This is why I am reluctant to move abroad, now that the time has come to start thinking about it. I mean, not for as long as Faithful Hound is alive. We wouldn’t even think about putting him through an international flight in a cargo hold, doped up or not, and besides, he’s getting on in years so maybe not that wise to do a “Valley of the Dolls” on him.

No, what keeps me here is this kind of Americana. Since peas that originated within 50 miles of us (thank you, New Jersey!) are going to be arriving any day now, I decided to look into pea recipes. I came across the Broadway Pea Salad. I assumed, because I live in New York and it all revolves around us, that this was some legendary Great White Way favorite of Broadway divas and maybe I could get a Celebrity Sunday Matinee out of it.

Turns out, and this is why I will miss America deeply if we ever do pick up stakes, the Broadway Pea Salad is served in one place. In Spokane, WA (pronounced “Spo-CAN,” not “Spo-CANE,” apparently) there is a steak-and-seafood restaurant called Clinkerdagger and they serve this. Imagine how much fun it must be to be able to say, “I was at Clinkerdagger in Spokane and had the Broadway Pea Salad.” I know that Mediterranean Europe has these equivalents. A slang term for cuckold in French is “Le Cuco,” and we once wandered into a place with that name. It also means “cuckoo,” like cuckoo clock, and I was expecting to find at least one. Our cheerful waiter informed us that it derived its name from the woman who had her very rich husband under her spell. She slept around all the time, and he was powerless to stop her, and when he died she took some of the inheritance and opened this restaurant. The waiter said, “Try the oysters. They inspire amorous feelings.”

Poor monolingual Better Half. But it is a blessing for me, and I gave him a G-rated version and summed up my conversation with, “The waiter suggests we try the oysters.”

Clinkerdagger’s Broadway Pea Salad

1⁄2 cup mayonnaise
1⁄2 cup sour cream
1 teaspoon white pepper
1 teaspoon kosher salt
4 ounces snow peas, but and strings removed [I think “butt” was meant but maybe my SafeSearch was on]
3 1⁄2 lbs frozen baby peas, thawed but not cooked (see note)
5 ounces water chestnuts, sliced
3 ounces bacon, cooked crisp and chopped into 1/4-inch pieces
2 1⁄2 ounces red onions, 1/4-inch dice

DIRECTIONS

Blend together mayonnaise, sour cream, white pepper and salt. Combine snow peas, baby peas, water chestnuts, bacon and red onions with dressing until ingredients are well coated.

Refrigerate at least 24 hours before serving. Stir twice each day to redistribute dressing.

Note: Peas must be naturally thawed. Slow thawing under refrigeration is best. Room temperature is acceptable, but do not place in water. Place the thawed peas on paper-towel lined pans and let stand at room temperature for 30 minutes to purge the remaining excess moisture from the peas. If peas are not thoroughly thawed or have been thawed in water and not properly drained, they will dilute the dressing.

Yield: 8 servings.