I had a bag of pearled barley sitting in my pantry for literally years. Unlike my interlude with quinoa, my decision to open that bag was influenced by a serious case of Mother Hubbard’s Cupboard.
The word “barley” always sounded like an herb to me, not a grain. When I bought the stuff, I was surprised to see that it looked like fat rice. I figured at some point I’d add it to soup, and that is exactly what I did.
My final soup product was incredibly hearty with black eyed peas, numerous veggies and the cooked barley.
Problem was, I’d made way more barley than I needed. It just sat in the fridge while the rest of my food supply continued to dwindle as we approached pay day.
