On the Menu: Fava Beans and Carrots
While we were in Wisconsin last week, Kevin and I were treated to many meat-heavy meals. We also consumed quite a bit of Wisconsin beer and Wisconsin cheese, which made our intestines quite angry with us. It was all delicious, don’t get me wrong, but there was a serious lack of greens that needed to be remedied upon our return. This recipe is a step in that direction.
The day after we got back, we ran a host of errands and ended up at our local natural foods store. It’s a small store, but it’s good for the area we live in. I perused the tiny produce section and found a box full of fresh fava beans, prompting a squeal of glee, the surefire signal that I’ve found dinner. It wasn’t the leafy, cruciferous side I had in mind, but the pods were fresh and beautiful, and after reading about them rather often this spring, I really wanted to try them. It seems like vegetables come into season here about a month after they come into season everywhere else, which comes as no surprise as we live in the middle of Maine. I grabbed a bunch of pods and began trying to figure out what to do with them.
The thing I remembered most from reading about fava beans is that they are really tedious to prepare. I love tedious tasks in the kitchen (such as constantly stirring risotto), so I was ready to tackle the prep work for the beans. I washed the long, bright green pods and split them along their inner seam to reveal the beans inside. The eight pods I had picked up yielded just under a cup of shelled beans.
Shelling the beans was a simple enough task, but larger, older fava beans like the ones I had also need to be skinned because the skin gets tough and bitter as the beans age. This is the step that is often complained about, and I can see why. I blanched the beans by placing them in boiling water for a little under a minute then plunging them into ice water to cool. Once cooled, I used my thumbnail to cut through the tough bean skins and removed them to find emerald green fava beans inside. I didn’t mind doing this for a cup of beans, but for a large amount of beans, I would be hesitant to commit to such an undertaking.
Now, to cook those precariously prepared legumes. I had picked up two large carrots, one large leek, and a lemon at the grocery store after buying the beans. I diced the carrots, sliced the leek, minced some garlic, and sautéed this mixture in some olive oil for a few minutes until the leeks were soft and the carrots began to show the teeniest bit of give. Then I added the beans with a bit of water and simmered the vegetables until the beans and the carrots were tender, about 15 minutes. I added some lemon zest and butter at the very end for a little more flavor.
The dish turned out pretty well. There were too many carrots and too few beans, so we’ll fix that if we make fava beans this way again. The leeks were caramelized and sweet, which along with the carrots provided a great contrast to the slight bitterness of the beans. I was glad that I added the lemon zest and the butter at the end–it made a nice sauce that brought everything together really well.
Fava Beans and Carrots
inspired by the Joy of Cooking
1 cup shelled, skinned fava beans
1 large or 2 medium carrots
1 large leek, white and light green parts
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 T. olive oil
1/2 to 1 c. water
1 tablespoon butter
zest of 1/2 a lemon
Dice the carrots and thinly slice the leeks. Heat the olive oil in a medium saucepan then add the garlic, carrots, and leeks and saute until tender, 4-5 minutes. Add the fava beans and 1/2 c. water and simmer for 15-20 minutes until the carrots and beans are tender. Watch the water level and add more as necessary, keeping in mind that almost all of the water should be gone when the vegetables are finished cooking. When cooked through, add the butter and the lemon zest and stir to coat.




Yum, I would enjoy some fava beans right about now. I’m much too tuckered out to haul myself over to the NLC today, though. Traveling is ty-uh-ring.
Glad someone enjoys the NLC:) Actually, I’m pretty sure everyone enjoys it except for me. Me and my nit-picky dreams of shopping at a co-op.