Day 63

Canned (Large) Fava Beans

This has been a rough week. I did something stupid again — picked up a can of fava beans. Freshly cooked fava beans can’t possibly taste this bad. I saw these on the supermarket shelf and, remembering Hannibal Lecter’s endorsement, figured I had a winner. Didn’t notice the word “large” on the label, so when I opened the can, my husband and I had a good giggle over these gerbil-size legumes. The giggling stopped once the smell kicked in. It was so bad that my husband tortured my children by chasing after them with the pan of beans. And the taste coincided with the smell. (Though I could see how they would pair well with human liver and nice Chianti.) Will revisit a properly prepared fava. And I promise not to make any more impulse buys.

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