Perry's Prattle 11-7-7

Readers of this column know that our son, Grant, second in the sequence of four boys, has made his home in Houston, Texas, since being discharged from the Air Force 25 years ago.

Hester and I have made numerous trips to Texas down through the years to visit Grant, Lynn, and the two sweetheart grandchildren, Mac and Virginia. It seems on each visit, I find something to read in the Houston newspaper which really intrigues me.

On our last visit with our children, which was in late May of this year, the article in the paper which caught my eye was one on peas, pea shelling, seasoning peas for cooking, and other items of food which go along with those peas placed on the dinner table.

Leon Hale is the columnist who wrote the feature article for the Houston Chronicle on the lowly subject of peas.

The first variety of peas mentioned by Leon was "purple hulls." He went on to list "black eyes" and "the creams." I am familiar with all of them plus others. The "the creams" include what we know locally as "zipper creams" and "cream 40s."

Before the summer ended, this writer visited the Fussell Farm on Gainer Road more than one time and had opportunity to see "the creams" variety being harvested by the hundreds of bags and brought into the sale barn. Many of the peas were shelled by mechanized peas shellers. However, they were offered for sale by the bag with the consumer doing his own shelling the old-fashioned way.

As fall was approaching, the "prattler" had opportunity to observe a "patch" of beautiful peas growing on the farm of Ronnie and Sue Wright located on Sewell Farm Road.

Ronnie did not label his crop by name, but they appeared to be what we called, back on our farm, as "white acre," "lady fingers" or "tater vine" peas. The fully matured peas were almost white and stood straight up, making them easy to pick.

Yes, I did give out a strong hint for a "mess" of Ronnie's peas and he was nice enough to bring an ample supply for Hester and me. I had the privilege to shell the peas all by myself, which made them even more enjoyable.

The Texas journalist wrote extensively on the art and fun of pea shelling. He made the observation that it was relaxing for him to get involved in shelling peas, stating he could watch three or four innings of a ball game on the TV while engaged in the process.

Leon Hale's article went on to describe the pea shelling venture that I relate to when he states, "shelling a mess of peas always makes me feel close to members of my family who have passed on, because in my early times of this season of the year, we'd all sit together on the back porch after supper and shell a bushel of black eyes."

His writing became even more familiar when he mentioned "even neighbors who happened to be visiting would grab a pot and a double handful of peas. We'd sit around shelling and talking like a bunch of women in a sewing circle." Sue Pitts Wright told me of her experience of shelling peas, in a community setting, out under an oak tree.

This brought back fond memories to me. At our home, we shelled our peas on the front porch and the walking "passersby" often dropped off for a drink of cool, fresh water from an open well and would assist by shelling a few peas out of our pans while they visited and cooled.

On one such occasion, it was our Aunt Naomi Harris and her young son, Herschel, who stopped by for such a visit. Herschel had just picked up a hard shelled turtle off the road and was getting acquainted with his new-found friend by dragging his finger across the mouth of the animal. Despite warnings from his mother that the turtle would grab his finger without notice and would not turn loose until it thundered, the daring son kept inviting the turtle to bite him.

In a few minutes, he sadly looked up at his mother with the comment, "he's got me!" Sure enough, the tortoise was latched onto the lad's finger. Luckily, with a little coaxing, he released his hold without waiting for thunder.

Hale also commented on the term "mess" of anything to eat. He concluded that a "mess" is merely "enough to feed the number of mouths you've got to feed, whether it be peas, turnip greens or fish."

For seasoning peas for cooking, Leon Hale mentioned dicing onions in the "purple hulls," along with the ham hock. When eating peas, Hale's comical comment was, "you must have a skillet of cornbread," adding "state law requires it when you're eating purple hulls or black eyes in Texas."

The Texan recommends something called "chow chow" as going well with peas. He describes it as a relish which can be found in supermarkets.

While in the lighter vein of his article on peas, Leon Hale writes, "If you intend to have cowpeas the way God and Franklin D. Roosevelt intended, you don't fix meat. Just peas and cornbread, and from that combination you make a three-course meal as follows: First course, a bowl of peas and a slice of cornbread with butter. Second course, another bowl of peas with cornbread, but stir in a heaping teaspoon of chow chow, a different flavor altogether. Then, the Third course, another bowl of peas and chow chow with the cornbread crumbled and stirred in. That's dessert."

My guess is that Leon Hale has first-hand experience in pea shelling and cooking. His article included the fact that once the peas are shelled, the residue becomes a "hull" instead of a "shell." I, too, have wondered about that terminology.

We did not have the chow chow at our dinner table to go along with fresh peas and our cornbread was a "pone" as only my mother, Marie Harris Wells, could make. Our supporting menu, in addition to the "pone" bread was a generous amount of fried okra, cream style fresh corn, tender butter beans, sliced tomatoes, homemade sweet pickles, and some fresh hot pepper just picked from the garden. The meal was topped off with a glass of cold, refreshing iced tea.

My thanks to the Texas writer for motivating my mind to write on the subject of peas. That is one commodity which is close to my heart.

If ever an item on the table in the Wells' household could be labeled as a "staple" it would definitely be peas, peas and more peas, whatever the variety might be called.

See you-all next week.