In my memory, lupini beans were tender, sweet, creamy, buttery and accented by a hint of salt. I remember eating them with my grandmother. They were the perfect snack as we waited for a big family dinner.
One of many, they were a weekend ritual. Steak on Fridays…always. But, on Sunday, anything was fair game. From grilled meats, to fritto misto, to homemade pasta, we were well-fed at my gram’s house. And, the crowd could top 30 when family from the north was in town. I was the pampered baby of the family. Ultra-fine blonde curls and a dark golden brown tan courtesy of my Italian roots and day after day spent on the beach with whichever relative was in town this week. Summers were one long beach party. And, the days would end with amazing meals made by my grandmother.
So, when I saw a bottle of lupini beans at a local specialty market, I happily snatched a bottle. Sadly, these beans do not resemble the beans of my childhood in any way. They were overly briny, unbearably salty, and unpleasantly mealy.
My grandmother made them from scratch. What was the secret preparation that I missed as a child? I wish I knew. My grandmother never shared the secret. Unaware that many years later, I would try to recreate the memory of those perfect summer days. I’ll just have to learn how to make them from scratch. The way she used to do. It’s worth the effort to try to recapture those magical days of summer in Florida. But, I know it won’t be the same without her… even if I can reproduce her recipe. Luckily, the magic will endure in my memories.
I miss you Gram.
