At night, we bundle up and go down to the cellar. We decided to get hardcore about seed-starting this year and bought grow-lights. In the past, I’ve started seeds on windowsills, which works, sure, but the seedlings end up a bit leggy, and real estate is limited. Now, improbably, our windowless, 52-degree cellar is the home of seed-starting operations, spread across a big table with lights that shine 16 hours a day. We put on music, drink steaming tea, and get lost in the rhythm of poking holes, dropping in seeds, covering them up, watering them. All at 9 or 10 PM. It’s a little counterintuitive, and lends a certain drama to the work, like we’re growing something illicit in our basement.
It’s that silly time of year where we’re all pretty done with winter, but there’s still an interminable stretch until it’s honest-to-goodness spring. Even winter itself seems wan and ready to be put to bed, allowing some warming sun to poke through. On one or two afternoons, we’ve been able to move the garden prep outside for a few hours. But the nights still get very, very cold. The dirt still has a hard, frozen crust on its surface. I am still eating pantry-staple legumes. It is definitely not yet spring. 
When spring does roll around, it will be my third here in this space. As of last month, that little archive page over there started showing three calendar years of posts. Looking back, some things have evolved (oh, that awful feeling of reading your own diary too soon after you’ve written the entry, and wanting to start all over again from scratch), and some things are pretty constant. Around March, for instance, I start pining away over spring and gardens and dirt. I lament the absence of produce, and then I cook something from dry goods or cool storage vegetables. Repeat. Yawn.
My point is, I guess, that I’ve been thinking a lot about the type of content I produce here. When I started The Yellow House, I needed something, any type of outlet at all. I didn’t really know what the site would turn into (and believe it or not, it was not supposed to be focused on food alone). Posts here are pretty organic. I write what I want, when I want. But as much as I love giving everyone the line that “I write here for myself” (which is true), increasingly, there are people here reading along with me. And you know what you like about this blog. So I would love to hear from you, to hear which rambly categories you prefer most. I see entries on this blog as falling into a couple buckets: recipes, longer-form essays, thoughts on particular ingredients, and some more personal posts (that possibly don’t belong here, but I store them here anyway). The unifying theme is that I don’t like writing or posting something here for the sake of posting. But other than that…it’s a bit of a grab bag. I wonder if there should be more focus, or if this MO is fine, for now. This is all getting a bit navel-gaze-y, and I don’t want to take myself too seriously, so, if you have some thoughts, let me know.
…
Otherwise, onto the soup. I have a bit of a color addiction in food, so anytime I can pull something as pedestrian as a legume from my pantry and turn it into something this sunny, I am thrilled. Split peas have an earthiness to them that carries the dish, and a drizzle of brown butter on top is, while negotiable, an improvement on something already good. I’m growing these pea shoots again, and they’re the perfect bright contrast to the creamy soup. This one’s a pretty blank canvas, as far as toppings go, though–a swirl of greek yogurt and some peppery hot sauce is nice here, and I bet some scallions or chives would be wonderful, too.
Yellow split pea soup with brown butter drizzle
You’ll need
- 1 tablespoon unsalted butter
- 1 yellow onion, sliced
- 1 clove garlic, thinly sliced
- 2 Yukon gold potatoes, chopped into 1-inch pieces
- 2 tablespoons white wine vinegar
- 8-10 cups vegetable broth or water
- 1 tablespoon kosher salt (if your broth is salty, do not add the entire amount, add to taste)
- 3 cups yellow split peas
- 1 teaspoon red pepper flakes
- For brown butter topping:
- 4 ounces butter
Directions
- In a large, deep pot, heat the tablespoon of butter over medium-high heat until it foams. Add the onion and saute, stirring, for about five minutes, until the onion begins to soften and turn gold. Add the garlic and potatoes and toss them with the onions, cooking for another minute or so. Add the white wine vinegar to the pot and deglaze, scraping the browned bits off the bottom of the pot, and continue to cook until the liquid has evaporated off.
- Add 8 cups of the vegetable broth/water, salt, and split peas, and bring to a boil. Reduce to a simmer and cook, stirring occasionally, for 40-50 minutes, until split peas are very tender. Keep an eye on the level of liquid, and add more if necessary. Remove from heat and allow to cool briefly.
- Using an immersion blender, puree the soup in the pot, or, alternatively, puree it carefully in batches in your blender.
- Bring the soup to a simmer again, thinning with more broth/water (or cream, if you’d like) to desired thickness.
