Magic Beans

It has been a while since I have tackled a keyboard and attempted to jot down much of anything. I could say that I have been busy, or lazy, or apathetic...all would be true and also none of them are true.  Sometimes I just  discontinue projects for a time and then come back when the mood strikes, or winter does....whatever it takes to find myself with a little more time and a few thoughts to ponder.

In this case it is beans.

"Beans, beans, they're good for your heart. 

The more you eat, the more you fart. 

The more you fart, the better you feel. 

We should all eat beans at every meal."

This little rhyme, sadly enough, is what is typically trapped in my head from about June until sometime in September because one of the main focuses of the summer season is.....beans.

I can't say that beans are exactly my favorite crop (that honor goes to garlic), but they certainly are a useful one.

They are good early in the season as green beans  At this stage we pick them and eat them almost as fast as we are able and the ones we don't eat, we freeze for winter's lean months.  But, if you get busy and don't get them picked, they dry well and then you can eat them that way too.
They are a forgiving crop and ridiculously easy to grow, and in my life, that counts for a lot.

Beans come in more varieties than I would ever care to name, but there are somewhere in the neighborhood of 40,000 different varieties of beans.  Of course you wouldn't know that living in Iowa....here there seems to only be one....soybean.

Personally, I grow three different varieties - two of them I plant on purpose (one pole and one bush) and the third one is a freelance pole bean that self seeds and sprouts every year and then I just transplant it to where I want it to grow.  My main producer, however is the bush bean known as Black Valentine.  It is a dual purpose bean that makes nice green beans as well as a wonderful dried black bean.  What is the difference between a bush bean and a pole bean? One grows as a bush and one will trail and spiral its way up a tall pole.  In tight spaces the pole beans are nice, but when you have more space and don't want to have to deal with a pole or trellis, bush beans are optimal.

When asking people today where they get their cooking beans, I am almost universally met with a blank stare followed by some line amounting to, "well, we just use canned beans from the store," and then they look at me as though I am just not quite right in the head, I mean, where else would a person get beans, right?  Once again, people have forgotten how ubiquitous beans used to be.

Beans are one of the crops that have been cultivated the longest.  Native Americans would grow them together with corn and squash in a "three sisters" planting - using each of those three plant's best qualities to help the other two grow well. The colonies, and particularly Boston, perfected the baked bean.  From the colonies they were hauled overland in covered wagons and were a large percentage of the diet of the early pioneers - they were high in protein and fiber, transported well, grew well and could be saved for incredibly long periods of time. No cowboy dinner would be complete without a plate full of beans, and what kind of Mexican restaurant would it be without refried beans on the side?

 But chances are, if I put five beans in the palm of a person's hand today, they wouldn't know where to start with growing or cooking them.

So let's start at the beginning.  Someone gives you five magic beans....what do you do?

These beans - they are a fairly large seed in and of themselves.  Easy for even small children to plant.
1/2 - 1 inch down in the ground and roughly 6 -8 inches apart.

Keep them weeded.  Invite your friends to help.

Pick them green when the pods are long and full, but before the seeds inside start to mature.  They should "snap" easily in half - crisp and tender.  At this stage they can be steamed for 7 - 12 minutes until they are bright green and just slightly tender.  Seasoned with salt and butter, they are likely the first vegetables to be devoured at dinner.

Miss a week or two of picking the green beans, but keep the weeds down and then let the pods start to turn light tan and dry.  If you thought you had a lot of green beans, just wait until the dried beans start to show up.  I usually give myself some sort of limit as to how long I will pick each day.  I typically pick one pillowcase sized sack full any time I have a free hour or so.  This is when that little rhyme sets up shop in my brain and refuses to leave until I find myself simply singing it while kneeling in my bean patch.... this can become a monotonous job, but then again, watching a sun set or watching a summer storm quietly build while picking is more meditative than monotonous. And communing with the bees and the beetles as well as the occasional visit from my ducks waddling through would often make this one of the more contemplative jobs that had to be done.

After each picking, I dump the bag's worth of beans out on my porch to dry. And by dry, I mean the pods have to be so dry that they crack open with relatively little pressure and reveal a dried, black (or brown, or spotted depending on the type) inside. Sometimes this drying takes a day or two and sometimes weeks.  It is also largely dependent on whether or not I have time to deal with them - beans drying in the sun are amazingly patient.

When the time is right, pack them back into the bag you picked them with....I know this sounds redundant, but bear with me.

Jump up and down on the bag and then dump them into a large bowl or pail. (My littlest kids think this is great fun) Set up a large house fan on high and, while standing in front of the fan, slowly dump the beans from one pail into another with the air blowing away the chaff.  This takes time, but slowly, by crushing the remaining pods and winnowing out the chaff, a hill of beans will emerge.  I can usually spend an evening winnowing beans on my porch and end up with 3 - 5 pounds of relatively clean beans by the time the sun sets.

At this point I usually take the bowl of beans into the house and find a movie that I know by heart and sit down to sort through them by hand to pick out the "bad" ones.  This is a completely mindless task, but one that, for one reason or another, is also very soothing - probably because the "finished" beans are so pretty and fun to sink your hands into.

I know....I know....this is a lot of work for a measly hill of beans, but now...those 5 magic beans have become hundreds (if not thousands) of beautiful, protein rich beans that can be saved and eaten through the winter in soups, stews, or even as a most amazing black bean dip.  On average, for a family of 7 people, we will have several gallon jugs filled as well as a 3-4 quart jars.  These, then, become the staple in chili, ham and bean soup, black bean dip and baked beans.

To cook:  Take 1 cup of dried beans and cover with water - place in the fridge overnight to soften. Then, to cook, put in a pot with water and boil until they are soft being sure not to let the water completely boil off.  Drain the beans (or don't - depending on the recipe) and use in whatever bean recipe strikes your fancy.  This really is ridiculously easy but it does require time and a little planning ahead.

Black Bean Dip

   1 cup black beans boiled and soft 

(reserve some of the fluid they were boiled in)

1 -2 cloves of garlic

fresh cilantro

salt to taste

Mix the cooked black beans and roughly 1/2 cup of the water they were boiled in, the garlic cloves, cilantro and salt into a blender or food processor and mix until smooth (adding more water if necessary to make a bean dip consistency)  Salt to taste and eat with tortilla chips.

I make a batch of this and it is gone before it has time to cool off with hungry kids around.

These beans, these magic beans, are magic in so many ways.  Not only do they provide and incredible food source, but while they are growing, their roots bind nitrogen in the soil and help it to become more fertile.  They are a restorative crop and one that I plant in areas where the soil was plundered by other crops the last year - crops such as corn which are horribly greedy plants that strip the ground of its nutrients to produce a huge plant that supplies only 2 small ears of edible goodness.  Beans, relative to their size produce more edible produce than many of the other plants in the garden.

 Yes, they take time to plant, and cultivate, and harvest and dry and process and cook.  But there is some magic in that time as well  - sunsets watched, rain clouds rejoiced, bees observed, kids laughing and playing rhyming games while weeding, a teenager helping to make bean dip- a connection to the earth, each other, the plants and the food that you grow and harvest with your own hands.  There is a strange sort of connectedness in that process.

Not only do they feed the ground and the body ....they feed the soul.  Magic indeed.

Seeds of Change

This is, quite possibly, my favorite time of year.  Now that most things are finished growing (including the weeds), most of the harvest has taken place except for my tomato plants (which seem to have some delusion of immortality this year and persist in staying green on the vine for weeks), and life settles down into the dull roar of trying to get the farm ready for winter.  But there is one job left to be done....picking out and saving next year's garden.

As a kid,  I always thought that seeds needed to be purchased every year.  It was just what we did each spring - looked at the seed catalog and either ordered them or picked them up at the local do-it-yourself store, and while this always seemed to work, it never dawned on me that nature does a pretty good job of doing this for herself.

Almost everything in the garden produces a seed of one type or another that contains within it all the genetic information to pass on to the next generation of seeds.  Amazingly packaged into a tiny capsule that will often survive through a harsh winter and burst forth in the spring with no more than a little coaxing from sun and rain.  What astounds me even more is how, over the course of the last eight years, I have watched many of the species of plants that I like to grow, adapt themselves to this environment and take hold.  Nature's ability to adapt and survive amazes me.  Take the Impatient for example:  Most of these brightly colored, shade loving flowers are hybrids that originated in Africa - and it is a lot warmer in Africa than it is here so they are not expected to survive even a light frost - and yet, I have found that a few of my Impatient plants that I planted two years ago formed seeds that were able to reproduce viable plants and, what's more, they can now overwinter in an Iowa winter. 

My marigolds have literally taken over the gardens and though I curse them in the spring when they appear everywhere, I am happy to have them around at this time of year because they are hardy and can stand up to these chilly nights.  I used to collect these seeds, but now I just let them seed themselves and then I move them in the spring to the places that I want them.

Finding the seeds of any plant is typically not to difficult.  Peas and beans are easy, but I always chuckle in the spring when we are planting them and one of my kids stops and peers at the seed in their hands and says, "Hey mom, these look just like the peas we eat."  The most difficult thing I have found with peas and beans is the importance of not eating all of them - some have to be saved back for seed and usually it is best to pick the nicest looking of the plants to save.

Lettuce can be a bit more difficult to determine what is the seed, but that is only because we don't allow the lettuce plant to typically live out its entire life cycle - we eat it in its young and tender teenage stage.  After it gets too bitter to eat and starts to bolt, it will then form a weird looking flower and then those start to go to seed - save those and you will have lettuce seeds for next year.

