Go Broad Beans Go!
Oh. my. word. The first broad beans - the size of my smallest fingernail - are out. This is somewhat premature. I know. But the many books that are piled up beside my bed are always saying how wonderful it is if you grow your own beans, as you can pick them young and tiny, rather than huge and leathery.
Of course, the disadvantage of picking them young is that you get less podded weight (if you see what I mean) - a couple more weeks would allow them to fill out more. I mean, will allow them to fill out more. Because we do intend to let them grow properly now for a bit, before attacking them again.
But we couldn't resist a bagful on Saturday. Softened in butter with pine nuts and chopped sage, then stirred through spaghetti with crumbled feta, they were absolutely wonderful. Some wilted rocket would be a good addition to this.
2 handfuls broad beans - podded
1tbsp butter
2tbsp chopped sage
2tbsp pine nuts
100g crumbled feta
Spaghetti for 2 scant portions - cooked
Soften butter, throw in sage and pine nuts, then broad beans (pod alongside the pan). When the beans begin to change colour, immediately add the cooked spaghetti and stir to heat. Finally crumble in the feta - it will melt and vanish - and serve at once on hot plates.
Small they may be, but (if you make the effort to pick out a single bean while eating) each one tastes like Essence of Broad Bean. All the flavour's here: it just hasn't spread out into a larger surface area yet. Yum, yum, yum.
And this isn't intended to become a blog about growing, but I must also tell you about Oriental Saladini. We have tried growing lettuces before - Cos, Lollo Rossa, Arctic King, and numerous others - with no success whatsoever. But this Saladini mixture has come up trumps. It's Cut and Come Again, so you only need a strip of soil - sow thinly, and wait about 6 weeks before the first cut (possibly less time, now it's warmer). (If growing in the garden, try to choose a spot without nearby rocks or nooks where slugs gather. And surround each row, diligently, with used coffee grounds - this really works!) It's a lovely mixture of leaves, some soft and buttery, some peppery, some lime-green, some red. Alongside, if any more space is available to you, I'd recommend Swiss Chard - one of the coloured varieties - beautiful with its sunny stems. Then Rocket, any type, which is a truly trustworthy choice that never fails.
Okay. that's it. No more gardening stuff, at least until my pictures are downloaded!
Showing posts with label broad beans. Show all posts
Showing posts with label broad beans. Show all posts
Monday, May 19, 2008
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
DROOLING OVER THE BROAD BEANS
It's our first year growing our own, and among the very earliest crops are the Broad Beans. They're getting tantalisingly close to readiness now; we've split and shared a few pods already. The beans cushioned inside are about quarter of the size of my thumbnail - teeny weeny little greens with an amazingly intense broad-bean flavour, and soft as if they'd been cooked. I wouldn't compare them with peas because it's a more savoury sweetness, a bit like parmesan somehow.
they're surprisingly high-yielding, too (at least I think they will be) - we've planted two rows of 12ft (30cm apart); each small, dry bean has produced two or three sturdy stems which flourished in the early spring and are preparing to provide us with two dozen pods each, I should think. And so, if you have a little space in your garden, this is one of the first crops I'd recommend. Broad beans, being one of the earliest producers, have all the excitement that surrounds our first summer veg (asparagus and new potatoes being similar). And - I'm ahead of myself - but they're already delicious.
So yes: please find a space for some next year. Sown in autumn, they are spectacularly low-maintenance - they'd grown big enough to keep the weeds from growing underfoot in spring - and promise much.
I'm flipping through books for recipes, now, and have bookmarked Broad Bean Pilaf from 'Vegetarian Dishes from the Middle East'. Think that Nigel Slater has a bean puree with flatbreads in The Kitchen Diaries, too. And Moro East will surely have something exciting for me to try. But I think these wonderful beans are best scantily adorned: maybe mashed with olive oil and wet garlic to spread on focaccia. Or, for this first harvest, perhaps we'll have a salad of just-steamed-and-shelled beans with freshly-cut Oriental Saladini and rocket. And guess what? We could even pull up some miniature potatoes, if we were feeling naughty. We accidentally discovered that they're already forming - even if they are pea-sized - and I am soooo tempted to sample them.
Photos coming very soon, really. I'm borrowing a cable this weekend, so prepare to be swamped with photographs of very clever little peas and gooseberry plants. They are my baby substitutes, but better, because I can alternate between having favourites.
