Lima beans

Today I am thinking of lima beans!

And, well you might say, go to Harris Teeter and buy a bag, but alas, they have nothing that even resembles the food I'm fantasizing about. I keep buying frozen bags of Fordhook lima beans or baby lima beans, hope springing eternal in my veins not to mention salivary glands. But though I steam, boil, add butter and even a bit of sugar, the objects on my plate bear no kinship to my memories.

Mother picked lima beans from the garden behind our house by the swings. And she picked them young. And she cooked them briefly, adding butter, salt, pepper and a bit of rich milk. Then you ate them. The squish of flavor as you mouthed these tender morsels was incredible. I long for it!

In my current world, the closest thing that comes to matching the flavor is young edamame - quite the chic item as you squeeze them out of their salted shells in glitzy bars with a tasty cocktail in hand.

But I'd trade that any day for a plate of Mother's lima beans served on a snowy white Sunday dinner table with a family of seven divvying them out amid the clamor!