Sometimes figuring out where the seed is on a flower takes a little time and observation.  So many gardeners will tell you to "dead head" things that are no longer blooming, which is fine but then you often miss out on the seeds.  Personally, I think this is a bit of marketing on the part of the nurseries that grow flowers - they would rather people didn't get their own seeds because then it cuts in on their business so they tell us to do things like remove spent flowers.  Yes, it makes your flowers look prettier, but then they don't reproduce, and there are several plants that have fairly interesting looking seed pods that you would otherwise miss if you cut them off as instructed.

 There are many horticulturists that will tell you that many of the flowers we buy, or seeds we buy are hybrids and will not produce "true" seeds, and this is entirely true.....the first few years.  But, what I have discovered, often through benign neglect, is that flowers and plants, if given half a chance, will revert back to a more natural variety that does produce seeds true to form.  I am often reminded of the line in Jurassic Park when Malcolm says to the scientists, "Life finds a way" and he is entirely correct.

So, I meander around the garden and pick a handful or two of seeds off of the flowers, or I cut open the nicest looking tomato and, before throwing it in the pot, I scoop out a few hundred seeds for next year.  Some of the plants I simply watch ripen and dry and then shake the seeds out where I want them next year and others I simply let fall and plan on moving them to a new location after they sprout. 



A seed is both a plant's last and final hurrah before being annihilated by winter, and it's boundless hope for the future.  It will have absolutely no knowledge of whether or not what it produced will ever come to fruition, but it produces them just the same.  And I collect them.  I am the bridge to the future for many plants - keeping them warm and dry through the cold winter months and them scattering them in the spring to start over.  And they, in their turn, take care of me and provide me with a bridge to my future in the form of food. 

There have been times, when stuck indoors studying for genetics tests, when I have wondered how Gregor Mendel, the Austrian Monk that established the basics for genetics, could have spent countless days and seasons watching pea plants.....now I understand.

And So It Begins....

It's March....at last. We have finally reached that magic "6-8 weeks before the last frost" range. Time to start the spring planting.

Most traditional farmers won't be in their field yet until sometime in April or May. I never claimed to be traditional....I bring the dirt inside.

It is almost frightening how simple it is to grow things. A little seed, soil, water, sunshine and love and you have yourself meals for a year. So, on a sunny Sunday I pulled out of the cupboard all the seeds that I had saved for the year and sorted through them. There are the piles of seeds that need to be directly seeded in the ground when it warms up a bit, there are the seeds that are reserved for kids to plant, and then there are the wonderful can be started indoors 6-8 weeks before the last frost plants.

I tracked down the trays that I use from year to year. These are approximately $10 at any hardware or garden store and, if you use them carefully, can be used year after year. I dumped out any and all remaining soil that was still clinging to the sides of the trays, rinsed them in dilute bleach solution to be sure there clean and virus free. We have found that cardboard egg cartons also work well and can be torn apart and planted directly in the dirt when the seeds are ready to transplant.

The trays are filled and the soil moistened with a little water to make planting easier. A bag of dirt can go a long way. I go for organic stuff if I can just as a standard of practice - less chemicals typically equals healthier foods. I tried my own compost once and that works as well- as long as you can recognize the seeds that will be emerging - typically compost will still harbor weed seeds that can take over, so I tend to stick with the bag of purchased dirt....one bag can start my entire garden and then some.

I survive the winter on the anticipation of playing in the dirt. It doesn't matter that it is still cold outside or that the dirt is in a bag - it is still dirt. I have found this small spring celebration to be quite an attraction and will have at least one kid that wanders by and says, "Oh! Can I help!" to which I somewhat reluctantly say, "Of course!" and hand over my seeds and my tweezers to them while I continue filling trays and labeling what they have planted.

A little warm water shower from the sink, a cover to keep them warm and moist, a sunny spot in the sun and voila! - three days later....the makings of coleslaw start poking up with onions, leeks, tomatoes, peppers, and broccoli to follow soon after.

My kids sometimes ask me about my perception of "God" and quite honestly, this is what I show them - the miracle of a seed - be it animal or vegetable. A small packet of genetic information that holds within it the blueprint to build another such being with similar, but not identical, characteristics. What I find so completely amazing is the complexity of the different species and how all of that is contained in something as small as (or in the case of animals - smaller than ) the head of a pin. That level of complexity and planning amazes me and the fact that I choose which seeds to plant and maintain gives me pause because now I, too, have a hand in what genetic information is propagated in the world. I take this responsibility very seriously. I see these tiny little seedlings not only as plants that I will one day eat, but they are the source of more seeds that I will rely on next year to plant again. They have lives and progeny and generations just like people do. They are very important beings in the world. Just because they don't have legs to move about and they eat soil doesn't mean that they are necessarily any less important than the rest of us. These thoughts often lead to me donating any extra seedlings to people to plant at their houses because I simply can't stand the thought of wasting even one.

So, it has begun. My family has grown to include these little seedlings that I will look after, care for, glean food from, and use to propagate next year's seeds. The Chinese know it best, "One who plants a garden, plants happiness. If you would be happy all your life, plant a garden."