17^th century

Pease Pudding

Pease pudding is an old English dish, remembered in an old nursery rhyme: ‘Pease porridge hot, pease porridge cold, Pease porridge in the pot nine days old; Some like it hot, some like it cold, Some like it in the pot nine days old.’ (The Original Mother Goose’s Melody, 1889.)

It evolved from the medieval pease pottage or porridge, which was one of the main filler dishes before potatoes came to Britain. Various varieties of peas and beans were grown on a large scale throughout Britain. These legumes are one of the oldest of cultivated crops and were probably brought to England by the Romans. The pea plant is hardy and could face the often-rough weather in northern Europe. After harvest the peas were dried and kept in storage until needed. The pease pottage would be served with salted bacon when any was available, as the bacon was so salty the pea pottage would balance out the flavours nicely.

‘Hot grey peas and a suck of bacon’ was the cry of seventeenth century street vendors, but street sellers of peas and other foods have been documented as far back as medieval times. Similarities with the Dutch pea soup known as snert are many. To the thick snert, a salty smoked sausage – originally from the province of Gelderland – was added to provide the pottage with its much needed salty seasoning.

As soon as the pudding cloth came into use, the mixture began to be boiled in a cloth and became pease pudding; however, usage of the word pease pottage or porridge continued to be interchangeable.

While the dish does make for a perfect peasant meal, one you could imagine they would have had, it was also prepared in more noble households. The Forme of Cury (Samuel Pegge, ed.) mentions a ‘Perrey of Pesoun’ a pea purée, for the king’s table in around 1390. Samuel Pepys, one of the most important diarists in history – and not a poor man – tells us: ‘At noon I went home and dined with my wife on pease porridge and nothing else.’ (1 February 1660)

It is very possible that Pepys’s pease porridge would have looked like the one in the following contemporary recipe by Robert May:

Pease Pottage.

Take green pease being shelled and cleansed, put them in a pipkin of fair boiling water; when they be boil’d and tender, take and strain some of them, and thicken the rest, put to them a bundle of sweet herbs, or sweet herbs chopped, salt, and butter; being through boil’d dish them, and serve them in a deep clean dish with salt and sippets about them.

Robert May, The Accomplisht Cook, 1660

The ‘sweet herbs’ he mentions are named in another earlier recipe by Sir Kenelm Digby (The Closet of the Eminently Learned Sir Kenelme Digbie Knight Opened, 1669) as fresh mint, parsley, winter savory and sweet marjoram. Digby also adds ground coriander seeds. May instructs the cook to serve the dish with sippets, which were small pieces of toasted or fried bread.

Nineteenth century pease pudding recipes suggest boiling the pease pud in a cloth before mashing the peas, then adding butter and flavourings before boiling it again.

Today the pease pudding is often served with gammon and ham hock. But I also quite like it as a dip or a sarnie (sandwich) spread, topped with bacon. I am using the herbs Sir Kenelm Digby used in his recipe, because they give a good flavour to the peas.

Serves 4–6 people as a snack or side dish

500 g (1 lb 2 oz/2¼ cups) green or yellow dried split peas, soaked in water overnight, drained

30 g (1 oz) butter

1 tablespoon each of finely chopped mint, parsley, marjoram and savory

salt and pepper, to taste

bread, cut into triangles and toasted in clarified butter, to serve

Tip the peas into a saucepan and add fresh water to cover. Bring to the boil, skimming off any scum that rises to the surface. Lower the heat and simmer gently for an hour or until the peas are very tender.

Strain the peas and mash them, stirring in the butter and the herbs. Scoop into a nice serving dish and serve hot or warm with pork, with fish and chips, or spread on a sarnie. When served with the small pieces of toast – sippets, as instructed by Robert May – it reminds me of hummus with flatbread.