Showing posts with label fava beans. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fava beans. Show all posts

Saturday, July 31, 2010

Annual fava bean supper

Fava beans are cushioned in pods. The skins of each bean will slip off after blanching.

I'm not sure how many years we've celebrated the fava bean, but it's enough that it's become an anticipated summer rite. The resident head gardener plants just enough fava beans in early spring so we're assured of one or two pickings and one or two generous dinners. Last night was the first one of 2010. In looking back, we're a few days early this year. Doesn't matter, the Fava Fest is one of those roaming, non-date-dependent jubilees.

Fava beans are easy to grow but require some work to prep them for eating. Hence, one reason we only grow enough for a few suppers. I harvested the gnarly-looking pods in the morning and shelled them immediately. It's a pleasant task -- peel back the pods and see how many beans are nestled inside the soft, comforting confines. The giant pods may hold six plump parcels of fava-beany goodness. After shelling there's still more prep work before the beans are ready for cooking. During a break from weeding, I blanched the beans for several minutes in a pot of boiling water, dumped them in a bowl of ice water and slipped them out of their skins. Each individual bean is pinched at one end so the edible bean slips out easily. Pinch and slip. Pinch and slip. Pinch and slip. The skins make a lovely pile of compost fixins'. The beans go back in the fridge until it's time to make dinner.

Now the favas are ready for a quick saute in butter and seasoned with salt and pepper. Quick, out of the pan and onto the table with lamb chops, garden-fresh greens, homemade chickpea flatbread (highly recommended!) and a bottle of pinot noir. Yum!

 Fava beans take on a beautiful color after a quick saute in butter.

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Fa-va-va-va-voom: Fava beans!

A pile of de-podded fava beans ready for blanching after which their outer skins or husks will be removed. Is your mouth watering yet?

Summer Fest at A Way to Garden is focusing on beans and greens this week. We're a few days away from harvesting green beans, but the fava beans, well, that's another story.

Fava beans (Vicia faba) are among the first vegetables we sow here. They've also evolved into one of our must-grows. Not that we grow a lot of them -- just enough for a meal or two -- but it's always fun to anticipate a plate of the plump, pillowy beans.


Favas go in the ground in late April, six weeks or more before the bush beans (Phaseolus vulgaris) or the pole beans or the Chinese long beans and about the same time as the peas. We use a bacteria inoculant when we sow (You can buy the stuff at many seed/garden suppliers). Spritz the seeds with water, roll them in the inoculant and sow. The bacteria form nodules on the roots and help to fix the nitrogen from the air into a form more readily useful to a growing plant. (You can use it for other beans and peas, too.)

Favas here grow several feet tall and have very cool black and white blossoms. We grow a variety called 'Aquadulce' that we get from Stokes Seeds.These broad beans need a long, cool growing season and judging by our harvest, the cool temperatures I was complaining about earlier this summer were a boon to this year's crop. Harvest when the pods are thick and bumpy with the beans.

Once harvested, there's the matter of prepping the fava beans for cooking. Remove them from the pod and blanch them for several minutes in boiling water. Now it's time to remove their secondary husk. One by one, take each bean and squeeze one end to push the bean out of the husk. Yes, it's tedious, but not so bad if done while watching the news and having a cocktail. After this husking, all you need to do is warm them in a pan with some butter and salt. A vegetable like this doesn't need any fancy extras. If you do have leftovers (unlikely, but it can happen) try them in an omelet the next day.

Good to know: A small percentage of people have favism, an acute anemia caused by a reaction to eating fava beans or being exposed to its pollen.

The fava bean bed in May. Good things come to those who wait. We harvested in August.

A bowl of just-picked favas. We'll take them out of the pod and then shell them again before eating.


The beans cozy up to each other in the pod.


Fava beans prepared simply with butter and salt are the main attraction; peppered flatiron steak and puff pastry/blue cheese pinwheels play supporting roles.

OK, I can't resist, you've read this far -- here's the famous line.