Sometimes, good things do come in small packages. Small, rectangular, frozen packages, to be specific.

Take frozen peas. At first glance, they seem like a mere facsimile of farm-fresh ones, a convenient substitute for people who lack the patience (or the porch) necessary to shell peas. But though it’s hard to imagine reaching into the freezer for a vegetable now that it’s officially spring, permit me to plead my case.

When it comes to peas, youthful vigor is key. Problem is, fresh peas are often allowed to mature too long (you can tell by their bulging pods), and their delicate sweetness goes straight to starch. Even if they are picked at the right time, they usually sit around – on the truck, in the market, in the fridge – and their flavor fades anyway.

Frozen peas, on the other hand, manage to retain much more of their sweetness than the average spring pea. They’re usually frozen right after harvest, which arrests the sugar-into-starch process and preserves the bright green color. As a fringe benefit, there’s no laborious podding or thawing. Just throw them straight from the freezer into whatever you’re making.

Though you can eat frozen peas year-round, spring is still the best time to take advantage of them. An electric-green pureed pea soup, swirled with a bit of cream, is spring in a bowl, especially when it’s served barely warm, rather than hot or cold. And as a nice side benefit, you don’t need to chase peas around the plate with your fork.

Just simmer frozen peas for five or 10 minutes in chicken broth with half a cup of chopped onion, let cool, and then puree with a bit of milk or cream. For a more nuanced flavor, simply add a handful of chopped greens in the last few minutes of cooking – from peppery arugula to delicate romaine. Crunchy little garlic toasts taste especially good alongside.

Though frozen peas may come from the wrong side of the supermarket, they manage to play very well with other innocent, unfrozen spring vegetables. Combine thin asparagus and fresh morels with peas, shallots, and cream to make a dish that toes the line between a saute and a stew: a ragout. The textures stay distinct, but the flavors merge into a flavor that’s pure spring. And of course, if you can’t find fresh morels, just soak some dried ones in hot water.

If you do happen to come across an irresistible pile of fresh, fragrant peas in the pod, by all means use them. But heaven forbid, don’t cook them.

I happen to think not nearly enough people indulge in the sheer pleasure of raw peas. My sister and I used to go through mountains of them, using our fingers to hurry the peas straight from the pod into our mouths. My sister loved the flavor so much she’d even chomp on the pods. Once cooked, that pearly sugar disappears, and even the best fresh peas end up tasting pretty much like the frozen ones.

But if you’re not inclined to eat plain raw peas, just treat cooked ones with almost as much restraint. There’s plenty of time later in the year to simmer peas with tomato and cumin or toss them with bacon and goat cheese. Right now, fresh or frozen, peas plus cream and butter equals spring.

Spring Pea and Lettuce Soup

1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 medium onion, chopped
1 shallot, chopped
2 10-ounce boxes of frozen peas
3 cups chicken broth, homemade or low sodium canned
1 cup roughly chopped romaine lettuce
1/2 cup heavy cream or half and half, plus more to serve
Salt

In a medium saucepan, heat the butter over medium heat until melted. Add the onion and shallot and saute for 8 to 10 minutes, or until softened. Add the frozen peas and the broth and simmer for about 10 minutes, or until the peas are almost tender. Add the lettuce and simmer for another couple of minutes, just until nicely wilted.

Take the saucepan off the heat and let the soup cool until it’s no longer steaming. Add the cream and puree with a regular or immersion blender. Taste and add salt if you like. Let cool until barely warm, then swirl in some cream to serve.