The Best and the Greenest

If you had any questions about the effects on produce from the last three months of rain, a walk through the farmers market will remove them.

Even the sternest doubter--and pretty stern he must be, given the fact that iceberg lettuce was spotted at $2.50 a head in one local supermarket this weekend--would have to concede that things are tough in the vegetable world.

Where normally at this time of year you would find the stalls packed with a wide variety of spring fruits and vegetables, this year at even the best markets your choices are pretty limited. And much of what is there isn’t very good.

A lot of what you expect to find simply never got planted this year, or if it did get in the ground, it drowned. There isn’t much good lettuce of any kind and even herbs are fairly few and far between. Only the really careful farmers have either in good enough shape that you’d want to buy it.

And if you want to see why iceberg lettuce is so dear, take a look at the stall of a farmer who hasn’t taken the trouble to sort carefully. The heads are loose and the leaves are soft; the tips are burned and the bases look as if they’re just short of the compost heap.

“We have to throw out half of what we pick,” said one farmer. Such tales of woe are common. Ask the guys at the Seaside Banana Plantation, located just north of slide-plagued La Conchita, how they fared this winter and they’ll tell you they’re looking for investors.

The one bright spot in this stormy landscape seems to be the various early legumes--English peas, snow peas, sugar-snap peas and fava beans. Whether it’s just the contrast with the rest of the market or it’s actually been that great a year, the pods are smiling.

So at a farmers market last week, I picked a couple pounds of each and took them to lunch, where some friends and I sat and talked and munched raw peas.

Though sugar snaps are a modern refinement of the snow pea, I find they’re closer in flavor and texture to the English peas. In fact, they’re nearly identical to the eye--firm and smooth-hulled and a glowing green. A couple of times I had to actually bite into the pod to tell which was which. Sugar snaps, of course, are the ones you bite into and smile--they’re so juicy and intense they’re almost more like a summer fruit than a spring vegetable.

English peas you bite into and spit; the hull is hard and fibrous. But when you shuck a recently picked English pea and pop it into your mouth it almost explodes with sweetness. Eat it soon, though; the sugar turns to starch so quickly that within a day you won’t recognize it. Sugar snaps seem to keep their sweetness longer.

Fava beans, on the other hand, taste definitely vegetal--but in a nice, earthy, green kind of way. Sort carefully, keeping only the firm, glossy beans no bigger around than your little finger and you can eat them raw, though that’s an acquired taste. In Rome, it’s traditional to eat them this way, served with a bit of salty Pecorino Romano. But we’re not in Rome and I prefer them blanched and tossed with a little olive oil and garlic.

As far as I’m concerned, this is the only time to buy fresh favas. Wait much longer--when the beans get as big around as your pointer finger--and the thin, pellucid skin covering each pea turns tough. At that point, you’ve got to shell the beans, blanch the peas and squeeze them out of their skins one at a time. The shrinkage is amazing: Five pounds of whole beans and a couple of hours of sheer tedium will give you garnish for six.

And speaking of garnish, having gone head over heels for sugar snaps, I have a hard time taking snow peas seriously anymore--pretty as they are. When it comes to flavor, they come up short.

On the other hand, that’s not always such a bad thing. I took home what sugar snaps were left after lunch, intending to do a quick stir-fry with some Santa Barbara shrimp I’d also bought. I blanched both briefly, then sauteed them together in a little butter with some white wine and, of course, a touch of minced garlic.

It seemed a good idea at the time, but turned out to be one of those learning experiences that jump up and bite a cook from time to time. The peas were so crisp and so juicy and so sweet that they overpowered the shrimp. I would have been better off blanching both and serving them together in two separate bowls. Sugar snaps, I have decided, need to be cooked simply and served as a side dish. They do not play well with others.

I had better luck with the English peas I picked up the next day and turned into this spur-of-the-moment pasta dish. The key here is the way the chewy orecchiette hold the sweet, crunchy peas. In a pinch, shells will do, but I have yet to find one thick enough to give the same textural contrast.

ORECCHIETTE WITH PROSCIUTTO AND PEAS

1 (10-ounce) package orecchiette or medium shell pasta

2 tablespoons butter

1 clove garlic, minced

2 ounces prosciutto, thinly sliced and cut in thin strips

1/4 cup half and half

1 cup green peas, shelled

2 fresh sage leaves, cut in thin strips

3 tablespoons grated Parmigiano-Reggiano, plus more

In pot cook pasta in plenty of rapidly boiling, salted water.

While pasta is cooking, cook butter and garlic in saute pan over medium-low heat until garlic turns translucent, about 3 minutes. Add prosciutto and half and half. Continue cooking until sauce thickens slightly, about 2 to 3 minutes. Move saute pan to top of pasta pan to keep warm.

If using fresh peas, add to boiling water after pasta has cooked 5 minutes. If using frozen peas, add at last minute.

Drain pasta and peas and add to saute pan with garlic cream. Add sage and Parmigiano-Reggiano and toss well to coat. If mixture is too thick, add some hot water from pasta pot, no more than 1 tablespoon at time. Sprinkle with more Parmigiano-Reggiano to taste and serve.

Makes 4 servings

Each serving contains about:

406 calories; 335 mg sodium; 32 mg cholesterol; 11 grams fat; 60 grams carbohydrates; 16 grams protein; 1.04 grams fiber.