Favas and Rhubarb

This morning, when the sun was still shining, before the gray clouds and skirt raising winds settled in, I shucked a couple pounds of fava beans from their fuzzy pods. I plucked them from their cocoons and tossed them into a pot of ocean-salty boiling water for just a minute. Then each and every bean took a dip in a frigid ice bath to shock them out of their thick, leathery skins. Usually the bright green inner beans need a little nudge to set them free. Once peeled, I slipped the beans into succotash made with my own homemade butter, fresh Georgia corn, South Carolina zucchini, and half an onion. I’m not sure where the onion was grown, but I’m pretty sure I sequestered it from the take-home fridge at work.

I ate the succotash topped with an over-easy egg (as I do most meals these days) and a salad topped with rhubarb pickles and tossed with carrot top pesto vinaigrette. I packed thin spears of ‘barb into a pint jar; poured a boiling brine of apple cider vinegar, honey, mustard, and coriander over; and let them sit in the fridge to cure for about a week. I think the rhubarb was a little old when I bought it because the pickles tend to be annoyingly stringy unless they are diced before eating.

For a snack, I stirred the rest of my honey-rhubarb compote into a bit of greek yogurt and slurped juice from almost overripe strawberries. Despite the weather, my food tastes like late spring.

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