Leicester Adventure: Split Pea Soup

It's massively snowing and all of the UK has ground to a standstill, including the airports. I was going to order pizza today, but seeing as London Road is completely blocked, I've decided to turn to my 'emergency stash' of Dutch split pea soup. I made this stash two months ago, right before my birthday, and now it's perfect.

I will share my family recipe here, but only because it's cold out and people need comfort food.

There's a handful of Dutch household myths on making split pea soup and I daren't defy them, so I'll share them with you too:

• Don't make split pea soup when it's raining or misty or thunder-stormy out (because of humidity and air pressure)
• Don't make split pea soup when you're on your period (it's an actual belief)
• Split pea soup is best with a Hema rookworst. If you can't get that, butcher's rookworst (and not the other way around!), then Unox. 
• A personal belief: it's best to make it in really big batches, preferably in an old enamel soup pot. I say this more because I always used to make it in a 10l enamel soup pot and last November was restricted to a 5l steel thing, which I didn't like. 

ILSE'S RECIPE FOR AUTHENTIC DUTCH SPLIT PEA SOUP

Things you need:

Cooking equipment

A big soup pot

A sharp knife

A cutting board

Ingredients

Water

Split peas (100 grams per half-liter)

Diced bacon

Plain pork ribs

Marrow bone

Stock cubes (1 per liter)

Leek

Onion (1 per 5l)

Carrot

Celeriac (half for 5l, whole for 10l)

Rookworst

Salt and pepper

What to do:

First, soak the split peas overnight, then strain and toss in soup pot with the water, diced bacon, the ribs, the marrow bone and the stock cubes. 

While that's boiling (make sure it's boiling!), cut the leek, dice the onion and carrot and celeriac. Make sure to 1) keep stirring the stock (otherwise you'll end up with a big black layer on the bottom of your pot, which will not only make your soup taste funky but is hell to clean) and 2) keep scooping off any froth.

Boil the split pea stock until most peas have burst. Note: this may take up to three hours. Scoop out the ribs and marrow bone. Carve any remaining meat and marrow from the bones, toss out the bones and put the meat back into the stock. Now also add your vegetables. Boil until all vegetables (including the celeriac!) are soft; this may take another one-and-a-half hours. 

Add salt and pepper to taste. If you really can't wait, have a bowl of split pea soup now. Leave the rest in the pot and put somewhere cold overnight. This may be your balcony or garden (bonus points when it's freezing and snowing!), or your fridge. Note: if you put it in your fridge, make sure your soup and pot have cooled enough to make sure you won't spoil whatever else is in your fridge through residual heat. 

The following morning, your soup has officially turned to 'snert'. Heat up, scoop into bowls, cut up rookworst and add, eat with rye bread and bacon (or pancakes, perhaps?) and enjoy!

Snert keeps remarkably well when frozen.
I gave no indications of how much veg has to go in: that's up to yourself.

This is a family recipe, and as you can see there are no secret ingredients (not even 'love'); all a good snert or split pea soup requires is attention and devotion. It's a process that can easily take up your entire afternoon and night, and you can't just go out and do something else; you have to stay with it. 

The ultimate test of snert is being able to stand up your spoon in the bowl. Note that this recipe requires no potatoes; potatoes are evil and if your snert needs them, that's more an indication of your inability to cook a good and thick snert than of the fact that somehow snert needs potatoes. If you've made a good batch, your spoon will stand up even without added potatoes. 

And that's it; that's all there is to cooking a traditional Dutch split pea soup or 'snert'.