- In a small saucepan, heat the 4 ounces butter. The butter will melt, foam up briefly, and then the dairy solids that precipitate will begin to toast, giving off a warm, nutty, delicious scent. The whole process can take anywhere from 5 minutes to 10 minutes. Keep an eye on the butter, as those same dairy solids can scorch.
- Serve the soup warm with a drizzle of the brown butter. Garnish as desired.
Greetings, Wonderful Writer.
Any and all of your posts are simply fabulous. Your words and photos bring happiness to many “silent” readers like myself, no doubt. I have been reading your blog for a while now, maybe a year? I found it through Molly’s page. It could only delight me more if there were more posts. (No pressure, I love that you do it leisurely.) I wish I could visit with you and share a meal and see your baby plants. I love everything you write. Keep on, please.
Sincerely,
L’autre Sarah
I think you’re going to get this a lot… but seriously, all of your posts are awesome. I especially like those rare personal ones that get into some morally/ethically political stuff, but I don’t think I would enjoy those as much if they showed up every week like your “normal” thoughts and recipes do. Concerning your recipe posts, I especially like the ones that feature and focus on one ingredient, though.
I second this line of thought – the food would not be as interesting if it were not ‘spiced’ with occasional non-food stories, simply because the point of blogs is that they are a peek into someone’s personal life, but more or less anonymously, all around. It’s nice to get to know someone’s personal take on food, but also on life. I think you’re already in tune, and can’t imagine how you could improve. Honestly, I’m tired of everything being tailored to my tastes and when I come across a particularly pleasing harmony of opinion and individual expression, I jump for joy. So that’s how I would best be served, by you being you. If anything go even more deeply into your own creative satisfaction, whatever that may end up looking like, because, why not? Thank you so much!
I’d like to be able to navigate from post to post, in either direction, after I’ve read the comments, without having to go back to the home page to scroll to a new post. This is especially helpful for people like me who find a new blog then want to read straight through like a book, from the beginning. I can’t be the only one who does this, but it’s amazing how many blog designs do not account for this type of usablity. Love your blog, btw.
Helpful! Thanks, Elle. Will try to figure that out :)
Sarah! That looks like a pretty serious operation you’ve got going on there. Can’t wait to see what this coming season brings you.
I am, of course, partial to garden and chicken posts, but I think you should just keep doing what you’re doing. When you post, you are quite manifestly inspired, and that, I think, is what matters.
Soul food if EVER I saw it :)
Hi there,
I wanted to chime in and say how much I love your blog as it already is. Even if it is sort of a grab bag of ideas, it’s all part of the same story – you and this country house. Your stories and your recipes all seem to tie into this framework (even if loosely at times). I don’t think you need to change one bit – but I’m sure to read whatever you put out there anyway :)
Keep up the amazing work! I started blogging recently, and your blog is one that gives me great inspiration as I feel my way through the first few months, trying to decipher my own story that ties it all together.
Carley
I love the idea of you growing in your basement! Would love to read more about your gardening if you’re willing to share. Love split peas..and pea shoots!
I love everything you write, I love the pace (such a treat!) and I too love the personal postings most of all. That lovely essay about the vet in the train station bar is something I think about all the time.
“recipes, longer-form essays, thoughts on particular ingredients, and some more personal posts”
Honestly, I love this blog for the nice mix of all four! (in other words, no helpful advice- just keep up the good work!)
Thank you for posting ‘baby pictures’ of your beautiful tiny seedlings. I grew things from seed last year (being my first with my own dirt) and the thrill of watching tiny leaves break through the soil and then grow to become delicious tomatoes is intoxicating. Thanks to a HIGHLY inquisitive kitten and a crazy work schedule, no seet starting this year. Thank goodness all my favorite bloggers are posting pictures for me to get my fix.
honestly, i love whatever you happen to put up here: essays without recipes, essays with, just a few lines and then a recipe. what i think matters, and you do it so well, is the consistent quality of writing and your simple way with language. there’s no clever turn of phrase, nothing precious – and I, for one, love that. So I say unto you, don’t change a thing. This is a space that inspires me and calms me down, which, as of late, I’ve needed a bit of given life things and such.
Thanks, lady.
Pretty much what everyone else says – I love your writing style, the mix of pieces you post – I am always happy to see a post from you pop up in my feed. It doesn’t really feel like a ‘grab bag’ because the unifying theme is your way with words.
I also agree that I like all posts. However, I think I like reading them because it’s apparent that you liked writing them. If you’re bored with a certain style or feel something is getting redundant, don’t do it or do something different. I’ll still read.
