Shell Yeah

09.05.07
Fresh beans are so good you can’t believe they’re not bacon.

We had the winemaker Randall Grahm over for dinner the other night. Wine people, you know, are always thinking and talking about flavor, and Randall wanted to know about some fresh beans I served with grilled bread. “These are really meaty and rich. There’s pork in here, isn’t there? A little bacon or pancetta?” No, I assured him, just the beans, garlic, olive oil, herbs, and salt. I can’t help but confess to a secret thrill at making something delicious enough to have fooled such a sophisticated palate.

Shell beans are the fresh versions of the dried beans that are sold dried year-round, but they’re easier to cook and, to my taste, more flavorful when fresh. They come in a huge range of colors, sizes, and shapes, and they have great names, too: cranberry bean (the Italians call them borlotti) fat in their red-speckled pods; creamy Jacob’s Cattle, which are spotted like cows; rich limas; and tiny, earthy Crowder peas.

Franca at Berried Treasures Farm takes as much delight in selling the odd varieties as I do in experimenting with them. I buy some of whatever she’s selling this week and take them home, cook them, and leave them in the fridge until inspiration strikes. The cooking takes attention but no technique: I gently simmer each variety separately in water until the beans are just cooked through, but before they start bursting. Then I add salt (not earlier, since that would make the skins tough), and wait five minutes or so before cooling and draining them.

The beans I served Randall were simply cooked and then seasoned with garlic cooked through in olive oil, more oil, and a generous amount of chopped summer savory, an herb with a particular affinity for beans. I’m a big fan of succotash, too, by which I mean some combination of beans, fresh corn, peppers, and onions sautéed together. A bed of that succotash and a roasted pork chop or a piece of roast chicken is one of the best summer meals I can imagine. By the time Indian summer rolls around I’ll make a soupe au pistou—a Provençal soup combining the best of summer (zucchini, tomatoes, and peppers) and fall (potatoes, carrots, and celery), with a starring role for two or more kinds of beans and a garnish of pesto stirred in right before serving for sheer indulgence. Absolutely delicious—and no pork required.

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