Beans Beans Beans!
This entry is for S., my roommate in college and still one of my closest friends. S. hails from jolly old England. Freshman year she told one of our hallmates that they all wore black on 4th of July.
Is it any wonder we're friends?
After the time in the dorms, we shared our first apartment together. We mainly cooked for ourselves, and it was junior year that I learned about her favorite meal: baked beans on toast.
This meal really tested the bonds of friendship, not to mention my gag reflex. Even though I grew up in the southern United States, I can't eat baked beans. They're a staple at every family reunion, church picnic, and most barbeque joints. And I have passed them up every time. Something about them just tastes wrong to me.
And there was S., putting them on toast! Of course it got all soggy, but she loved every bite. Later I learned it's not just S. who eats this odd meal; it's a well-known favorite of English folks everywhere, from childhood on. Yuck!
To be fair, I think that's how she felt when I ate all those Kraft dinners.
I know Helen has eaten baked beans at school, because I've seen the words "Beanie Weenie" on her lunch calendar. But that's the American version, with cut-up hot dogs. It's a meal with enough sodium to rival your saltshaker. Minus the hot dogs, I thought I'd finally give the beans a try at home with her. Something about having a kid - you get to correct all your own food mistakes. Maybe this one will eat all the asparagus I never did. Or maybe she'll like lima beans. You never know. Baked beans? Why not?
And of course, the whole time she was eating them, she kept saying "Mmmmm!" She finished the bowl and asked for more.
All right, Helen, I'll refill the bowl - but you can't pay me to add the toast.
UPDATE: She just ate a whole crumpet. Now we'll have to move to Liverpool!