A couple of evenings ago while he was taking the trash can to the curb, Richard casually asked the neighbor across the street how his peas were coming along. Before he knew it, he was seated at the kitchen table with a serving of the famous peas in front of him. He agreed that the peas were exceptional once again this year, and then the two of them went back and forth about the peas and the weather and the peas and the rain. . . back and forth. Soon, his wife offered up her method of perparation (with bacon, mind you . . .not exactly bacon, but close enough for blogging), and all the while the two older teens grinned and chuckled at the scene playing out before them -- the one with their proud, demonstrative father and the animated, hungry American man from across the street.
Later during the week Richard stopped in a local pizzeria for a couple of to-go pizzas, one of which was a veggie pizza. He didn't pay much mind as the guy prepared the pizzas, so imagine our surprise to open the box at home and discover piselli!
This weekend the pea festival continues in our paese. Peas for lunch, peas for dinner . . . peas, peas, peas. (I don't even like them so much. . . .shhhh!!)
I've since seen visitor after visitor to the house across the street in search of their chance to taste the famous peas. He still has some for sale, should you be interested. In this part of town, all the folks are pazzi per i piselli. . . . crazy for peas.