Food; The Pod Squad

Consider the poor pea. Although it is gorgeously green and plump, it lives a sheltered life. But not even such a claustrophobic existence can tarnish the pea's enduring sweetness.

Sugar peas, snap peas and round-pod sugar peas are all varieties of sugar snap peas, sweetly tender and buttery-tasting. Preserved in edible pods, they carry us from spring's tentative warming to the impetuous confidence of summer.

Munching these peas in their pods reminds me of eating abbacchio, the Italian baby lamb simmered in its mother's milk. The unsettling fact of abbacchio is at odds with the dish's character: the lamb is so soft, so innocent and tasty that it surrenders to the palate in an instant.

Sugar snap peas, cocooned in their skins, are similarly acquiescent. I am greedy for them, raw or cooked, alone or consorting with butter or olive oil, lemon or lime, ginger or shallots, scallions or leeks.

Botanists speculate that edible, or ''sweet,'' peas began as cultivars, and for a long time it was assumed that they originated in China. But the fact that sweet peas thrive in moderate climates casts serious doubts on their Chinese ancestry.

In ''Uncommon Fruits and Vegetables: A Commonsense Guide,'' Elizabeth Schneider notes that edible-podded peas were most likely developed in Holland well before the 17th century, since by then French horticulturalists were calling them ''Dutch peas.'' Petits pois -- peas from a variety of sugar snap -- as well as snow peas, known among the British as mange-tout, or ''eat everything'' peas, have since become a mainstay of haute cuisine.