The snap of string beans

Friday night I hurried to Whole Foods in Union Square to pick up roughly five pounds of string beans, bacon, onions, parsnips, fennel, carrots, and two roasting pans. I ended up beyond exhausted by the time I got home and only had enough energy for cleaning and chopping the carrots and parsnips while an Amy's mac and cheese heated in the oven. Once those were done, I plopped in front of the TV to watch an interview with Angela Lansbury (sp?) at the Paley Center on PBS. Then I passed out.

Why do I share this? Because I still had SO much work to do in preparing my contribution to the Claeys' family Oktoberfest the next day.

I woke up Saturday fairly well rested, threw in the laundry and prepped my mis en place for the "German" style string beans my mom swore was a family recipe (though looking back I never remember these at the table). Regardless, I rinsed the beans and almost fretted snapping the ends off of the overflowing bowl. Once I got started, however, I didn't want to stop.

The sound of their snap and the fragrance which was released brought me back to when we all sat around the table in Grandmom's kitchen snapping beans. I closed my eyes, held onto the memory for as long as I could, whispered a little prayer, and then continued on with the dish.

As the fennel, carrots, and parsnips roasted with some apple cider in the over, the bacon rendered it's fat for the onions I was about to caramelize in it. The beans were flash boiled so to remain their firmness. Once all was finished, the beans and onions were mixed together, the roasted veggies were spread around the side, and the crispy bacon crumbled on top.

I don't know if this was a family recipe, but it may be now!