What is more enjoyable then a comforting bowl of pea soup on a rainy day? Well, perhaps you can think of a few things that are just as enjoyable. Still, my mind keeps drifting back to the fresh smell of rain and the warming, earthy soup. For me, this soup is more than just a kind of warm liquidated pea, but rather a string of memories and the search for the perfect pea soup. When I was a little kid, I remember reading a book in which an owl enjoyed a dinner of buttered toast and pea soup while it snowed outside. Perhaps this is the reason I've always found pea soup comforting.
The summer after forth grade, my father got a temporary job in Umea, Sweden, and we found ourselves living there for nine weeks. While there, my mother, a librarian, got in contact with the local university library. While she learned about how their library worked, she also learned about “key” parts of Swedish culture. One of these cultural gems she stumbled upon was that a traditional Thursday night dinner was pea soup and pancakes, perhaps with ice cream. This seemed such a bizarre and fun dinner to us, so of course we had to try it. And it was great. The pea soup was lovely in this mostly-cloudy-often-rainy part of Northern Sweden.
Since we've gotten back, we have tried to replicate this lovely meal with varying degrees of success (one obstacle being that my father is not a big fan of soup or pancakes). I was perturbed in particular with the fact that canned soup companies insisted on putting ham in most of their pea soups. In my mind, this was an utter atrocity. The ham gave the soup a smoky, unwanted flavor – at least it was completely unwanted to me. The search for a satisfactory pea soup, not too sweet, not too creamy, and with no traces of ham, continued.
Last December I began to volunteer at Global Village Gifts. In the store we have a little section of dried food, made by the Women's Bean Project, including items such as snicker doodle cookie mix and (you guessed it) soup mixes. I had seen them before, but never really considered trying them myself. One of my first days volunteering, though, someone came in and bought some of the soup mixes. They told me that they had had some at home, but there dog had somehow opened the packages and eaten them (as so many dogs seem to have quite a talent for), and they were in need of more. This story, although not unusual, was enough to attract my attention. When I was next in Global Village Gifts with my mom, I pointed them out to her, and we made the purchase.
At home, we poured the packet of beans into a pot, mixing in the thises and thats the recipe asked for. And at dinner I was astounded by the Sarah's Spicy Split Pea Soup. It was just the right amount of chunky. The taste of curry brought in some excitement. And, most importantly, it did not have a hint of ham. It was good!
If you don't like pea soup, that's okay. If you don't like curry, that's okay. It's even okay if you like ham in you pea soup. It's okay because Global Village Gifts sells other varieties of soup mixes, and also a few other mixes such as snicker doodle cookie mix (I can't wait to try that one.) And while you are making these delicious foods, you can think about how you are helping women ready and improve themselves for future careers, and breaking the cycle of poverty by doing so. The Women's Bean Project said on their website that they make delicious food items, “But the Women's Bean Project does not hire women to make and sell bean products. We make and sell bean products to hire women.”
Hip hip hurray for them!
http://www.womensbeanproject.com/whatwedo.html
http://www.womensbeanproject.com/whatwedo.html
