toast and peanut butter with tea

The theme for the next Is My Blog Burning?, in which I've always meant to participate but somehow always missed the deadline, is beans. Oh no. How to choose between the multitude of wonderful dishes involving any kind of legume at all?



Is it megadarra, the Middle Eastern 'poor man's food' that is one of the great comfort foods ever? or cassoulet, daring the multitude of hardened opinions over how it should be made? or the green bean and rare seared tuna stir-fry I encountered once in Biarritz? or my mother's lentil soup? her butter bean soup? any of her soups (they all seem to include a bean)? or St John pork and lentils? or japanese sweet aduki bean soup and dumplings? or any of the million good things to do with a chickpea? The list goes on but I'm almost daunted by the size of the field.



Beans are great, beans are cheap, beans are nutritious, yet I'm irresistibly reminded of the song of the chefs in Britten's opera Paul Bunyan, where the two cooks can only do soup (Sam Sharkey) or beans (Ben Benny) and the whole camp becomes utterly tired of them...

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