bean was attached to its pod.  As with all members of the legume family, black-eyed peas are an excellent source of nutrients and are therefore highly nourishing, and the roots of the legume plants add much needed nitrogen to the soil.   They are a great addition to the garden and to our dinner plates--which probably explains why they've become a good luck charm to so many.

This "beneficial" legume is well-rooted in American culture, reaching as far back as 17th century colonial Virginia, and even ancient Babylon before that.  The "pea" has long symbolized health and good fortune, and is traditionally eaten on New Year's Day with the thought that consuming them will bring prosperity for the new year.  Far be it for me to disagree--I can use all the health, good fortune, and prosperity I can get!  So before we kicked off our year-end celebration, I did a little prep work in the kitchen.

I like to keep things simple, and, to me, the slow-cooker is the king of simple cooking.  I use it a lot--I like being in the presence of royalty. 

I was able to cultivate and dry a small crop of black-eyed peas over the summer, so those coupled with some of my onions, leeks, and garlic from the garden made up the bulk of my recipe.  Here's the ingredient list:

1 lb dried black-eyed peas
1/2 slab bacon
4 cloves garlic, crushed
1 leek, chopped
1 med onion, chopped
2T tomato jam (or sweetened tomato sauce)
1T beef  bouillon paste (or 3 cubes beef bouillon)
1t brown sugar

My first task was to soak the peas in hot water for about a half hour or so to soften them.  While I waited on the peas, I chopped the bacon into bite-sized pieces, and rough chopped the onion, leek, and garlic. 

When the peas softened and plumped up a bit, I dumped everything but the bacon in the slow cooker.  Gracefully, of course. 

Then the bacon was tossed on top so the juices would drip down and flavor the peas as much as possible.  The last thing to do was cover the peas with water, plop the lid on, and turn the cooker on low. 

I left it alone overnight, and eight hours later this is what I woke up to!  And what a way to wake up--the aroma permeated the entire house, wafted its way upstairs, and gently pulled me out of my dreams.  The combination of scents--mainly bacon, onions, and garlic--that swirled through the air was more than I could resist, and I rushed downstairs to dish up a bowl of peas for breakfast.  It's an incredibly nourishing way to begin the day, and ultimately the New Year. 

In reality, black-eyed peas are only a symbol of good luck.  The real blessing comes from using what we've been given, even something as simple as a pea, to enhance ourselves and others.  But it never hurts to have a little fun and embrace those positive vibes.  And there's certainly nothing negative about eating a hearty, healthy breakfast on the first day of the New Year.  Plus, it's tradition!  You can't argue with that. 

So here's to a year filled with all the good fortune, health, and happiness you can handle.  And when I finally achieve my resolution, I'll let you know...I'm sure I'll appreciate having visitors while I'm locked up.  Just kidding--as I once told my FBI agent pal, I promise to use my talents for good, not evil. 

But pray for me, just in case.  Happy New Year!