Bottom of the Bin - Home Canned Green Beans

Tonight I baked the last butternut squash I had in storage.  The few remaining shriveled potatoes have begun to feel the pull of spring, threading explorative tendrils through the mesh of their onion bag.  The big upright freezer now mostly houses bread I picked up on "Manager's Special" ($1/loaf) at the discount store.  The garden produce is just about finished.

So, driven to the last ditch, I am now faced with the one product I put up that I really don't like - canned green beans.  Whether produced commercially or at home, these are invariably flat-tasting, mushy and completely unpalatable.  I asked among my friends if any knew of a way to make them at least tolerable and got a few tips, one of which I tried tonight.

Step One
Chop lots of garlic (say, 1/2 a head) and saute in olive oil in your cast iron skillet.  Drain and add  your canned green beans and cook down until they dry out a bit.

Step Two
Add a couple of pinches of oregano, salt and pepper, and a handful of sliced almonds and continue to stir and cook on low for a couple more minutes.

Step Three
Remove from heat and toss in a little parmesan cheese.

This pungent, aromatic effort to eliminate any evidence of the vile base vegetable worked pretty well.  Next time I think I will couple this with a little rice, to add some texture (irony here), and make it a better vehicle for the flavoring. 

Tasted OK, but gave me heartburn.

Better luck next time, maybe.

Cookin' Day

Did you ever notice that we seldom want what is on hand and available for our use?

Food is a classic example.  This Saturday morning I find myself staring at sack of dried green split peas and think "do I have to go through this again?"  The packet of Fleischman's yeast on the refrigerator shelf and bags of flour in the freezer prod my guilt.  A lonely wrinkled butternut squash in the pantry cries out, "Peel me before I go bad!"  The Mason jar of cubed beets teases, "Forget how I look - red flannel hash will be great." 

"But I just don't want you,"  I wail.  "I want to dive into a great curry down at the Indian restaurant.  I want a bean burrito with slathers of salsa and sour cream at Parker's, and a pile of chips.  PLUS a pint of Bass on tap.  I want a spinach quesadilla from Dorothy's with a side of those delectable greens.  I would die for an aromatic bowl of potato leek soup made somewhere else by someone else."  "Where have all the crackers gone...."  Nothing to snack on - no peanut butter, no cheese.  The crumbs of a peach cobbler are all that remain.

"Sorry!" echo all the stores in my house, "No easy pickin's here! Get to work or go hungry!"

Ah well - the aroma of bay leaves now fills the house.  The squash is steamed and ready to be mashed with sage.  The hash is prepped, awaiting the red flannel.   I still have time to set a bread sponge and get it baked before bedtime.

On the heels of the last loaf I spread a dollop of homemade jam.  Aha! A quick lunch - and I defy you, fates!