RSS Feed

Refried Black Eye Peas Stew

Posted on
black eye peas stew

black eye peas stew

It was a week of extreme weather changes in UK. One night I was woken up by the sound of whistling in a fireplace, and wheelie bins traveling down the road, pushed by the wind. Next week the sun is shining, everything is blooming and Brits are going a bit crazy, as they usually do, when the sun is out for the first time after the winter. The midriffs are out, the car rooftops are down.

It’s the time when you start organizing your wardrobe, cooking comfort food and watching your favorite TV series returning to your small screen.

So, when your are engrossed in Mad Men, Game of Thrones, Penny Dreadful, True Detective or else, have something comforting to eat, like the bean stew with the Mexican twist.

black eye peas stew

black eye peas stew

Refried Black Eye Peas Stew

1 each yellow, red and green pepper

1 can chopped tomatoes

1 can black eye peas (or cup dry ones, soaked overnight and cooked)

1 chilli

2 cloves garlic

1 tsp cumin

1 tsp smoked paprika


chopped parsley or coriander

2 tbsp olive oil

Optional – brown rice and tortilla chips

1.Preheat the oven to 160C.

2.Heat olive oil in a skillet. Add chopped garlic, chilli and cumin seeds.

3. Fry on a medium heat for 2-3, add peppers cut into matchsticks. Fry for 5-8 min, add tomatoes and peas.

3. Put the skillet into a preheated oven. Cook for 15-20 min. In the meantime cook brown rice.

4. Take the skillet out of the oven. Add Smoked paprika and salt, mix. Sprinkle with coriander or parsley, serve with tortilla chips and rice.

black eye peas stew

black eye peas stew

black eye peas stew

black eye peas stew


About potatofaces

People who cook always go on about precious memories of childhood food one of their family members cooked, how daddy or nanny taught them the importance of cooking and eating together, and they still remember the comfort food they produced, amazing dishes whipped up by brilliant but humble cooks in their family. Well, let me tell you, it was totally different in my family. My mother’s family – totally useless as cooks, who could survive on bread and butter, cooked once a week a terrible, terrible meal, usually some kind of meat piece with lots of brown sauce. Also, they were never bothered about eating together. That’s maybe why most of them were depressed and suicidal. My mother followed that path and couldn’t really cook, and because I never wanted to eat meat, was warning me that ‘one day I will regret it’. Probably because my mother wasn’t into cooking my sister at the age of 12 took over and started producing amazing dinners and cakes. Well, luckily for me and her we weren’t that genetically doomed because apparently my father’s family were gifted in that compartment. I can only presume it was genes, as my father divorced my mother when my sis and me were little and he strongly believed that he also divorced us. So, we were growing up never having any contact with him and as a result, couldn’t learn how to cook from him. That’s why I believe the love of cooking ( and the ability) was just passed to us genetically. My father, short time before he died, unexpectedly felt an urge to contact us. First he gave my sister a mandolin (that’s another thing I know about him- he played a few instruments). My sister refused to talk to him, he then decided to contact me and wanted to spend some time with me. I didn’t want to, as he was a stranger to me (I was 11 or 12 at the time) but as I was promised I could leave whenever I wanted to, I went to the village he lived in. There I tried his mother’s cooking everyone was raving about. It was simple and amazing, I wish they were as family dedicated as they were at baking, cooking, making pastries, wine, tinctures, you name it. But I ate, drunk, and got bored of strangers who were my family and demanded to be let to go home. One of the last things my father said to me was that I should start learning English because I might need it one day, which I ignored for another 16 years… Because my sister was such a domestic goddess I wasn’t really bothered about cooking. I got hooked properly after my son was born and I wanted him to eat healthy and get everything he needed, especially that it wasn’t his choice to be a vegetarian (yet). And that is how the story begins…

9 responses »

  1. the food looks beautiful 🙂


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: