After the lettuce has bolted

One advantage of living in a place that is rarely hot and dry for any length of time is that green leafy crops stand well in the ground. I am still finishing off the first sowing of lettuces made back in early April. Conventional gardening wisdom is to sow a few seeds every couple of weeks, but I find that three (or at most four) outdoor sowings of saladings is usually sufficient for the whole season. And that applied even when there were two of us here to eat them.

But even under my cool, damp conditions they do eventually bolt. My chickens don't appear very interested in them, and I am a little reluctant to give the pigs too much lettuce. I am sure they would happily demolish the lot, but I am not sure the effect it would have on their, admittedly none-too-delicate, digestions while they are still quite young. It is certainly a waste to throw it straight onto the compost heap. So what to do?

Lettuce is not an obvious ingredient for hot dishes, with one or two notable exceptions. I sometimes use a few chopped leaves if I am short of green stuff for noodle soup, and braised peas and lettuce is a lovely way to make use of peas that escaped being picked while young and tender and have turned a little mealy.

Sadly there is no excess of peas, either fresh or mealy, in my garden this year. I have made several sowings - both directly into the ground and in lengths of guttering indoors - using older and freshly-bought seed. In return I have had about half a dozen pea plants. A complete disaster that I am at a loss to explain.

There were some shop-bought peas in the freezer, however, which gave me the idea of making a soupy version of the braised lettuce. I simply softened a couple of chopped shallots in a little butter (and I think it does have to be butter here, rather than oil), and threw in a couple of handfuls of frozen peas, the washed and shredded lettuce and a nice sprig of mint. I then waited for the mountain of lettuce to subside a little before pouring in some vegetable stock (in this case the liquid saved from cooking chick peas, which makes a very serviceable and savoury stock). This was simply simmered for ten minutes or so, seasoned and then attacked with the hand blender until smooth.

I was very pleased with the result. The slight bitterness from the lettuce contrasts beautifully with the sweetness of the peas, while the hint of mint gives the whole soup a satisfying depth of flavour. I did think of adding a little cream, but in the end didn't think it needed it.

All in all a happy end for something that originally looked destined for the compost heap!