So, not to rub it in for anyone that didn’t experience the same, but we had an amazing weekend here in the northeast! I had a feeling that the sunshower I was caught in while walking back from town on Friday might be a harbinger of amazingness, and I was right. The weather was gorgeous, with just the right amount of heat. I rode my bike a ton. I took care of some sweet kitties (my talented friend Aaron’s picture, not mine). I finished planting my garden (which now contains a somewhat bizarre hack-job teepee trellis made from fishing line and a big stick). I resoled a pair of shoes. (That might sound impressive, but if you watched me removing the soles from my destroyed shoes with a box cutter that occasionally came way too close to my body, the only thing you’d be impressed by is my stupidity!) And I re-watched all four Alien movies. (I’m going to resist the urge to launch into a detailed analysis/criticism of each one. [You’re welcome.] I’ll just say that if you ever want to try out a recipe for very screwy dreams, watch Aliens and Alien 3 in the same night, then go to sleep in a room filled with shoe cement fumes.)
But really, it was the little things that made this weekend especially great. Things like the strawberry rhubarb juice I got at the farmers’ market and practically inhaled because it was so good, and the chocolate chip espresso angel food cake that I bought a quarter of once I managed to stop drooling. But the most exciting thing of all was the appearance of my most favorite spring vegetable of all . . .
. . . the sugar snap pea! And one of my favorite farms had two giant bins of them. I heaped over a pound of them into a bag, and I barely made a dent in the pile. It seemed I was amongst good company there at 9:00 a.m., too, since everyone else was doing the same.
I’ve had one problem with sugar snap peas since childhood, however: I cannot stop eating them. My mother and I would do farmers’ market hopping in the Schoharie Valley, and I’d spend the ride back devouring peas and tossing the ends out the window, until I was so full I felt sick. I tried to resist the urge on Saturday, but then I told myself I’d just try one, to make sure they were good. That one turned into about three dozen.
So on Sunday, I decided I needed to find a respectable way to eat these things. I started thinking about carrots and snap peas together, which led me to a meal I hadn’t thought about in ages. Back in 2004, when I first started working at my “grown-up” job, my manager at the time took my coworker and I out to lunch at a Middle Eastern restaurant. I was very excited (I think I might have even been the one that suggested the restaurant, assuming that my Syrian roots would incline me to like anything and everything they had to offer). But between the menu and the giant rotating hunk of meat, it quickly became apparent to me that a vegetarian onion-hater like myself was going to have a tough time finding a meal that I didn’t need to obsessively pick through like a child. So I took a risk and ordered a carrot salad. When it arrived, I mentally recoiled in horror (at that time, I also hated mayonnaise, and anything that resembled it). But I decided to be a big girl and eat it. And wouldn’t you know it, I liked it. I later figured out that it was carrots, Greek yogurt, and mint. So good.
And that is the inspiration for this wrap, with the addition of snap peas and garlic scapes. It’s a wonderful mix of flavors and textures — crunchy, tangy, sweet, minty, and spicy. Very fresh, very spring, and very good.
Carrot, Snap Pea, & Yogurt Wrap
yield: 1 wrap
- 1 medium carrot, peeled and grated
- around 1 dozen snap peas, trimmed and chopped into half-inch pieces
- 3 mint leaves, minced
- 1–2 garlic scapes, minced
- 2 tbsp of plain Greek yogurt
- salt and pepper, to taste
- 1 medium or large wrap
Mix all of your ingredients together in a bowl, then fill your wrap and roll! So very simple. :)
(Also, can I just say that I have respect for anyone that can take decent photographs of anything with a yogurt/mayo/sour cream base? I couldn’t bear to look at half the pictures I shot — whenever I did, I could practically hear that squishy sound of macaroni salad being stirred. Yuck!)