Another Sunday supper with perhaps the world's best beans (and there are few suppers more satisfying than a simply roasted chicken with steamed beans properly sliced, topped and tailed). So this is an homage to our most prolific crop. Maybe two months after we thought they were over, they are still there every week, hanging like Tibetan bunting in the wigwams.
We have grown to love the fading of summer through them - the yellowing of the leaves at first a scary omen of the stunted winter to come has mellowed into crinkly autumnal oranges and browns. The bean flowers and pods are now joined by an occasional triumphant trumpet of bindweed. A near perfect symbol of the season. It seems important to let them slowly fade, though every week we think there cannot possibly be more beans, they are they are bejewelled with dew still fresh and full of flavour.
We have also come to love the pupae-like stages of the previously hidden few we missed as they fatten and curl and colour... But enough about us, any fruit or veg obsessing you at the moment?
