Do Yourself a Fava

Much as I love my Kitchen Vacations, sometimes you just want to stay home. Especially now. Especially here. Seattle's high today of 69F with shaggy rain beats the hell out of the umpteenth day of 100 degrees in Oklahoma City and most of the right half of the US. So far, forecasters here say we've had a mere 78 minutes of summer, which they define as temps above 80F. Brrr. It's the talk of the "summer". But what it's not doing for the local mood, it sure is doing for the produce:

The fava beans at the farmer's market today couldn't be lovelier. Eating them in the car is a stringy, tannic mess, but what the heck. Every pod contains fabulous prizes!

Crisp, suede-like tannins and grassy bean flavor. Happy. It's hard to improve on them fresh, but Nigel Slater reminds us that hummus made from favas is a treat. A fava-rite, as it were.

He also says beans larger than a thumbnail should be peeled, but why? The peels on these babies are sweet and mild. Include them I do.

Not much of a yield here from 6 large cups of bean pods, but it's the perfect amount of hummus for a snack.

The juice of a lemon, some blanched mint from the garden and a splash of olive oil. So simple. Whirled together, well...hmmm. Yeah.

Now I see why there was no picture of this recipe in Tender. But spread on crusty bread with a crisp Gewurtztrauminer? A blindfold wasn't necessary because it was delish.

Half remained post-snack, so I whipped it with a little cream cheese and an egg and stuffed it in zucchini blossoms also from the market.

I'll spare you the after picture - one barfy shot per post is quite sufficient. Stuffed, then breaded and quickly fried and served with a grassy young Sauvignon Blanc, it was locavore heaven. That two layers of polar fleece were needed to shake off the chill of the wine was a blessing, right Easterners?