Spring Pea and Asparagus Pasta

The garden is in full swing. Everything planted, everything growing, the rows neat and green and optimistic in a way that dirt rows have no right to be. The peas are climbing. The lettuce is harvestable. The tomato plants are knee-high and flowering. Helen's basil is fragrant on the windowsill, waiting for its moment. The garden doesn't know about patience. It just grows. I could learn something.

I made pasta with the first of the garden peas. Fresh peas, shelled on the porch — there's a meditation in shelling peas, the repetitive pop of the pod, the tumble of green spheres into the bowl, the sweet grassy smell. You blanch them for sixty seconds, toss them with pasta, good olive oil, garlic that's been gently cooked until it's golden, a handful of parmesan, and a squeeze of lemon. That's dinner. That's May. Fresh and bright and simple and entirely dependent on the peas being picked that day, because yesterday's pea is not today's pea and tomorrow's pea is somebody else's problem.

Helen retired. Fully. Her last shift at the hospital was Friday. She came home and took off her name badge and set it on the kitchen counter and looked at it for a moment and then looked at me and said, "Well. That's that." Forty-one years of nursing. Forty-one years of night shifts and emergency rooms and holding people's hands while doctors did the things doctors do. Forty-one years of coming home tired and making dinner anyway. She is the strongest person I have ever known, and I have known people who were tested in ways that most civilians can't imagine, and Helen is still the strongest.

I opened a bottle of wine. We don't drink often — a glass at Thanksgiving, a glass at Christmas, the occasional glass when something happens that requires marking. This was a marking occasion. We sat on the porch with our wine and watched the evening come and Frost lay between our chairs and the garden was green and the sky was pink and Helen said, "What do retired people do?" and I said, "I've been trying to figure that out for two years. I'll let you know." She laughed. It was the best sound.

She'll find her rhythm. I found mine — the blog, the kitchen, the garden, the routine of days that don't have to be anything but days. She'll find hers. She's already talking about expanding the flower beds. She's already talking about a pottery class. She's Helen. She'll fill the time with things that matter. She always has.

The peas were sweet. The wine was good. The nurse is retired. The garden grows. On we go.

The pasta I made that night — simple as it was — felt like exactly the right meal for the occasion: fresh, unhurried, and made from something we grew ourselves. This Spring Pea and Asparagus Pasta is the recipe behind that bowl. It asks very little of you and gives back everything the season has to offer, which felt appropriate for a Friday evening when the most important thing on the agenda was sitting on the porch and watching Helen breathe for the first time in forty-one years.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 15 minutes | Total Time: 25 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

12 oz linguine or spaghetti
1 bunch asparagus (about 1 lb), woody ends trimmed, cut into 1-inch pieces
1 1/2 cups fresh or frozen peas
3 tablespoons good-quality olive oil
4 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan, plus more for serving
Zest and juice of 1 lemon
1/4 cup reserved pasta water
Salt and black pepper, to taste
Fresh basil or mint leaves, for garnish (optional)

Instructions

Cook the pasta. Bring a large pot of well-salted water to a boil. Cook pasta according to package directions until al dente. In the last 2 minutes of cooking, add the asparagus pieces to the pot. Reserve 1/4 cup of pasta water before draining.
Blanch the peas. If using fresh peas, add them to the boiling pasta water in the final 60 seconds of cooking alongside the asparagus. If using frozen peas, add them in the last 30 seconds. Drain pasta and vegetables together and set aside.
Cook the garlic. While the pasta cooks, heat olive oil in a large skillet over medium-low heat. Add sliced garlic and red pepper flakes. Cook gently, stirring occasionally, for 3–4 minutes until the garlic is soft and just golden. Do not let it brown.
Combine. Add the drained pasta, asparagus, and peas to the skillet. Pour in the reserved pasta water and toss everything together over medium heat for 1–2 minutes until the sauce coats the pasta.
Finish and season. Remove from heat. Add lemon zest, lemon juice, and Parmesan. Toss well to combine. Taste and adjust salt and pepper as needed.
Serve. Divide into bowls and top with additional Parmesan and fresh basil or mint if desired. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Spring Pea and Asparagus Pasta — The First Bowl of Helen’s Retirement