I love the mix of posts you’ve got going. Just don’t stop!
I love your blog and I think that what you post is a good mix
I love the recipes and the gardening posts and I also love the longer essays / personal reflection pieces … so all up for me it’s a good mix
Anne
I’ve just recently discovered your blog, which I’m thoroughly enjoying, and wanted to cast my vote for more stories, reflections, memories, recipes from your grandmother and the farm. 17 kids just blows me away! (And unfortunately I’m not able to see the photos from this post? They don’t seem to be rendering?)
Thanks for sharing from your heart – it is a treat to read!
:)
Kathleen
Hm, the photos should be working… and thanks for the feedback! —S
I like the recipes, but frankly I just like reading your writing! You’re much more disciplined than I am about posting.
I like long rambly posts, posts with deep, unanswerable, somewhat rhetorical questions, and posts just like this one – a mix of food and real life and romance.
yes you are going to get a lot like this ……
wonderful writing always, thought provoking at times (in a very good way), informative on a variety of food related themes, great recipes and a nice balanced mix of all. MO is working well as far as this reader is concerned.
Your blog is an inspiration. Keep doing what you’re doing — I love all of it! It’s more authentic and political than most blogs in this genre I’ve read. You have the balance right because your site is honest.
I’ve “read” many food blogs for years, but mostly this entails looking at pictures and trying a recipe occasionally. In contrast, I check your site regularly to see if you’ve written any new posts, because I want to read them. You’re creative and honest in your writing, and I can tell you put a lot of time into your entries. Like another person commented, it would be wonderful if you posted more frequently; but, I’d rather have quality than quantity. So post once a month if you have to. Your writing is superb!
Thanks Leah! And to everyone….I want to post more frequently, too. I’ll work on it, I will. –S
the things you write about are entertaining and thought provoking. to me, the personal parts of blogs are what I enjoy the most. you can get recipes anywhere. don’t get me wrong, I love those too, but without the story of “you” they wouldn’t mean as much. thank you for what you do and don’t forget, it’s YOUR blog. do what makes you happy.
I’m with the “I love the whole grab bag” crowd! I think I read your blog because I like your writing. And if you think about your favorite essayists, whomever they may be, they probably don’t write the same thing all the time – it is your voice and perspective that are the unifying thread. So write on as you are, I say.
Sarah, I’m always pleased when I open my inbox to a new blog post from you – I enjoy reading about your work (I especially loved the post about working with women and mothers and the meals that can be made from a simple can of beans). I love updates from your garden and while I appreciate Yellow House is your space, perhaps you would like to share more about Sam’s work in the wine industry.
Although, what I like most is your voice so I would enjoy anything you write :)
Oooh, so many wine posts in draft that I haven’t really developed or felt were relevant. I like the green light you’re giving me. Thanks!
I love that it changes. I get hooked on blogs because what I read is always changing, it makes me feel like the author is alive. I really love you recipes, but also find you to be an incredible writer. So I’ll take all of it. I regret that in an effort to stay consistent, I post for the sake of posting. I like sharing recipes, though I don’t always have something to say. I still like being there, even if I don’t feel like giving a piece of my heart away quite yet. All to say, I really respect what you do. Hope you get some fresh bits of spring your way soon!
I dont think you have ever written a post where I thought “yawn” or “why the hell is she talking about that” I love that it is a grab bag of ideas, it makes it unpredictable. I think the best part about your posts is that they seem organic, and like you wanted to write them, not like its what you think we want you to talk about… if that makes any sense. I dont think you should change a thing, write what ever the hell you want and we will listen. though, I like seeing recipes along with posts, because your food seems very approachable and makes me want to cook. In that same vein hearing you talk about gardening makes me wish I could do it desperately, but each year it fails me…
I love everything about your blog as it is but what i particularly enjoy most are your longer form essays. i totally dig your navel grazing posts! i find it so insightful and interesting – a great distraction from my own personal life.
I’m another one saying don’t ever change. I love that I never quite know what I’m going to get when I come here and each post brings something new and fresh and exciting.
You couldn’t describe this transitional time of year any more accurately. We want it to be spring, hell even the dirt wants it to be spring, and because sunlight is returning it kind of feels like it is, but it isn’t. Not yet. Soon it will be, but we have a few more weeks of trying to be inspired by tired produce and the contents of our pantry.