It's our first year growing our own, and among the very earliest crops are the Broad Beans. They're getting tantalisingly close to readiness now; we've split and shared a few pods already. The beans cushioned inside are about quarter of the size of my thumbnail - teeny weeny little greens with an amazingly intense broad-bean flavour, and soft as if they'd been cooked. I wouldn't compare them with peas because it's a more savoury sweetness, a bit like parmesan somehow.
they're surprisingly high-yielding, too (at least I think they will be) - we've planted two rows of 12ft (30cm apart); each small, dry bean has produced two or three sturdy stems which flourished in the early spring and are preparing to provide us with two dozen pods each, I should think. And so, if you have a little space in your garden, this is one of the first crops I'd recommend. Broad beans, being one of the earliest producers, have all the excitement that surrounds our first summer veg (asparagus and new potatoes being similar). And - I'm ahead of myself - but they're already delicious.
So yes: please find a space for some next year. Sown in autumn, they are spectacularly low-maintenance - they'd grown big enough to keep the weeds from growing underfoot in spring - and promise much.
I'm flipping through books for recipes, now, and have bookmarked Broad Bean Pilaf from 'Vegetarian Dishes from the Middle East'. Think that Nigel Slater has a bean puree with flatbreads in The Kitchen Diaries, too. And Moro East will surely have something exciting for me to try. But I think these wonderful beans are best scantily adorned: maybe mashed with olive oil and wet garlic to spread on focaccia. Or, for this first harvest, perhaps we'll have a salad of just-steamed-and-shelled beans with freshly-cut Oriental Saladini and rocket. And guess what? We could even pull up some miniature potatoes, if we were feeling naughty. We accidentally discovered that they're already forming - even if they are pea-sized - and I am soooo tempted to sample them.
Photos coming very soon, really. I'm borrowing a cable this weekend, so prepare to be swamped with photographs of very clever little peas and gooseberry plants. They are my baby substitutes, but better, because I can alternate between having favourites.
Monday, June 11, 2007
PENNE WITH BROAD BEANS AND PESTO
1lb broad beans, podded
1 large bunch basil
1tbsp pine kernels
1tbsp parmesan, finely grated
1tbsp olive oil
Fresh pepper
Penne (enough for two)
1tbsp single cream
Extra parmesan to shave over the top
Put the broad beans into a pan of hot water and bring to the boil. When they reach simmering point, leave for about 20 seconds, then switch off. Tip the beans into a colander over the sink and leave to cool.
Make the pesto: you can use a food processor, but this is how it's traditionally done. (Make sure the basil is really, really fresh and fragrant - if the scent doesn't waft out of the bag, put it to use decorating a different pasta dish*, or shred it into an Italian salad.) Pound half the pine kernels with half the basil in a pestle and mortar, then remove to a plate. Pound the remaining basil and kernels, and put the first batch back into the bowl. Add fresh pepper, a good slug of olive oil, and the finely grated parmesan, and stir until it looks like pesto.
Drop the penne into boiling water and simmer as per packet. While it's cooking, shell the broad beans, pinching off the greyish-green skin, and dropping them into the pesto. As soon as it's just cooked, drain the pasta, and return it to the pan. Stir in the cream, then add the pesto and broad beans, and mix gently. Serve with extra parmesan for those who want it.
*Steve's easy penne is good - roast a punnet of cherry tomatoes, halved. Boil penne and add a splash of balsamic vinegar, a splash of cream, the tomatoes, the shredded basil, and plenty of salt and pepper.
1lb broad beans, podded
1 large bunch basil
1tbsp pine kernels
1tbsp parmesan, finely grated
1tbsp olive oil
Fresh pepper
Penne (enough for two)
1tbsp single cream
Extra parmesan to shave over the top
Put the broad beans into a pan of hot water and bring to the boil. When they reach simmering point, leave for about 20 seconds, then switch off. Tip the beans into a colander over the sink and leave to cool.
Make the pesto: you can use a food processor, but this is how it's traditionally done. (Make sure the basil is really, really fresh and fragrant - if the scent doesn't waft out of the bag, put it to use decorating a different pasta dish*, or shred it into an Italian salad.) Pound half the pine kernels with half the basil in a pestle and mortar, then remove to a plate. Pound the remaining basil and kernels, and put the first batch back into the bowl. Add fresh pepper, a good slug of olive oil, and the finely grated parmesan, and stir until it looks like pesto.
Drop the penne into boiling water and simmer as per packet. While it's cooking, shell the broad beans, pinching off the greyish-green skin, and dropping them into the pesto. As soon as it's just cooked, drain the pasta, and return it to the pan. Stir in the cream, then add the pesto and broad beans, and mix gently. Serve with extra parmesan for those who want it.
*Steve's easy penne is good - roast a punnet of cherry tomatoes, halved. Boil penne and add a splash of balsamic vinegar, a splash of cream, the tomatoes, the shredded basil, and plenty of salt and pepper.
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