Friday, January 07, 2011

Fond Childhood Memory: The Bean Incident

I'm soaking some beans tonight because tomorrow I plan on cooking them and a hunk of ham (with bone) in the crockpot for some tasty bean soup... which jogged this fond childhood memory of the bean incident.

So, I have no idea how old I am when this happened, but every Saturday my dad use to cook something incredibly tasty, and since it was a snowy, cold day, he decided to cook ham and beans.

I'm sure you are aware that when beans are in the package, they're pretty small, and you have to soak them overnight before you cook them... well, Dad did that, but the amount of beans in one package didn't seem like a whole lot, so he used like... 5 packages.

By morning they had swelled to mammoth proportions and we had to keep transferring them to bigger and bigger bowls and we ended up having to use one of those HUGE canning pots to hold them all.  Mom was off somewhere most of the day, so we were all in charge of seasoning and watching the beans cooking to make sure they didn't double in size again and take over the kitchen. 

Since we had so many beans, we figured we'd make a few phone calls and invite half the neighborhood over, because, seriously, who can eat a vat of beans?

Well, mom had some stomach issues and couldn't eat pepper.  We did add some pepper to the beans, but just a normal amount, barely enough (in all of our opinions) to set off her stomach "condition", but when mom walked through the door later that night, the first thing she shrieked was that she could SMELL the pepper, and then went off on a tirade about her stomach condition and the pepper (mom was also going through the "change", which is yet another fond childhood memory I'll share later).

An argument ensued and just as the the neighborhood friends came into the front door, dad took the entire vat of ham and beans and threw it out the back door, much to the delight of Barney, our terrier-mix dog (the white dog on the left, the schnauzer is Baron... yet another fond childhood memory forthcoming).

I greeted the neighbors by saying "hey, glad you can make it... dad just threw the beans into the back yard".  Being good friends, they laughed until they cried, because good friends don't think its bizarre for us to toss a vat of beans into the back yard.

What Barney couldn't eat that night, he buried in the snow and feasted on it for days, and as far as I know, he thought there was just enough pepper in it.  We opened up some canned soup and drank heavily and had a good time.

1 comment:

Huffle Mawson said...

Sounds like something that would have happened in my house.