By June 2041. We moved to Las Cruces on the twentieth of June. The moving truck left Denver in the early morning and Lisa and I drove separately — she'd wanted the drive, the transition, the long highway through the mountains and the desert as a kind of ceremony. We stopped at Raton Pass where Colorado becomes New Mexico and she got out of the car and stood at the overlook and looked south at the land she was entering and I stood next to her and we didn't say anything for a while. Then she said: okay. Then we got back in the cars and drove south.
Papá and Mamá were at the house when we arrived. Papá had brought posole — a full pot, red, his recipe, which he'd started the night before. He set it on our stove before the moving truck was fully unloaded. I said: you didn't have to. He said: yes I did. It's your first night in a new house. You need posole. He was right. We ate posole on the living room floor with boxes stacked around us and Mamá pointing at where she thought the furniture should go and Papá eating two bowls and watching the room fill up with our things and becoming, slowly, ours.
Three blocks. That's how far it is from this kitchen to theirs. Three blocks I can walk in four minutes. After thirty-two years of living six hundred miles away, four minutes. I walked it that first night, alone, after Mamá and Papá had gone home. Walked their street, looked at their house with the lights on, thought about being nine years old in that house and all the versions of myself that lived between then and now. Thought about Ruben, who loved Las Cruces the way I love it. Thought: I'm here, finally. I'm here.
Papá didn’t make his posole from a recipe card — he made it from memory, the way you only can after decades of feeding people you love. I’ve been chasing that feeling ever since, and I keep landing on dishes like this one: Dad’s Creamed Peas & Pearl Onions, simple and soft and warm, the kind of thing that doesn’t announce itself but fills a room anyway. If you have a father three blocks away and a kitchen that’s finally yours, this is a good thing to make on a quiet night when you’re still catching up to where you are.
Dad’s Creamed Peas & Pearl Onions
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 30 minutes | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 2 cups frozen pearl onions
- 2 cups frozen green peas
- 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
- 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
- 1 cup whole milk
- 1/4 cup heavy cream
- 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
- 1/4 teaspoon white pepper
- Pinch of ground nutmeg
- 1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves (optional)
Instructions
- Cook the onions. Bring a medium saucepan of salted water to a boil. Add the frozen pearl onions and cook for 5—6 minutes, until just tender. Drain and set aside.
- Blanch the peas. In the same pot, return water to a boil and cook peas for 2 minutes. Drain and set aside with the onions.
- Build the roux. In a wide skillet over medium heat, melt the butter. Whisk in the flour and cook, stirring constantly, for about 1 minute until the mixture turns pale gold and smells nutty.
- Add the milk. Slowly pour in the whole milk, whisking continuously to prevent lumps. Add the heavy cream and continue to whisk until the sauce is smooth and beginning to thicken, about 3—4 minutes.
- Season the sauce. Stir in the salt, white pepper, and nutmeg. Taste and adjust seasoning. The sauce should coat the back of a spoon.
- Combine and heat through. Add the drained peas and pearl onions to the skillet. Stir gently to coat everything in the cream sauce. Cook over low heat for 2—3 minutes until warmed through. Scatter thyme leaves over the top if using.
- Serve. Transfer to a serving bowl and bring to the table warm. This dish holds well over very low heat for up to 15 minutes if needed.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 195 | Protein: 6g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 20g | Fiber: 4g | Sodium: 290mg