The Fava Bean Lady
Apr. 25th, 2004 03:10 amYesterday was a fine flowered spring day in Berkeley, and so David and I and his mother Gina went up to Shattuck Avenue, to sip fresh orange juice and nibble at CheeseBoard pizza and take the day slowly.
Berkeley is a place where passersby talk to one another more easily than in other places, and David's mother is an outgoing sort. Plus she had her dog along. So we were soon chatting with all sorts of interesting folk, and my favorite was the Fava Bean lady.
A woman passes by with a full grocery bag that has some leafy stalks hanging out of it. "What's that you've got in your bag?" asks Gina. "Garlic greens," says the woman, and takes out a fragrant bulb and stalk for us to sniff. She has just come from the Farmer's Market. Encouraged by our enthusiasm, she shows us what else she has bought there: fresh fava beans. I've never seen fresh fava beans in the pod before, and she breaks one open to share with us. The pod is thick and green, and the inside is a fuzzy soft white, and the beans are firm and juicy. We taste some, taste the pods. They are good.
The day is a tilt to my usual reality - making a day of just sitting along the sidewalk letting time pass slowly; talking with people in contexts that I normally wouldn't; tasting and smelling of earth's fruits that I'd normally overlook. I need to do more of that. Here is my Fava Bean lady:
