To quote a well-known advert for a certain shop which used to sell clothing but now seems to be a supermarket for posh people:
[cue 1970s lounge lizard soundtrack and sultry voiceover of the sort I can only manage when I’m still bleary and half asleep]
This is not just a pea. This is a mangetout pea.
I never used to bother growing mangetouts. They didn’t appeal to my ever-practical nature: you can’t freeze them, you see, or make them into pickles, or do anything really except eat them as fresh and crisp as possible. What use is that come the apocalypse?
Then a couple of years ago I was given a packet of the sumptuously-coloured ‘Shiraz’, a purple mangetout so beautiful it’s a shame to pick it. The flowers are even more lovely, like a bicoloured sweet pea in mauve and cerise.
I thought that was good: but then this year, not being organised enough to get hold of some more ‘Shiraz’, I grabbed a packet of the standard green mangetout.
Oh. My. Goodness. [read more…]
