I don’t think I mentioned that my fall and winter seeds arrived yesterday: wild arugula, broccoli, cauliflower, Brussels sprouts, and fava beans. Even though I am no doubt weeks yet from being able to get them started, I was quite excited to fondle them, organize them, and add them to my collection of seeds. I’d never seen any seeds for these vegetables before, so it was very interesting to finally see what they looked like. The most interesting ones were the fava beans pictured above. Big, fat, heavy beans. I love the shape and color of them!
Not only had I never seen a fava bean before, I have never eaten one either (obviously, I suppose, since I’ve never seen one). I didn’t do much research on fava beans before ordering them, at least not much beyond learning they should grow and produce well here in Central Texas. I’ve been reading up on them today, and while they do seem to have a colorful history and some potential medicinal uses, some persons with a hereditary condition leading to a certain enzyme deficiency are highly allergic to them … to the point of dying rather abruptly.
Not that knowing this information before I ordered them would have stopped me from doing so. I have no reason to believe I carry this hereditary condition or am allergic to fava beans. As far back as I know, I don’t have any ancestors of the ethnic groups most afflicted by this condition. I am not male, which is the gender most often carrying this condition. I also don’t have any other overly dramatic food allergies. All the same, the first time I am exposed to the blooming plants or eat the beans, I will be careful and watchful, so I am glad I did the research. The last thing I need is to die abruptly due to eating beans.
But I couldn’t turn my back on a bean that may very well be a plentiful producer during fall and winter in Texas (and that I’d never seen before), now could I? So sometime this month or next, the Great Fava Bean Experiment will commence. Hopefully, it will only lead to loads of tasty beans to eat and not so much illness and death. If I am going to go, I don’t want it to be on account of a silly bean I grew in my own garden.
Who said gardening isn’t a daring and dangerous activity? :lol: