One of the side-effects of international dating is that your English goes to the dogs. My vocabulary is currently a mixture of British and American with an occasional smattering of Dutch when I forget my own language. There are linguistic misunderstandings all the time, which (generally) make for much amusement, and occasionally lead to culinary mishaps. Beans seem to be a particularly complex issue: not only do I have to figure out the American for them (do broad beans translate as fava or fresh lima?); I then have to work out how they’re likely to be labelled in the supermarket (tuinbonen or groene bonen?)…
At the end of the exercise, I’m left discombobulated and generally saddled with a few more beans than I’d bargained for. What I do know about this particular variety of summer beans, however, is that they’re a pain in the arse (or is that the ass?) to prepare. First you have to pod them like giant peas (although if you buy good frozen ones at least that bit is done for you); then blanch them, and finally pop the bright green innards out of their bitter grey-white skins. My American declared that it was like doing punishment in the Navy.
