Our Lady of Peas

Last season, I read an article in Edible Memphis, a local foodie publication, about the elusive lady pea – a delicate, hard-to-find relative of the common black-eyed pea. It was late in the summer at the time, and any crop of lady peas that may have been available was likely long, long gone. So I waited a full year before I could put this bowl on my dinner table:

This steamy soup of Lady Peas with Pearled Barley, Carrots, and Onions may be one of the most pleasurable foods I've had the joy of eating. As promised in the original article touting lady peas, these lovelies were as dainty as could be.

If peas were people, Lady Pea would be decked out in a lacy Victorian gown and elbow-length white gloves while her dirty white trash cousin Black-Eyed Peas sips Papst in a trailer park. That's the best way I can describe the complete difference in texture and taste.

The lady peas are the small green (and some off-white) bits in this spoon. The white pieces are actually barley.

The best part? I bought a bag of lady peas at the Clarksville Farmers Market (while visiting my boyfriend's parents over the weekend) for $2! In Memphis, market vendors charge $6 a bag because they know people are willing to shell (no pun intended) out the big bucks for the fancy lady pea. And now that I've had a taste, I think I'd pay the $6 as well.