The traditional New Year's fare is black eyed peas. Each year my mother would cook a tiny pot of black eyed peas, which were awful, and make my brother, sister, and me swallow one spoonful for good luck in the new year. Each year we spent New Year's Day suspiciously eying the little pot bubbling on the stove, hating the smell that issued forth in little bursts of steam, knowing that our punishment was soon to come. Worse yet was knowing that if we didn't eat the black eyed peas we would be doomed to a year of terrible luck. It was nearly as terrifying as the prospect of swallowing your gum.
As an adult, I've learned two things about this tradition:
1. There's a lot of people who have never heard of eating black eyed peas for luck. Do not try to find them at the Rat (our beloved refectory at Rhodes College).
2. Black eyes peas really aren't that bad... they're pretty good, in fact.
This year I decided to devote the whole meal to black eyed peas, rather than sticking them in a tiny pot and relegating them to a side dish. I saw about 2 minutes of The Chew on t.v. the other day, and they made Hoppin John. I immediately wanted to make it because it has a great name. A google search on Hopping John brought thousands of recipes to my fingertips. I picked the one that required dry beans, since I hadn't planned enough to soak them overnight. Plus, it had the word simple in the description, so I was sold. Check out the recipe.
The first great thing about this recipe is that I get to use my favorite pot, a Le Creuset dutch oven Annie and John Bentley gave us as a wedding present. This thing is so pretty I often leave it out just to pretty up the kitchen.
A look at the ingredients and things start to get interesting. I can choose to use either ham hock or bacon. My first instinct is ham hock, because it sounds authentic and Mike already ate bacon for breakfast. Then I asked the butcher what ham hock was. Apparent it is a pig's FOOT! Uck! No thanks. I'll go for the bacon.
I was really happy with this decision until I ran into Fran and Bob Johnson in the check out line. What did Frannie have in her cart? Black eyed peas and a ham hock! She said it was harmless and didn't have any toes on it, and I should try it next time. I took a peek... it was very scary looking, brown, and jointed. I'm glad I didn't have to touch it with my bare hands and put it in my pretty green pot!
Since Frannie is superstitious and was making her good luck meal, she decided to share something I didn't know. There's more than just black eyed peas to the New Year's Day superstition. You must eat cabbage if you want money. Well, hello?! Who doesn't want money? I had already checked out, but I made a quick call to Mike who stopped by Dillons and picked up some cabbage after a thorough briefing on what it was, what it looked like, and where he could find it.
Once home with all my ingredients, the recipe turned out pretty easy. Just fry up the bacon right in your pot.
Looking good already! While the bacon is frying, chop up everything else.
First a little sautee of the good stuff, then it eventually ends up all together simmering for an hour or so. The smell was amazing!
Meanwhile, this was happening in the living room.
Bonus: I got to use my second favorite pot, a former Christmas present from my brother PK, for the cabbage. I just chopped it up small, tossed it in with some water, and steamed the heck out of it on high for about 25 minutes.
Yes, the rice is boiling over in the background. It was hard to concentrate with Jack's cell phone ringing off the hook!
Finally, dinner was ready. It looked great, smelled great, and tasted great! Surprisingly, the cabbage was wonderful. Good thing, because I have another half sitting in the fridge.
Mike and I thought it could use a little more flavor. As usual, Mike requested that I add more bacon next time. Jack refused to try the Hoppin John and the cabbage. In fact, the only thing he liked was the milk.
We spent the entire meal coaxing him into his chair, barricading his way out of his chair, nagging him about sitting in his chair... I'm annoying myself just remembering it! Finally I let him sit on my lap, but that didn't work too well, either. Mike has resolved to buy a booster seat with a seat belt tomorrow. I do not predict a long and healthy 2012 for that seat belt.
As per our longstanding arrangement, the cook gets to rest while the other person cleans up the kitchen. Poor Mike had quite a mess on his hands.
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