Starters A
S KIDS, WE think beans are born in a can: the baked variety, naturally, but red kidney beans and broad beans too. Certainly, the broad bean’s
summer months season is so short it’s not difficult to see the appeal of drying, canning or freezing these sweet and creamy delights for year-round noshing, but they’re at their best right now, fresh, smooth, bittersweet and truly delicious. It’s a bean with many names: field bean,
bell bean, tic bean and – most often in the United States – the fava bean, as so enthusiastically enjoyed by Dr Hannibal Lecter, accompanied by a nice Chianti and some protein we can’t quite recall. As a species we’ve been eating Vicia faba for ages – hardy, resistant to cold, able to grow in rubbish conditions, like clay or excessively salty soil, they’re a crop that’s very difficult to screw up. Folk were wolfing down an early version of these things on the shores of the Mediterranean (they’re native to North Africa) around the 6th millennium BC, at least, and, inevitably, we’ve created many cultivars – chief amongst them, the classic broad bean, designed mostly for human consumption, and the smaller, even hardier horse (or field) bean, commonly used in animal feed, but which has its homo sapien fans, too. Because we’ve been eating them so long –
it’s hard to think of much we’ve been growing for longer – broad beans have picked up a rich history of superstition, habit and unusual usages along the way. When we say “not worth a bean”, or vote using white or black markers put into a pot, it’s the broad bean that’s somewhere at the heart of it. In many parts of Italy, a broad bean is carried for good luck – it’s a reminder of some ancient Sicilian crop failure, when the people survived on beans alone. (In fact, they love them in the south of Italy – in Puglia, the heel bit, they purée them with wild chicory.) In parts of Africa they’re associated with religious festivals and times of mourning. All across Europe and North Africa,
regions have their own favourite bean feast: with smoked pork in Luxembourg, with winter savoury and butter in Holland, in Portuguese Christmas cake. Being native to some parts of Asia, a rich tradition has grown up around them there, too – they’re all over Sichuan cuisine (notably teamed with chill peppers and soybeans in spicy doubanjiang paste); they’re eaten with onion, garlic, parsley and lemon juice in the popular Egyptian/Sudanese breakfast dish Ful medames; they’re teamed with rice or
crumbsmag.com
eggs (duck mostly) in Iran; and a flour made from them is key to much of the Ethiopian repertoire, too.
YOU CAN EAT your broad beans pod and all (if they’re young, soft and thin enough) or, more usually, with the pods removed; they’re at their best from the end of May until mid-July, when the beans are still small and pale. Cooking is simplicity itself: only a brief steaming, boiling or sautéing is required with these first ones, but even an older shelled bean doesn’t take too long. They work well with a little butter and any number of herbs (try tarragon, basil, mint or dill), and team up delightfully with every meat we can think of (certainly lamb, pork, chicken, fish, ham) either as a side dish, or as part of some stew (the Greeks pair them with artichokes – try it). With chorizo in a risotto they’re one of our go-to recipes. Mashed and sharpened with lemon juice,
they work well as a dip; frying them, pod and all, works also – just chuck some salt or spice in there to make a crunchy finger food. Health-wise, it’s a mixed bag; for most
of us, that broad beans are rich in L-dopa – a chemical useful in the control of Parkinson’s disease – is nothing but good news, but for some they can cause favism, a disorder involving the rupture of red blood cells and the release of their fluid into the plasma. (The followers of Pythagoras in the 5th-century BC avoided beans – possibly to avoid favism, but also because they believed people and beans were made of the same stuff. Of course, they advised that male/female sex should be restricted to the winter months only too, so we can perhaps safely put their views to one side.)
9 Broad bean
bruschetta (SERVES 2)
INGREDIENTS
2 slices of sourdough (or your favourite loaf) rapeseed oil
150g podded broad beans 2 tbsp créme fraîche
2 tbsp fresh mint, chopped lemon juice 1 garlic clove
75g feta or a salty goat’s cheese (optional)
METHOD
– Lightly drizzle the rapeseed oil over the sliced bread and toast
under the grill, until golden and crisp on both sides.
– Quickly blanch the broad beans in boiling water for 2-3 minutes until
just tender.Drain and refresh in cold water immediately. Shell the broad beans of their tough outer layer. – Roughly crush the beans with
a fork and stir through the créme
fraîche and chopped mint. Season generously with salt and pepper and lemon juice to taste.
–While the toast is still hot, rub
briskly with the garlic clove. Top with the bean dip and sprinkle with any remaining mint and the crumbled cheese, if using.
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