And about that question you ask, I like that The Yellow House changes it up. I like the longer essays with the shorter recipe posts. I like your take on ingredients and I like your more personal tales (such as those beets and your grandparents and how you recently described them). Keep it up I say!
Keep doing what you’re doing! obviously that’s the consensus. I love the grab bag aspect of your blog, you are a terrific writer, so anything you choose to “talk” about here is a pleasure to read. I’m weary of food blogs (including my own, which is also obvious since I haven’t posted much of late.) It is heartening to read posts that come from YOU, not a person trying to create a niche–the pacing/rhythm of all the topics is what makes this blog feel so alive and relevant . I hardly ever comment on blogs, and I read less and less of them. When I see a post of yours in my inbox, I wait to read it when I can savor it with a cup of tea. I look forward to each and every one of them.
Not much to add about what you write, because I´ve been reading it for more than a year, which means I like it the way you´re doing it. A lot.
When someone writes with soul, it comes through. There´s no escaping your own style and rythm, so my two cents might be about posting more often. But, then again, I don´t see how forcing anything can produce better stuff.
I make split pea soup a lot, and the drizzle of brown butter might just be what it needed! Lovely!
I like the variety! I like this blog. A lot. It’s one of my favorites, perhaps precisely because you write whatever you’re into. Your story about meeting a stranger in a bar surprised me entirely, but in a good way. Your honest post about the fallacies of too-beautiful food bloggery was refreshing. The posts just purely about food, gardening and eating with friends are also better than most of what’s out there because they have heart and personality. Like Paula, above me, I think you should just keep doing what you’re doing, and the only thing that ever bothers me is a long silence between posts. Maybe you’d consider interspersing your major posts with small thoughts or snapshots. But I know life comes first, as it should, so don’t worry. We’ll be happy to read whatever you have time to write.
Helpful. Thanks, Leslie.
I don’t really have anything to add except adding my voice to the chorus of “I love it all!”s. Just keep writing for yourself. We’re here because we want to explore the journey with you. I’m sure it helps us all explore our own.
I’m going with the majority (and my own instinct) here; your natural mix of themes and forms works beautifully. Everything that you write feels authentic and brings a sense of care and home with it. I think that’s the secret that draws people in, more than particular content. I know it’s what keeps me coming back. And on a personal note, as some one who often feels like I’m asking a lot of readers with the range of topics my writing spans (you came here for recipes and now you get to read about Buddhism or painting, or vice versa!), I think your various foci mingle together nigh unnoticeably, which is a testament to your craftsmanship. Keep it up – the peanut gallery is enthusiastic!
I love your blog most of all for the honesty and care you have with words. I, like most of the commenters, love all your posts equally but as a fellow global public health professional in DC I’d love to hear more about your thoughts on food and global health. I would also love to hear more about how you manage your garden and pantry. Otherwise keep doing what you’re doing because it works!
Dried split pea with fresh pea shoots? Now that is something. (It actually puts me in mind of classic Iron Chef, in which some chef stuffed the salmon with salmon to bring out the flavor of salmon…) I like all kinds of blog entries, although I have to say cooking food is my favorite topic. Gardening is always great too. But hey, it’s your blog–do what you like!
I totally love your blog, and I think it’s perfect ! I love your stories from your heart, the recipes, the ramblings. All make me think about my life and the things I treasure.
I really miss planting seeds in March. Seems I don’t have much time for it, tho I know I have to MAKE time! I just might have to have a window herb garden. Maybe that will satisfy that craving!
Anyway, what I want to say mostly is be yourself. Write what you feel and what you want,, and it will be perfect. I so look forward to whatever you write!
I’m going into the medical field, so I’d love to hear about how your professional work in public health coincides with your knowledge of the food world. Academic interests aside, anything that continues on your themes of friendship and nourishment (like “The grand gesture”) is a-mazing. Beautiful pictures, brilliant words, and recipes that actually get me cooking! Favorite blog, hands down.
Holy seeds! I’ve got my catalog on my desk and need to get an order in sooooon. We’re in a funny spot because we rent, so each year I scratch my head wondering how much effort I really want to put into the garden. And then I do … Keep on keepin’ on is what I say. I love your recipes because I feel we cook similarly, so I just relate to them. And man I love your longer-form pieces because I think your writing is some of the best on the internet right now. Hands down. I actually get excited when I see a new post and save it until I have an uninterrupted moment to really relish it. So I say keep doing what makes you happy. We’ll all follow, happily so.
your grab bag is like a trail mix with all of your most favorite ingredients. there is no bypassing the peanuts to chomp all of the cranberries and macadamia nuts.
