How’s that for a come on? I know, you can barely resist.
Beans. They’re so sexy. Just the word “beans” makes me think of bearded guys in overalls sitting around a fire under a viaduct. Or white kids with dreads in the kitchen of a grime and patchouli frosted “co-op.”
Or at least that’s what beans made me think of till right around the end of August. Which is when the beans I planted on my terrace began to flower. The flowers are so delicate and plentiful. And the beans themselves — oh, how beautiful they are!
I’ve got three varieties going: Maxibel Haricot Vert Beans, Gold Rush Wax Beans, and Royal Burgundy Bush Beans. And I can’t say enough good things about them.
First of all, they’re all “bush bean” varieties, as opposed to climbing beans, which means that I haven’t had to worry about building any support structures. They grow to their full height of twenty four inches or so without toppling over at all. And then, can we just discuss color? Green beans are lovely, but throwing some purple and yellow beans in there makes for such a beautiful medley. Sadly, the Royal Burgundy beans lose their color when they’re cooked (they turn a deep green), but instead of white flowers, their blooms are purple, and the beans themselves are like deep purple commas, drooping from their stems. The yellow beans seem to almost shimmer in the twilight. Beans: so sexy.
The flavor of all three varieties is great as well. I’ve been either snipping them into thirds and throwing them into curries or blistering them in a pan with just a little butter. Are you growing beans this year? Comments, please. I’m serious — I want to talk about beans.