Fava Recipe: Greece’s Answer to “What Can I Do With These Yellow Split Peas?”

Picture this: a creamy swirl of pure golden goodness, rich with olive oil and tangy bites of lemon and red onion. That’s fava, one of Greece’s most famous dishes. Spoiler alert—it’s not made with the fava beans you’re picturing. Instead, yellow split peas steal the show.

Before you go imagining some over-complicated, chef-exclusive concoction, let me explain. Fava is a no-nonsense dish made from humble yellow split peas. They’re simmered down with onion, olive oil, and bay leaf until they reach an almost mashed-potato level of softness. When cooked, you can leave them slightly chunky or get all fancy with a blender—your kitchen, your rules.

Cooking Fava: Easy, Breezy, Slightly Sticky

Making fava at home is so simple you’ll wonder why you’ve been so intimidated. Here’s the step-by-step rundown:

1. Boil yellow split peas with chopped onion, a bay leaf, olive oil, and a pinch of salt.
2. Let it simmer until the peas go all soft and soupy. Keep an eye out; it might stick to the pot.
3. Decide your texture fate. Fork-mash it for a rustic vibe, or blitz it in a blender for silky-smooth elegance.

Now, pretend you’re in a taverna. Serve it warm with a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil, some capers, a sprinkle of red onion, and maybe a wedge of lemon. Bonus points if your table has a view of the Aegean Sea (or at least a houseplant to set the scene).

Still not sold? Think of fava as the Mediterranean cousin of hummus. It’s versatile enough to serve warm as a side dish or chilled as a creamy dip for pita. Combine it with grilled meat, vegetables, or seafood, and you’ve got yourself a meal that’s rustic yet somehow elegant.

Fava Recipe

The recipe below, courtesy of Akis Petretzikis, is as simple as it gets—no kitchen gymnastics required. It’s quick, loaded with plant-based protein, and perfect for vegans, vegetarians, or anyone who just appreciates a good meal.

For the fava

• 1 liter boiling water
• 200 g yellow split peas
• 1 carrot
• 1 onion
• 1 clove garlic
• 6 tbsp olive oil
• Salt
• Pepper
• A pinch of sugar
• 2 bay leaves
• 1,200 ml water
• 1 vegetable bouillon cube
• 1 sprig rosemary
• Zest from 1 lemon
• Juice from 1 lemon

For serving:

• Roasted cherry tomatoes
• Roasted onion
• 1 tbsp olive oil
• Fresh pepper

1. Dump the yellow split peas into a bowl. Pour some boiling water over them and stir with a wooden spoon until you feel super accomplished. Then let them awkwardly soak until the water turns a bit nasty looking.
2. Strain the peas into another bowl and set them aside, pretending they’ve been naughty.
3. Slice your carrot, onion, and garlic thinner than your patience for bad Wi-Fi. Toss them into a pot with 2 tablespoons of olive oil, a generous shake of salt and pepper, your sugar pinch, and the bay leaves.
4. Now, crank up that heat, and sauté like you’re on a clock—2-3 minutes, tops. You’re aiming for that pale golden glory; nobody wants veggies that have partied too hard.
5. Throw in the yellow split peas like you’ve just been waiting to. Give it all a good stir with your trusty wooden spoon, then drown everything in the bouillon and water mix. Rosemary joins the party here too because it’s fancy like that.
6. Turn the heat way down and let it simmer—low and slow. But keep an eye on it and stir, or you might end up with a burnt bottom. Nobody wants that. Let the water disappear like your paycheck, and make sure the peas are soft like your favorite blanket.
7. Take it off the heat. Say goodbye to the rosemary and bay leaves—they’ve done their part.
8. Now, smash everything up. Transfer the peas to a food processor, and add the lemon zest, lemon juice, and the remaining 4 tablespoons of olive oil. Blend until it’s smoother than a politician’s promises.
9. Serve it up like a pro. Top with roasted cherry tomatoes and roasted onions. Drizzle with olive oil, grind some fresh pepper on top, and if you’re feeling extra, add a sprinkle of fresh thyme for dramatic effect.

And there you have it. The perfect yellow split pea dish to confuse your friends into thinking you’re a kitchen god.

Side Dish

Mediterranean

fava, Greek fava, traditional Greek cuisine

Fun Fact: Fava’s Got Regional Drama

Here’s where things get a bit nerdy (but totally worth it). You’ve got the famous Fava Santorinis, a dish made from local seeds grown in volcanic soil on Santorini and nearby islands. Spanish vetchling seeds give this fava its signature slightly sweet flavor. Bonus trivia: archaeologists found traces of fava in Santorini dating back thousands of years. Even our ancient ancestors had good taste.

But Santorini’s not the whole story. Elsewhere—places like Schinoussa, Limnos, and Feneos—the split-pea party continues. The Schinoussa variety, made from an obscure Cycladic pea called Katsouni, has its own cool backstory. It’s been grown on the island since settlers from Amorgos brought it over in the 19th century. And get this—pirates reportedly had something to do with the development of local pea populations. Because why wouldn’t they?

Oh, and Katsouni peas are so special that they’re being evaluated for PDO certification (aka fancy legal protection that screams “Buy our peas; they’re legit!”). It turns out that growing legumes on dry, rocky islands is kind of brilliant. These crops thrive in hot weather, mild winters, and barely-there rain. They’re high in protein (22%, to be exact) and can be stored for a ridiculously long time after harvest. Talk about resilience, just like the locals.

Nutrition: Yellow Split Peas Are Overachievers

Not only are yellow split peas the backbone of multiple cuisines—but they’re also nutritional powerhouses on the down-low. A single cup packs:

• 16 grams of protein: Perfect for anyone cutting back on meat but still wanting gains.
• 41 grams of carbs: The good kind—slow-digesting, high-fiber carbs that keep you full and focused.
• 16 grams of fiber: That’s half your daily requirement in one serving.
• All the fancy vitamins and minerals like magnesium, folate, and iron.

Sure, they’re not a “complete” protein—cue the sad violin. But pair split peas with rice and veggies, and you’ll get a fully rounded amino acid profile. It’s like a culinary puzzle you didn’t know you needed.

The Slow Carb Sell

If carbs freak you out, relax. The carbs in split peas are “slow” carbs, meaning they take their sweet time breaking down. No sugar spikes, no crashes. Instead, you get steady energy that makes other snacks seem lazy by comparison. The fiber also helps keep your gut in check and grants you that virtuous “I’m eating healthy” glow.

When it comes down to it, you’re not just eating fava—you’re eating a nutrient-packed classic that tastes way fancier than it is.

Conclusion: Eat Your Fava and Enjoy It

Yellow split peas don’t sound like the sexiest thing to slap on your Instagram feed, but fava does. Whether topped with onions and capers or blended into creamy perfection, this dish has been a staple of Greek cuisine for centuries—for good reason. Just don’t confuse it with fava beans (a different thing entirely) or disrespect its humble origins.

If you ever find yourself sitting under a grapevine arbor in Greece with a bowl of fava and a glass of ouzo or raki, just know you’re participating in a tradition as old as civilization itself. And honestly, isn’t that better than some overpriced avocado toast?