Gentle Saturday morning sounds surrounded me, although they weren’t the normal garden sounds for us. The wind rustled the leaves in the tall trees above (we don’t have enough trees nearby), dogs barked and kids yelled in the yards around (we don’t have close neighbors), and the straw crackled softly underfoot (we didn’t get around to strawing our garden this year). Nothing was strange; it was just easy to tell that I was working at a friend’s again instead of my house — destination gardening is kind of exciting. 

The most familiar sound to me was probably the most abnormal for the majority of people: the quiet yet incessant crunch, crunch, crunch of my three-year-old chomping on the green beans I was picking. I’m not saying other little kids don’t like fresh vegetables, but I’m guessing my son’s devotion to green beans is not totally normal. 

We have pictures of Benson at nine months old, a steamed green bean in each hand, as he leans back and crams them into his mouth. I think we’ve featured them at his birthday meal every year, since he continues to love them in any form (except for that time I stirfried them with a pepper that ended up being much spicier than anticipated). He’ll steal them off our plates, pretend to be a walrus with two green bean tusks hanging out of his mouth, and snatch them straight off the plant with a giggle and a crunch. In the middle of writing this article, at supper, Kiah kept chomping at all the many green bean pieces I offered her, so it looks like she’s following the family trajectory. 

I’m not mad. Maybe it’s even my fault, as I feel like my own personal devotion to green beans has escalated in the past few years — perhaps ever since carrying Benson. I’ve always liked them, although as a kid I probably didn’t appreciate picking them quite as much as I do now. My mom always canned what we didn’t eat fresh, and that’s still the way one of my brothers prefers them; while I’ll absolutely still eat home-canned (sometimes I even get in the mood for store bought canned, which is not a common thing for me to say), I am all about preserving the green bean harvest by freezing them. They’re not the same as fresh, but it’s close enough for me. That is, if any make it into the freezer.

I planted a different kind of green beans this year, and although the plants are growing okay, I don’t see any beans yet; so it’s perfect timing to have these friends’ gardens to glean. We picked a gallon Saturday with more to come, and maybe I should freeze some of them, but I’m absolutely not going to because I want to eat them. 

I’m so enamored with fresh green beans, it’s not entirely unusual to even see them at my place for breakfast...if they’re available, I’m eating them, any time of day. Yesterday morning while getting the yogurt out of the fridge, I saw the container of leftover cashew-basil green beans, and knew they would be a perfect breakfast food. I was right.

Benson and I can eat an oddly large amount of just plain steamed green beans for snack; sprinkling the whole beans with coarse salt, picking them up with our fingers, and polishing them all off. They’re just. So. Good. 

And Benson thinks that’s normal, tee hee. Crunch, crunch, crunch. 

Just Peachy Green Bean Salad

One of the iconic garden meals from my childhood and also my life now is the classic combo of new potatoes, fresh green beans, and cubes of ham, all covered in a rich cheesy sauce. I’ll always love that for the nostalgia and the flavor, but I might have just added a new favorite seasonal green bean dish! Peaches were going around our community the same time the green beans were coming in, so it’s a strangely good pairing all around. 

Prep tips: You want the green beans to be tender but still a bit firm. 

Any type of peach or nectarine will play well here — just make sure they’re ripe and sweet.

• 3 tablespoons lemon juice

• 1 tablespoon dijon mustard

• ¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil

• 1 pound fresh green beans, lightly steamed and cooled

• ¼ cup candied almonds/pecans

• ⅓ cup crumbled feta

• 2 peaches, diced

• salt and pepper

Whisk lemon, mustard, and oil together, then toss in remaining ingredients. Season to taste and serve.

Amanda Miller lives with her husband, two young children, and whoever else God brings them through foster care on the family dairy farm in Hutchinson. She enjoys doing some catering, teaching cooking classes, and freelancing, but mostly chasing after her kids. Reach her at hyperpeanutbutter@gmail.com.