Foodlore Library

The arrival of fava beans in Tuscany says Spring is here. In late February, many of the vineyards near my house begin planting fava between rows of grapevines, and by early April, the plants have grown full. Long, lush, green rivers sprawl across the countryside fixing the nitrates in the soil and, more importantly, providing a tasty treat.

Soon fava will appear in the grocery stores, and soon I will have piles of them stacked high on my kitchen table. Fava beans (also called broad beans by the English and bacelli by the Tuscans) are widely eaten throughout the world, but are not very common in North America. When they are seen in North American, they are usually dried or canned.

 I found it interesting that for some, fava signifies death, while in Tuscany, it seems to symbolize rebirth and awakening: encompassing all that springtime really is.

My first encounter with a fresh fava was on a June afternoon when I first came to Florence to study cooking. My teacher placed a great bowl filled with the pods, which are long and lumpy, a bit like string beans on steroids, on the classroom table. She then added a bowl of what I took to be sugar, but turned out to be salt, and a lump of fresh pecorino, or sheep's milk cheese.

The teacher beckoned the students to gather round and I expected that we were about to learn how to make some new dish. It turned out the dish was already prepared. At the teacher's instruction we tentatively began breaking open pods, dipping the beans in salt and nibbling on bits of the fresh cheese. I suddenly understood what Italian cuisine really meant: simplicity.

Since my first foray into the fava world I have learned many more ways of preparing the bean and a lot more about them. At my first internship, a pecorino mousse served in a tart shell with fresh fava sprinkled over it was added to the menu in early April. The restaurant where I work as a chef  just added two dishes with fava to their menu: rabbit confit with a fava flan, as well as fava and pecorino rolled in philo dough. In many restaurants and homes, fava purees and salads are also quite common, though fava --with fresh pecorino and salt-- is the most famous way to munch on the beans.

Fava up close

Fava beans have a rich history in the Mediterranean. They are known to have been used by both the Greeks and Romans. In both cultures they were a symbol of death because the flowers have a black stain on the petals and the stems are hollow, symbolizing a direct connection to the underworld. While the Greeks used them during funerals but abstained from eating them, the Romans prepared them as a funeral dish.

When Catholics changed some of the pagan traditions to Christian traditions, fava was included. In Sicily today fava beans are still boiled and served on the streets for November 1^st, the day of the dead. I found it interesting that fava for some signifies death while in Tuscany it seems to symbolize rebirth and awakening, encompassing all that springtime really is.

Last night my husband and I attended a dinner party at one of his colleague's houses, another taxi driver who lives quite near us in the countryside. An array of cold cuts, pickled vegetables, and crostini had been arranged on the table when we arrived. A large wheel of fresh cheese still in its white paper bag was spread out before us and a huge basket of fava was passed around the table. We ate piles of food.The festivity rose at the sight of the fava and the men started calling each other "fave," which in dialect also means idiot.

 I smiled and felt content watching as everyone ripped open their fava pods and popped beans in their mouths. Spring in Tuscany really is here.

Fava growing between the vines.