SUGAR SNAP PEA SALAD
I admit that I’m hard on sugar snap peas. I get disappointed when they suck, of course, but I also get grumpy when they’re anything less than perfect – unblemished, super sweet, and not a bit starchy. That’s the curse of keeping high standards, I suppose: you’re so rarely satisfied. When at last I do find perfect sugar snap peas, I make this salad. I leave them raw – only the finest snap peas can be this delightful without a dunk in boiling water – and accentuate their flavour with little more than a lemony dressing and mint. If you’d like, you could add some creamy goat’s cheese in dollops or good old burrata alongside.
serves 4 as a side
450g sugar snap peas, trimmed and strings removed (see note)
A five-finger pinch of mint leaves, roughly chopped at the last minute
55ml Simple Lemon Dressing (here)
Maldon or another flaky sea salt
Lemon juice
A large handful of delicate, peppery rocket
So long as you find the right sugar snap peas, you’ll have a smashing salad. But I find that putting your knife to them adds even more excitement, a little textural variation and attractiveness. Accordingly, run the tip of your knife along the spine of some of the larger pods, open them like a book to expose the peas, and gently pull to separate the two sides of the pod. Slice others diagonally in half or thirds. Keep small ones whole.
Combine the peas and mint in a large bowl. Pour in the dressing and toss gently but well. Season to taste with more salt and lemon, if you’d like. Add the rocket to the bowl and toss gently to coat the leaves in the dressing without bruising them. Arrange it all prettily on a platter and serve straightaway.
PREPPING SUGAR SNAP PEAS
If you wish to remove the maximum string from your sugar snap peas, try this. With one hand, hold a pea so the concave side is facing you and the stem end is facing down. With the other, use a small, sharp knife to cut just below the very tip of the pea and pull towards you, removing the string in the process. Rotate the pea so the stem end is facing up and the concave side is facing away from you. Now cut just below the tip of the pea and pull towards you, removing the string along the spine of the pea. This goes quite quickly once you get the hang of it, and you never have to worry about a stringy bit mucking up a good bite.
BRAISED PEAS AND LITTLE GEM LETTUCE
To me, this dish, also known as petits pois à la française, is a classic because the whole is so much greater than the sum of its parts. The dish isn’t a vehicle for the peas or the braised lettuce to be the star; instead it’s all about the magic they create together. The lettuce heads become silky and meaty, the sweet peas pop in your mouth, and all that springtime flavour infuses the broth. This dish would be delightful with duck confit, roast duck, or grilled lamb alongside, though if you’re not in a meaty mood, stir in some cooked barley and you’ll have a hearty meal.
serves 6 as a side
3 heads Little Gem lettuce (about 450g), stems trimmed of brown but kept intact
55ml plus 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, plus a glug for finishing
6 medium spring garlic cloves or 3 medium garlic cloves, peeled and halved lengthwise
About 1 tablespoon Maldon or another flaky sea salt
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
450g young onions (see ‘Young Onions’, here) or Spanish onions, halved lengthwise and cut crosswise into 0.5cm-thick slices
110ml dry white wine, such as Sauvignon Blanc
300g shelled fresh peas (from about 900g of pods)
350ml Simple Chicken Stock (here)
A five-finger pinch of mint leaves, roughly chopped at the last minute
Remove and reserve the floppy outer leaves from the lettuce, discarding any blemished ones. Halve the heads lengthwise. Rinse, drain, and thinly slice the reserved outer leaves.
Heat 55ml of the olive oil in a wide heavy pot over medium-high heat until it shimmers. Add the garlic and cook, occasionally flipping and stirring the cloves, until they’re golden brown, 1 to 2 minutes. Use a slotted spoon to transfer the garlic to a small bowl.
Add the lettuce heads cut sides down to the pot (don’t be alarmed if they spit and pop a bit) and cook until golden brown, 1 to 2 minutes. Turn them over, add ½ teaspoon or so of salt, and cook just until they’ve gone translucent at the stem and wilted at the tips, about 3 minutes more. It’s OK if a few leaves fall off. Transfer the halved heads to a plate. Add the sliced lettuce, along with another ½ teaspoon or so of salt, to the pot and cook just until wilted and just about all the liquid in the pot has evaporated, about 2 minutes. Transfer to a medium bowl.
Give the pot a wipe, reduce the heat to medium-low, and add the remaining 2 tablespoons of oil and the butter. When the butter froths, add the onions and the cooked garlic along with 1 teaspoon of salt, have a stir, and cover the pot. Cook, stirring occasionally to make sure everything’s happy, until the onions are soft and creamy but not coloured, about 20 minutes. Increase the heat to high, pour in the wine, and boil until it’s nearly all evaporated, about 5 minutes.
Add the peas and return the cooked sliced lettuce to the pot, stir well, then return the lettuce head halves, cut sides up, to the pot along with the stock and 1 teaspoon of salt. Bring the stock to a boil, then reduce the heat to maintain a steady simmer, prodding the lettuce heads and peas a bit so they’re nearly submerged. Cook just until the peas are soft but still pop in your mouth and the flavours marry, about 15 minutes, depending on the size of the peas.
Add the mint and a healthy glug of olive oil and have a stir. Add salt to taste. I like to let it cool a bit before I dig in.
RAMPS WITH FRIED EGGS
As simple a dish as I can imagine, this heap of sweet, garlicky ramps, bright from lemon and chilli, is something I’d eat every day – if only those stubborn ramps didn’t have such a short season. Yet that’s part of their magic, isn’t it? You can’t always have them.
I like to eat the whole lot on toast. I like it with home fries. Sometimes I’ll fry up a few strips of bacon first, until they’re still a little bit floppy, then cook the ramps in the fat. The eggs make the dish all the more satisfying, though you can leave them out and serve the ramps as a side dish. Whether you use chicken or duck eggs, which are fattier and have a bit more character, make sure your oil is nice and hot so that when you crack in those eggs, the whites pop and spit and develop gorgeous crispy edges.
If you can’t find ramps, new season leaf garlic makes a good substitute.
serves 4 as a main
350g ramps, trimmed and separated into white bulbs, purple stems, and green leaves