This past weekend of warmth and clear skies made up for September’s endless deluge (well, almost), and got me out into the garden after days of averting my eyes every time I walked past. 

Finally, thanks to three days of non-stop sunshine, the bean plants I pulled and hung upside down across the corners of my fence have dried out. This means beans for eating this winter, and for seeding next year. Both of these make me feel triumphant. I grew some pretty cranberry beans of an unknown variety (I saved them from last year’s crop, but somehow managed not to keep a record of what I had planted) and two different white beans, including the irresistibly named Hank’s X-tra Special Baking Bean, an heirloom variety from my own small town, preserved (and sold) by the wonderful Hudson Valley Seed Library.

Whether baked or boiled, dried beans are extremely inexpensive (even if you can’t eat those you’ve harvested yourself). They also have a stunning nutritional profile. Low in fat, they add fiber, protein and B vitamins to your diet, along with minerals such as calcium, iron, phosphorus, and more. (Don’t take my word for it: check out your favorite variety on Nutrition Data.)

Concerns about beans’ less lovely side effects are justified, but remedies exist. A tablespoon or so of baking soda added to the beans’ soaking water seems to help (a trick learned from legendary Francophile and locavoracious pioneer Richard Olney -- just make sure to drain the beans, rinse them, and add fresh water before cooking). I’ve also had good results from adding a piece of kombu seaweed to the pot, allowing it to cook with the beans. (Remove before serving.) You can intervene as you eat, too: Beano, an enzyme supplement, works to reduce gas, and capsules of activated charcoal taken with food will eliminate odor, if not the gas itself.

Though I’m not a vegetarian, I do try to serve a few vegetarian dinners to my family every week. Black beans served with rice are a staple; I cook the beans with water, salt, and finely chopped onion, plus a pinch or two of epazote if I have it on hand, in a pressure cooker. (For me, 25 minutes on high works perfectly for unsoaked beans. For more information, check out these helpful pressure cooking timetables.)

Lentils are our second-most favored legume, but for reasons unknown, I’ve never thought to try growing them. (Something to think about adding next year, perhaps. I’ve already found a source for seed.) I love lentil soup, and this time of year it’s a fast, simple way to use up all manner of random harvest: tomatoes, carrots, squash, and kale can all find their way, happily, into the following recipe. It’s forgiving and delicious. For carnivores in search of a more substantial meal, I sometimes add slices of sausage, like kielbasa, quickly grilled or browned in a pan.

This week in my garden:

FEEDING:

Lentil Vegetable Soup (Adapted from Jane Brody’s Good Food Book)
Serves 8 or more

2 tablespoons olive oil
4-5 cups chopped or grated vegetables, including one or two onions (I typically use a mix of onion, carrots and summer squash; if I am including a green, like kale, or chard, I may have more than 5 cups, because greens cook down so much. Grating in the food processor can be a fast, if slightly inelegant, way to prep a bunch of vegetables. It works beautifully for any of these, save the greens.)
1 teaspoon dried thyme
1 28 oz can tomatoes with juice (or an equivalent amount of fresh tomatoes, chopped, juice included)
7 cups broth (beef, chicken or vegetable) or water
1-1/2 cups dried lentils, rinsed and picked over for stones
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt or to taste
freshly ground black pepper to taste
2 teaspoons apple cider vinegar
1/3 cup chopped fresh parsley (optional, but it brightens the soup’s flavor and color)
grated sharp cheddar for serving, if desired

Heat the olive oil in a large pot or dutch oven and sauté the vegetables and thyme in it over medium-low heat for about five minutes, until they begin to soften and the onions become translucent.

Add the tomatoes, broth and lentils. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat, cover, and simmer for about 1 hour or until the lentils are tender.

Add the salt, pepper, vinegar, and parsley and simmer for a few more minutes. Serve hot with grated cheese on top.

SEEDING: It's finally time to plant the gorgeous garlic I ordered this summer. It's going to get a bed all to itself; I just have to decide which one will work best. I'm hoping it will be safe to use the cleared-out potato bed, since I know I can't use that bed for tomatoes, peppers, or any other nightshade plant next year.

WEEDING: The great fall clear-out continues. I'm cutting back my asparagus, cleaning out, and mulching that bed so I can add a few new crowns to it in the spring.

READING: Though I'm not sure I'm ready to garden in the snow, I've been reading up on season-extending strategies. If tackling Eliot Coleman seems too much, How to Grow a Four-Season Garden from Melinda Briana Epler's lovely and informative site One Green Generation is a friendly place to start.

Photo of beautiful heirloom beans from a favorite gardening blog, Chiot's Run