For the last number of years, whenever I’ve asked Merle what he wants for Christmas, he always says the same thing without pausing for breath. “Vegetables.”
I’ve found this a wee bit exasperating.
He and I live in the city with a 2 x 4 backyard. And, okay, even if we had an acre on which to plant a garden, we wouldn’t be doing it anyway. We don’t have time—and probably not the will, either.
Merle’s request has gotten even more specific recently. He wants lima beans. In fact, baby lima beans.
We both grew up on these little jewels, but they are absolute rarities these days. A few times I fell for the frozen baby limas that lie alluringly in the grocery store freezing units. Tear open the gorgeous packaging and you’re looking at off-white bullets. Even a velvety covering of brown butter won’t raise them from the dead.
But until this year, we hadn’t solved the baby-lima-bean yen.