It is a truth universally acknowledged that home-grown veg, by definition, is more delicious than any other kind (why else do I bother, after all? No, don’t answer that). So it seems almost irrelevant to wonder how the dinosaur eggs turned out once we came to actually eat them. After all, they were kind of cool looking, germinated easily, climbed up their beanpoles (a first for me), looked decorative, cropped heavily and were easy to harvest, and then kept well as dried beans, so there was no real rush to, you know, actually eat them as after all, they were bound to be delicious. That more or less makes them the perfect grow-your-own crop, especially for the recovering veg sceptic like myself. But in the interests of narrative closure, I thought we should probably actually try them one of these days, it was just a question of how. The guy who had passed them on to us suggested ribollita, but we made ribollita back when we were working our way through Hugh Fearnley-Washingup’s Veg Everyday Book and I remember looking down at the resulting bowl and thinking if my seven-year-old self had been presented with it she would have sat at the table and wept for up to a week rather than eat a single spoonful, and once I had proved that I was a grown up by finishing the bowl, I then decided the seven-year-old me had a point. So not that, then.
This year, it looks like our January cookbook of choice will be the other half’s magnificent tome on Mexican cooking (which, among other things,* recommends frying everything in lard, thereby undoing at a stroke this month’s home baking moratorium, but that’s another story). As he was looking through the recipes he asked whether we had any dried beans to make refried beans. And lo and behold, we had.
And so tonight we had burritos with spicy beef, and avocados, and soured cream and refried dinosaur eggs.
They were, naturally, delicious.
*Like drying your corn – to make your own tortillas, naturally – with quicklime. I’m afraid we resorted to buying ours from Tesco’s