Stories

Many, many years ago there was an older man who came to our store pretty much weekly for about nine or ten years. He wasn't all that talkative, he came with a plan and left with all the things on his list and always 12 small white grapefruit. Not much conversation, not even any dialoge about the weather, even if it had rained every day in June. Things never changed. He always smelled of mothballs and pipe tobacco. Monk wore old Hathaway wool shirts, real cotton khaki trousers, leather and rubber L.L. Bean boots half laced up and we never saw him without a pipe in his mouth filled with unburned tobacco.  He drove a large old pale yellow Ford Squire station wagon that looked retired from his other home in Connecticut. He came on the same day every week at roughly the same time.

We never saw him with anyone, but some weeks his grocery basket was heavier than other weeks and he would be downright grouchy, usually around the beginning of August. We could tell by his cantankerous attitude that he had family coming to visit.  There is no stopping anyone from visiting friends or family in Maine the first couple weeks of August even if they aren't that fond of each other. My sister and I were sure to have the freshest grapefruit awaiting him because he wasn't shy about telling you the following week that "they were getting a little dry" and his tone could be quite unpleasant.

In the fall and winter I really enjoy cooking with beans. I make lentil soup or sometimes black-eyed pea soup for New Year's. I love chili with beans. And I particularly enjoy bean salads, either warm or cold, as side dishes or mixed into green salads for a healthy lunch. Black beans and cannellini beans are some of my favorites to cook with, but I'm always looking for other types of beans that I haven't tried before.

There are many varieties of beans and I've been on a trek to discover them all, especially heirloom ones. I recently discovered French flageolet beans and loved them right away. The unique feature of this bean, besides its pale green color, is that they keep their shape very well after cooking and, if soaked overnight, they cook up quickly—in about 30 minutes. Their firm texture is what makes them perfect for this French-style bean salad.

In this recipe I play with Mediterranean flavors like fennel, garlic, lemon, and olive oil. I use fennel stalks and fronds, which most people would otherwise discard after using the bulb. (I usually use the fennel bulb in a roast chicken recipe and use the stalks for this salad. Then I pair the two dishes to make a meal.) The fennel adds a sweet anise flavor to the salad and the carrots lend additional sweetness. Lemon as well as red-wine vinegar add tartness. Serve this bean salad warm or cold, as an appetizer or side dish to fish, chicken, or meats. You'll enjoy the bright and fresh flavors.

I'll admit it, even though I find most of the recipes atrocious, I am fascinated by the Pillsbury Bake-Off. Every two years the contest is held with much fanfare and prizes, including a million dollar grand prize. The judges are generally food editors and choose recipes based on taste, appearance, creativity and consumer appeal, but because the recipes use packaged "convenience" foods, they often end up sounding bizarre. Samosa Taquitos with Apricot Chutney Sauce, anyone? Or Huevos Rancheros Pizza?

The Ungarnished Truth: A Cooking Contest Memoir "A Woman, A Chicken Dinner, A Million Dollars" is out now in paperback and I devoured the book in two sittings. Bake-off grand prize winner and author Ellie Matthews is smart, funny and very engaging. Her story gives an almost unbelievable level of detail on her road to the win. But even if she never won anything, you would want to read about this quirky and down to earth woman (who shocked everyone by not jumping up and down or screaming when she won).

What is it about rocking on a porch and hearing the low mournful call of a train in the distance that helps to melt away life's stress and worry?  Or the peaceful sound of midsummer leaves rustling in the tree tops as the wind blows gently through them?  

The white noise of cicadas softly buzzing in the afternoon heat that lulls one safely, in a trance-like state, from chaos to comfort?  Or a cool breeze on a quiet summer day followed by a tranquil afternoon shower that provides an assured respite from all of life's weary travails?  

The sound of raindrops tapping against a tin roof...thump, thump...thump, thump...that eases one toward solace and comfort?  Or the joy of song birds heralding the dawn and later marking twilight as they shepherd day into night?  The smell of gardenias blowing through an open window or the joy of starlight blinking gracefully against an inky sky?  

Harmony and peace are always there.  Simply stop, be quiet, still, and listen...