A batch-cook recipe in anticipation of the first pea harvest

With my peas are finally in the ground, I cook a freezer-friendly pea and butterbean mash with salsa verde legumes to celebrate.

My peas are in the ground.

Finally. I usually sow them from March, directly where they will grow, being, as they are, reasonably tolerant of cold. But waterlogged soil they will not suffer, so the endless April rain prevented it. Instead, I sowed in modules in my shiny new greenhouse and now they are ready to plant out.

Peas are one of the defining features of a spring kitchen garden for me.

As I explain in the essay at the beginning of the pea chapter of my cookbook, From the Veg Patch:

Yesterday, while tucking wayward pea tendrils back into their netting, I noticed that some of the pea pods were plump, the peas within no longer clattering around their cavernous shells, but swelled and chubby, almost, almost bursting.

Today, I will eat them: the first peas of the year.

This is what I live for. I woke up early thinking about my peas and in the end succumbed to excitement and came down to see if they were ready. They are.

I pick a pod, open it up and eat the peas within.

It’s a profound moment, almost spiritual. I know that sounds crackpot, but it is, for me at least. A couple of months ago, there was nothing but a few seeds in my hand and a chill in the air. Today, I stand amongst a tangle of burgeoning green. The dew beads on my bare feet, the sun warm on my skin, the peas sweet in my mouth. I am part of nature. I am within it. There is abundance, birdsong, sunshine, summer in all her finery, and best of all the sweet, green taste of freshly picked peas. From nothing to everything in just a few weeks. It is truly remarkable…

… After the giddiness of the first dawn harvest, I settle into a routine of picking daily. This encourages new pods to form and is no chore. They must be eaten promptly too, before their sweetness wanes; again, no hardship. In fact, if they make it as far as the kitchen at all, it’s a surprise.

The result is that I could never hope to grow enough peas.

Certainly not for this butterbean and pea mash recipe below. And even if I could, I prefer to save fresh peas for a starring role that shows off their texture and sweetness, which is why you find them saved for the spotlight amongst the other legumes in this dish.

This pea mash is an endlessly useful mother recipe from which I begin all sorts of dishes. Make a big batch in the food processor then freeze in portions to whip out and augment as needed.

For example:

• Soup: loosen with stock, perhaps a dash of cream, to make a soup. You might add flakes of ham hock too if you have them.

• Mash: serve with fish. It’s just posh mushy peas.

• Sandwiches: brilliant slathered between fat toasted sourdough slices or a bagel with sun-dried tomatoes and fried halloumi.

• Brunch: serve on a English muffin or toast with a poached egg.

• Crudites: stir through a handful of chopped herbs and serve with batons of raw veg for a colourful snack.

But first, try this:

Pea mash and salsa verde greens

The quantities below make more mash than you need, so tub half of it and freeze for next time. You can, of course, use whatever greens you have available, but I recommend something sweet and crunchy to contrast with the soft, savoury mash and the sour dressing. The pickled radishes are entirely optional, but add some colour and kick.

Serves 4

• 80g sugar snaps

• 80g mangetout