I found your blog about a year ago, and keep returning for the beautiful writing. Some days you inspire me to plant things, other days you remind me to appreciate something or someone in a new way. And I love that whenever you do post, it’s always thoughtful. That means much more to me than frequent. Looking forward to your next post, and the one after that.
I will add my appreciation for exactly what you are doing. The occasional long-form essays – particularly the one with the vet and the beers in the train station and the family story with beets – just extraordinary.
Recipes are very nice too. Don’t sweat it – just enjoy it and do what you like. we like it too.
I love all your posts in this space – no need to change a thing! The personal essays woven into the recipes is the perfect mix. Some I enjoy in the moment, some I carry with me for weeks (like the piece on the gentleman you encountered at the Union Station bar). Thank you for so beautifully sharing your thoughts and recipes with us!
Yes. We have been super diligent with seedlings this year as well. The impossible greyness of this winter is fuelling it on. Like you, we have our stunningly grow-op esque lighting set-up in the basement and enjoy the seeming silliness of it.
And an answer to your query that is not terribly helpful: I enjoy everything you write + offer us here! I appreciate all of your ways of expression–the style in cooking, the stories, the visual documentation, all of it.
I love your writing – keep it up, and continue to write about what you love. My only wish is that someday you will want to write something longer – a novel :)
Many, many thanks!
For a pantry dish, that bowl of soup looks awfully cheerful! It’s funny, this is the third spring on La Domestique too and I had to resist the urge this week to write my annual “Is it spring yet?” post. When it comes to The Yellow House, I do find my favorite posts are just like this one here today: a thoughtful look at what’s happening in your world and a recipe for something simple, seasonal, and mouth-watering. I do enjoy everything you put out here, though.
I love your blog as it is… a mix of food and life. Don’t change a thing!
What I love most is the way I feel when I read posts… there is only one other blog that has a similar affect on me and that is “the habit of being”. My life is crazy and hectic, and when I read this blog it makes me want things to be simple and delicious.
Thanks for sharing your perspective and talent for writing. :) joy
I’m one of those people who flag every recipe from you that comes through my reader, because I always want to make it and I’m also trying (read: about giving up) cooking seasonally while I live in Scotland and it’s sometimes hard to make that rhythm work. But I am here because those recipe posts are surrounded by thoughtful reflection, meditations on the habit of being, and so forth. Perhaps I am unhelpfully saying that until this post I didn’t much consider that you should do anything else, that I only wanted food from you. That would be a loss. Your food is a part of a narrative that you share in glimpses here, which keeps me coming back. You set tables. Tables aren’t just about food, but the endless circle of word that skips around it. So I keep coming back. Please don’t stop.
Your blog is wonderful as it is – I come here for the great, insightful writing style so anything you post is interesting to read. But I must say that soup is next on my list to make. Thanks.
To be honest, I’ll ready anything you write, no matter the content or topic. Recipes are good–they can be a strong backbone for an article, and food is so evocative to begin with, but your writing is really the reason I visit your site. There are few blogs out there with excellent writing, but yours is always a rare treat.
As for the split pea soup, it must be in the air. We made a batch last week with green split peas and a ham hock from a local smokehouse. It was heavenly. Unfortunately, this year we will not be planting a garden as we are moving across the country in May. I miss all those tiny seedlings and the wild hope they bring with them. I wish you luck and fortitude in this gardening season!
I can’t commit to reading every response to what’s explained in this post, but I don’t have to; because, if they’re like me, they just appreciate everything you choose to put in this space. Sometimes we find a place that speaks to us, not because of it’s perfect content, but because it’s like sitting across a kitchen table from someone, over steaming tea cups and a slice of delicious bread, or a similar fare, and it becomes a conversation or dialogue that just feels right. To be part of something that’s less about the shouting and more about… well, us. When we can see a piece of ‘us’ in a post, it becomes a spot we like to frequent. I like to be here, regardless of what you write about, food or otherwise.
I love what you do–you know that. All of it.
Just please don’t stop :-)
I thought I could just let this go, since many here have already said what I wanted to say, but I keep thinking about it, so apparently not.
I love this blog just as it is! If you are feeling like things need to change, then change them in your own time, for your own reasons. But if not, then just keep going. You inspire me, and others too. When my blog grows up, it wants to be like The Yellow House.
My favorite posts are those that include tiny peeks into your daily life and ad hoc musings. I’m not looking for entire posts devoted to such things, but tantalizing glimpses.
