“Pea soup,” declared old Mr. Underhill, “is a lucky thing to eat as the year turns. And mine,” with the wooden paddle in his hands he tapped the huge iron kettle in which his wife had always boiled their clothes but that now blurped thickly, “is the best in the whole of the Shire!”
It certainly smelled good to Frodo and young Sam.
“I ‘ve three hambones in there, and nigh a bushel o’ sweet carrots as I got from your dad,” the old Hobbit advised the younger of his guests. He leaned forward to whisper, “And some fine mushrooms!”