Chickpea Potpies

The last week of 2020, which was a year I will spend a long time understanding and which had contained: a pandemic, a lockdown, DeAndre's death, George Floyd and the summer of protests, an election, my best academic year yet, and a grief I was still carrying in a different posture than I had carried it in June. The year had required everything of me. I had given it everything.

I made the New Year's black-eyed peas on December 31st — my third consecutive year, now fully a tradition. The peas soaking overnight, the ham hock in the pot from early morning, the house filling up by noon with the smell that meant luck and continuation. MawMaw came for New Year's Eve and we ate at midnight in her house — three generations of Robinsons who had made it through the year together.

Before we ate, MawMaw held my hand across the table and said something I will not fully transcribe because some things are private. What I will say is that she told me she was proud of me in the specific way that she is proud of me: not for the grades or the publications or the test scores, but for the person I was becoming, for the way I was carrying what she had given me, for the choices I made when things were hard. She said those were the things that mattered and she could see them in me.

2021 was twelve hours away. Junior year second semester. College applications beginning in earnest. The essay collection waiting. Whatever else was coming. I was going to be ready for it the same way I had been ready for everything: by working toward it, by staying in the kitchen, by keeping the traditions and making them better, by writing down the things that mattered so they would not be lost. That is what I do. That is who I am. I am going to keep being her.

MawMaw’s black-eyed peas will always belong to midnight on New Year’s Eve — to that specific pot, that specific table, that specific hand holding mine. But when I want to carry that same feeling of luck and continuation into any ordinary evening, I come back to chickpeas: the same humble legume energy, the same long simmer, the same promise that something nourishing is coming. This chickpea potpie is what staying in the kitchen looks like on the other 364 days of the year — the kind of recipe that asks you to keep showing up, and rewards you every time you do.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 35 minutes | Total Time: 55 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

2 cans (15 oz each) chickpeas, drained and rinsed
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 medium yellow onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 medium carrots, peeled and diced
2 celery stalks, diced
1/3 cup all-purpose flour
2 cups low-sodium vegetable broth
3/4 cup whole milk
1 cup frozen peas
1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves (or 1/2 teaspoon dried)
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
Salt and black pepper to taste
1 sheet frozen puff pastry, thawed
1 egg, beaten (for egg wash)

Instructions

Preheat oven. Heat oven to 400°F. Lightly grease six individual ramekins or a 9-inch deep-dish pie pan and set aside on a baking sheet.
Build the base. Melt butter in a large skillet over medium heat. Add onion, carrots, and celery and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 6–8 minutes. Add garlic and thyme and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
Make the filling. Sprinkle flour over the vegetables and stir to coat evenly. Cook 2 minutes to remove the raw flour taste. Slowly pour in vegetable broth while stirring constantly, then add milk. Bring to a gentle simmer and cook until the mixture thickens, about 4–5 minutes.
Add the chickpeas. Stir in chickpeas, frozen peas, and smoked paprika. Season generously with salt and pepper. Remove from heat.
Fill the dishes. Ladle the filling evenly into prepared ramekins or pie pan, leaving about 1/2 inch at the top.
Top with pastry. On a lightly floured surface, cut puff pastry into rounds or squares large enough to drape over each ramekin (or lay the whole sheet over the pie pan). Press edges to seal, cut a small vent in the center of each, and brush with beaten egg.
Bake. Bake 20–25 minutes until pastry is deep golden brown and filling is bubbling at the edges. Let rest 5 minutes before serving.

Nutrition (per serving)

Chickpea Potpies — The Tradition of Staying in the Kitchen