Kitchen Garden: Broad Beans

If, I am sometimes asked, you could grow only one vegetable, what would it be? My answer: broad beans. Gathered when small and eaten almost straight from the pod, they are so much tastier than those available in a supermarket. Having sown them in the ground in late February, the plants appear and grow frustratingly slowly, until the flowers begin to show around the beginning of May. A few weeks later, I start to look for the first pods, low down on the stems of the plant. I expect to make the first picking, when the beans are the size of one’s little fingernail, during the week of Royal Ascot.

Depending on the varieties grown, the plants may need supporting with canes and string, though sowing the beans in double rows should avoid the need for this. The tops should be pinched out when the first pods start to form, encouraging the beans to grow and reducing the risk of attack by blackfly. In some weathers, it may be necessary to resort to a chemical spray to deal with the little pests, though a mixture of water and washing-up liquid will also be effective. Alternatively, summer savory, a herb which can be chopped and eaten with broad beans, is supposed to repel the blackfly if grown among the plants.

This year I am growing two varieties, Witkiem Manita and De Monica, which are recommended for early spring sowing and early cropping. There are others, such as Aquadulce Claudia, which are suitable for sowing outside in November, but those that survive the winter are unlikely to produce beans before mid-June.

I find it impossible to pick all the beans when they are fingernail-size; the larger ones should have their skins removed after cooking. In France, they let the beans grow to a size suitable only for adding to soups, while the Spanish offer a delicious tapa of baby broad beans with pieces of Iberico ham and olive oil. Fat Lady Jennifer Paterson once told me she preferred young broad beans to asparagus. I rather agree.