The forgotton fava

12/15/2004
The forgotton fava

Alimentary traditions are a powerful force in any culture, and it can safely be said that--except in a few cultural enclaves-- Americans don't have a tradition of eating fava beans (Vicia faba). At most, some of us might know that the strangely named foul (ful) madamas--the dish of large, stewed dried beans served in some Middle Eastern restaurants--in fact is made with dried favas.

Unfortunately, this dish is a misleading introduction to the maligned fava, as it is made with a particularly tough, mature dried bean that hasn't had its tough skin removed and therefore is somewhat unpleasant in the mouth and very indigestible. So, forget the unfortunately named foul madamas and let me introduce you to the inimicable pleasures of the fresh garden fava.

The fresh fava can be enjoyed from the time it reaches the size of your little fingernail to maturity, at which point it will resemble an overgrown lima bean. Fresh favas have an absolutely unique flavor that is heightened by a point of bitterness which aficionados--myself included--find delectable.

Tiny fresh favas are a rare treat that is enjoyed fresh from the garden in France and Italy, served simply raw, with salt, crusty bread and butter, and perhaps some shavings of sharp sheep's milk cheese. Larger beans need to be blanched for a few seconds only in boiling water, and then each bean individually peeled of its tough outer skin. If this sounds laborious, it is. But it's worth every minute, for the toothsome texture and unique, almost perfumed flavor of fresh favas is one of the pleasures that is yours uniquely as an adventuresome gourmet gardener.

I've peeled many a fava, and here's the best way to do it. You'll notice one end of the bean is slightly thickened and bears a sort of suture or line. Use your thumbnail to slit the skin at this end, then squeeze the thin end of the bean between thumb and forefinger to pop the bean out of its casing. (This is a chore that always amuses me because of the unmistakable resemblance of the fava to a certain important part of male anatomy. And it's not just my imagination, because I have read that in the Middle Ages, nuns were forbidden to eat favas because they were so suggestive.) You might want to wear ultra thin rubber gloves to do this, as favas contain an odd blackish pigment which--while not visible on the lovely pale green bean--shows up to stain your fingers after you work with them.

Before you can peel your favas, you'll of course have to shuck them out of their most unusual pods, which are thick, fleshy, and lined with a sort of white fleece--like a baby blanket for the beans inside. This pod doesn't split open readily like many bean pods. Here's what I've found works best. Snap the pod by bending it between two of its bean-containing bulges. Then use your fingers to squeeze the beans out of the broken ends of the pod. This is much faster than trying to open the pod lengthwise.

While most beans are warm weather crops, favas--which are actually in the pea family--thrive best in cool weather. In mild winter areas, they can be planted in October through January for late winter and early spring enjoyment. In the kitchen, by the way, favas are perfect companions to that other cool winter vegetable, the artichoke.

In cold climates, plant favas at first thaw for an early crop, and again in the late summer for fall enjoyment. You might want to shade the germinating seeds of the second sowing.

As legumes, favas fix nitrogen and so don't need a particularly rich soil. However, moderately good drainage is helpful so that the fleshy seed doesn't rot in cold wet soil before germinating. However, you'll notice that compared to all other garden peas and beans, favas are marvelously vigorous germinaters. I think this is because this ancient vegetable, native to the Mediterranean basin, hasn't been tampered with as much genetically over the years as those more popular vegetables. Plant the seeds about 2" deep.

While fava plants are not at all vining, they are heavy and may flop over as they mature at about 3 feet tall. It's a good idea to sink a few stakes along the row and run twine on either side of the plants to prevent this. Even better, when the plants are about 10" high, pinch them back to just above the second pair of leaves. This will cause them to branch and send up 2-3 stems per plant instead of just one. Not only will these pinched plants be shorter, stockier, and less likely to flop, but they will produce more than unpinched plants.

The plants themselves are very ornamental, with glaucous, pale jade green compound foliage and large, showy, white and black (yes, black!) pea-like blossoms born in the leaf axils. I have a feeling that it's this same black pigment that somehow shows up on your fingers later.

Favas have been enjoyed in Europe, North Africa, and the Middle East for thousands of years. They were a staple in monastic gardens and figured in many medieval dishes. Today, the Italians and the Egyptians are the biggest fava fans. Italians treasure the fresh bean, while Egyptians enjoy it in its dry form. It must be stated that the dry bean, starchy and mealy with a somewhat strong taste for a bean, bears no resemblance to the fresh item, which offers a delightful, shy resistance to the tooth and is one of the most delicately flavored of all vegetables.

To my palate, the fresh fava--even rather large ones--are ready to eat after being blanched and peeled. They need only be warmed gently with a bit of butter or olive oil, a sprinkling of chopped fresh winter savory, finest sea salt, and a grinding of black pepper to offer the most delectable feast. Fresh favas served like this are almost too good to accompany any other dish. I prefer to eat them uncontaminated--as a first course where they can receive the undivided attention they deserve. The only embellishment I allow from time to time is shavings of coppa--a delicious cured pork from Italy or Corsica--crisped in a skillet. Bon appetit!

Note: A very rare allergic reaction--called favism--can occur in some persons of Mediterranean descent upon eating raw favas or inhaling fava pollen.

For some nice fava recipes, visit http://www.milioni.com/ricingl/ingred/173.htm

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