omorka: (Element Pentacle)
[personal profile] omorka
And good-bye to the Zilches. *gives them a chin-flick*

---

Below, my annual prosperity spell, aka Hoppin' John:



1 lb. dried black-eyed peas, purple-hull peas, or crowder peas (this is about 2 1/2 cups if you bought them in bulk and don't have a scale)

Either soak these in plenty of water overnight or put them in a pot with enough water to cover them and then twice as much water again and bring them to a boil, remove from the heat, and soak for 1 hour. (I used to be a devotee of the overnight soak, but I've been forgetting a lot lately and the hot water soak seems to work just as well.) Either way, drain them thoroughly and rinse with fresh water; rinse out the pot and return the peas to it.

8 cups vegetable or chicken broth
2 or 3 ham hocks (or the bone from a half ham, with some meat still on it)
1 large bay leaf
Thyme or summer savory to taste

Add the ham hocks to the pot; nestle them amongst the peas. Pour over the broth; add the bay leaf and the thyme or savory (whichever you have on hand and/or like better). Raise heat to high. Add water to stand about and inch and half above the surface of the peas. Stir three times deosil, envisioning greater prosperity in the coming year. Let come to a rolling boil, then lower heat to medium and let simmer for an hour.

1 lb sausage (andouille is great if you have it, but kielbasa works just fine, too)
1 medium onion, chopped
2 ribs celery with the leaves, chopped
2-3 cloves garlic, minced
salt and pepper to taste

Cut the sausage into 1/2" thick disks. Saute the sausage, onion, and celery together in a skillet over medium-high heat until the onion is transparent; add garlic and pan-fry for another minute. Remove the ham hocks or ham bone from the peas and set aside. Pour off any excess grease; add the sausage mix to the pea pot. Add salt and pepper to taste. (This is the right place to start the collards, if you're making them.) Stir and visualize again. Simmer 45 minutes.

1 can diced tomatoes (if you're making this in the summer, you can substitute 2 fresh medium tomatoes, peeled and diced, but really, how likely is that?)
A couple of drops of Tabasco or your favorite hot pepper sauce (optional)

Remove any bits of meat and marrow from the ham hocks or ham bone and add back to the peas. (If you have any extra ham you want to toss in, this is a good place. Also, start some rice in your rice cooker or a pot on a back burner about now.) Dump in the entire contents of the can of tomatoes, juice and all. Add the Tabsaco, if desired. Taste the contents of the pot and add salt, pepper, another drop or two of Tabasco, and/or a few drops of lemon juice *if needed*. Stir and visualize a third time. Let simmer 30 minutes or until the rice is ready.

You can eat this alone as a soup, or with cornbread, but the grand traditional way is to put a scoop of steamed white rice in the bottom of a big 'ol bowl, add a spoonful of collards, and pour a ladle-full of hoppin' john over the top.

===

Variations:

(1) Crock-pot variant: Soak the peas the night before. In the morning, saute the sausage, onion, celery, and garlic, and add to the crock with the peas, hocks, bay leaf, & thyme. Add 2 t of your favorite instant chicken bouillon granules or the equivalent, and add 6 cups of water (plus a bit more if that doesn't cover everything; the water should stand over everything else, but not by more than an inch). Cook on LOW for eight hours. Add the tomatoes, Tabasco (if desired) salt, and pepper as soon as you get home, put the lid back on, and let it simmer for an hour more while you make the rice and collards.

(2) Vegetarian variant: Omit the ham hocks and the sausage; use 2 bay leaves. Use all vegetable broth instead of water (you'll need the extra flavor to make up for the missing flavor from the hocks). Saute the onion, celery, and garlic in 2 T light olive oil. You'll probably want to salt with a slightly heavier hand, since the hocks and the sausage also both contribute a non-trivial amount of salt. Serve over a flavorful rice (like jasmine, basmati, texmati, or popcorn rice).


Edited because you'd think I'd know that cutting and pasting straight out of AppleWorks screws up the formatting by now, wouldn't you? Apparently I was more tired than I thought.

Date: 2010-01-01 03:34 pm (UTC)
ext_67746: (Default)
From: [identity profile] laughingrat.livejournal.com
*grin* What, it's not soup?

*snicker*

For some reason I'm remembering that a few variants I've made had the rice all up in them, too. Either way, this dish is delicious.

Date: 2010-01-01 03:52 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] princejvstin.livejournal.com
I've heard about this peas on New Year's thing. I don't understand it but I've come across it a couple of places now.

Date: 2010-01-01 10:50 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] omorka.livejournal.com
Depends on how much broth you add. Properly done, it's about the consistency of chili. :-)

Date: 2010-01-01 11:00 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] omorka.livejournal.com
Not just any peas, my Yankee friend - Black-Eyed Peas.

Back in the long ago and far away, so the story goes, when the Union army marched through the South, they took for their own provisions the crops and harvests they came upon - potatoes, wheat, beans, cabbages. But they passed up the black-eyed peas, which they called "cowpeas" and thought of as animal feed, and the collard greens, which they thought were weeds. And so many a dirt-poor farmer survived on those two until their kitchen gardens grew back.

From a kitchen-witchy perspective, the black-eyes stand for coins, the greens (you can use anything green and leafy, really - spinach, chard, kale, or even green cabbage) stand for bills, and the pork is for richness in a general sense. And you eat them on New Year's to infuse the entire coming year with them. The coins and bills, I mean, not the hoppin' john, although I eat it year-round, too.

Date: 2010-01-01 11:52 pm (UTC)
ext_67746: (Default)
From: [identity profile] laughingrat.livejournal.com
But certainly not like that stuff from YumSugar!

Mmm, Hoppin' John. I just had pork chop and sauerkraut, nom nom.

Oh! Re: your food history below, I think the peas were brought over from Africa, too--that's one thought anyhow. We don't really know, I spose.

I just realized I'm out of cocoa. Alas.
Edited Date: 2010-01-01 11:55 pm (UTC)

Date: 2010-01-02 04:38 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] omorka.livejournal.com
Out of cocoa? Horrors!

Yeah, they probably were, but that's not why they're "good luck" - if they were, then goober peas and okra would share the same reputation. Although it might explain why hoodoo workers were fond of them in the first place.

Date: 2010-01-02 04:43 am (UTC)
ext_67746: (Default)
From: [identity profile] laughingrat.livejournal.com
Oh, I see what you mean. Right on!

Yeah, when you actually use actual cocoa in actual hot cocoa, it's amazing how fast it (actually) goes. Tasty, though.

Date: 2010-01-02 11:24 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] awbryan.livejournal.com
I always wondered what "cowpeas" were...

Why a prosperity spell? It was always considered a more general luck spell around my house. (Not that the word 'spell' was used, mind you, but that's what they meant even if they didn't say it.)

Date: 2010-01-03 12:28 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] omorka.livejournal.com
Possibly some confusion between different shades of meaning of the word "fortune"? The symbolism has always been explained to me as coins and bills, which would be pretty clearly money.

Profile

omorka: (Default)
omorka

July 2019

S M T W T F S
 1234 56
78910111213
14151617 1819 20
212223242526 27
28293031   

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jan. 31st, 2026 07:46 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios