Dear Fava Beans,
I just harvested you from the garden. You’ve grown so well as a fall crop and I promise that I’ll do better with supporting you next spring to keep you off the ground. You sure love the cooler weather, I felt so badly for your earlier crop, when it was so hot in the late spring and early summer and you wilted as you strived to bring your pods lovingly to term. Remember when I picked you then and told you how I had bought you by accident thinking you were pole bean seeds. I had even planted you around those bloody tall poles and then wondered “what the hell” a couple of weeks later. Not that I told anyone else about that. I ransacked the seed treasure chest for the empty bean package and learned that broad beans are Fava beans and they don’t vine. Well duh! I had never eaten you before but I solemnly promised you that I would. Knowing you so much better now, I feel that I can tell you now that I was secretly doubtful, I mean I hadn’t heard much raving about Favas over my life to date. I trolled the interwebs for instructions, amazed at the amount of fava porn just sitting there for everyone to see. I eventually decided to steam you first to soften up your outer layer for easy peeling and then just a quick sauté in butter so I could taste just you without the influence of garlic. I gently released you from your pillowy outer pods first amazed by your lovely shade of green and the softness of your bed. The photos of that time together are below, sadly you were so tasty I forgot to take your final buttery picture in those small Chinese bowls, we just slurped up your salty, creamy nuttiness in about 10 seconds flat and sat back and sighed. We carried on about all the years we had been missing out. We had another drink in your honour.
I tried to grow you again in the summer but I guess it was too hot. I was sad at our failed relationship. Anyway, it’s all good, we’re together again now. No hard feelings. And damn but you’re looking fine on my new kitchen counter. xoxo until next spring.