Your simple lay out contrasted with the rich and beautiful photos make the blog easy on the eye. The commentary on the recipe and why it has been selected makes me decide to keep reading and then try the recipe at times. The personal stories are well written but the recipes are what draws me here.
I like the grab bag. I vote to just keep it the way it is.
I think you have a great mix of posts – I love your simple, beautifully photographed food and the insights into your life. I wouldn’t change anything – keep following your instinct. I will have to try the spit pea soup.
I enjoy your writing style. You lay things out in a simple and thoughtful manner. Write what ever and when ever it suits you…we enjoy it!!!
I love what you have going on your blog–your essays and thoughts mixed in with a beautiful celebration of food and the seasons. Also, just for the record, your piece about the Veteran in DC has really stuck with me–that was some beautiful writing you did there.
Yours is one of my favourite blogs. Your writing is as amazing as your recipes. I’m so thankful to be able to come here from time to time and read your lovely essays.
xxx
M..
I am one of your silent readers who likes your blog just as it is! Frequency, content, everything….I like it all. There are times in life though when one wants to make a change and if you have something new arising in you……follow it happily!
I love all you write too – your post on your grandparents was one of my favourite ever. It actually prompted a long email exchange between myself and my aunt in Virginia. She was English, married a serviceman and then moved with her husband to his family’s farm in Iowa and your post resonated greatly with her. I want to do my own post on those experiences, which are just amazing.
I agree with your annual themes, I feel the same way about my own routine, marked on my own blog. In Australia we are nearly half way through March (Autumn) and still experiencing such hot summer weather – it’s overwhelming. We have hit a all time record for the most days over 30C EVER. We have high humidity and temps in the high 30’s and instead of relishing it we’re all yearning for gorgeous Fall days, my favourite season by far. Sure the garden is still heavy with tomatoes, the basil is going gangbusters, cucumbers grow overnight and green beans hang like dangling earrings from the plants. We’re over it now though and ready to move on to something different, as we are every year.
I join the rest, in that I am indeed a fan of all your postings. I first came to your blog for the recipes, and I have stayed as a continued reader due to your engaging writing voice and beautiful photos. I am inspired by the “lifestyle” that is reflected here. Your blog brings me joy!
Your MO is perfect. I enjoy your ramblings as much as your recipes and I am constantly inspired by the honesty and the openness of your writing.
I have been reading your blog from the beginning, after stumbling on it by chance, and I have been meaning to write you all this time to tell you how much I enjoy reading it. I am sure whatever direction you choose to take it will also be wonderful.
Dear Sarah,
I love the unexpected themes of your posts. It’s precisely this mix of random topics that makes your blog such a delight to read. I’ve gathered great recipes and have found myself mulling over your essays for days after reading them, and I’d love to keep getting these little surprises. Keep writing what moves you!
Thanks for sharing your food, thoughts, and life.
All the best,
Radina
Let me say that I too want to cast a vote for loving your current MO. It is what keeps your blog authentic. My most favourite blogs to read are those that write because they need a place to put their thoughts and not write just for the sake of shoving out a post. Keep going! With warm wishes from Ottawa.
I’ve never commented here, but I just want to say I love your content and especially your recipes! I have had a hard time finding my voice and figuring out exactly what it is that I want to share on my own blog – but I love your approach, it’s a mix of everything and it’s all beautiful. That said, I sometimes see glimpses of what your growing, and I would love to see more of that on here (but thats just me, I’m kind of garden obsessed). And that soup looks yummy, exactly what is needed on this gray day.
While I enjoy your recipes, I must admit I do come here for your words – your thoughtfulness and honesty is so refreshing, and I always walk away feeling inspired and challenged, both in my own writing and in life in general. I love what you do here, how you mix things up, and I think part of the charm is that you do write and post about what you want, when you want. It’s a great space, one I look forward to visiting.
I am making yellow split pea soup with ham and the ham hock and finely diced carrots. The soup has been cooking for the past seven hours and it has turned from a yellow to a reddish coloration. This has never happened before. Has this ever happened to you? Is it safe to eat…or should we discard it? I called the La Cena Co. Limited of Saddle River who is the distributed and they think it is from the ham. Please advise. Thank you. Mrs. Miller
Hi Mrs. Miller—Since it’s not from this recipe, I’m afraid I can’t provide any help. If I took a guess I’d say it was from the ham, and that it’s probably safe to eat. But trust your judgment. Sorry to not be more help—Sarah
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