I embarked on a CSAcation because of my limited experience cooking with vegetables; I was, as a child, an extremely picky eater.

I suppose that makes me no different from most children. But I was selective in my pickiness:  I would eat popcorn, but not creamed corn, buttered corn, or corn on the cob. I would eat ketchup or spaghetti sauce, but never, under any circumstances, would I eat a raw tomato. French fries were great, mashed potatoes were delicious, but a potato in its natural form was highly suspect. Certain vegetables were absolutely out of the question:  asparagus, okra, Brussels sprouts, and cauliflower.

A meat and two sides | couponcravings.com

Until my teen years, even though I knew good and well it was a pasta, I thought of macaroni and cheese as my favorite vegetable, followed closely by mashed potatoes and gravy. I grew up going out to eat at Piccadilly, where we could get a meat and two sides. To me, a side meant a vegetable. Macaroni and cheese was a side. So were mashed potatoes. Therefore, macaroni and cheese equals vegetable. In my selective culinary world, I had my own brand of logic, one where starches and carbs substituted for vegetables, because if Piccadilly said it, it must be so. This system of logic was meant to excuse me from eating veggies and to infuriate my mother.

One of the only exceptions to my vegetable hatred was green beans. I sometimes try to recall the first time I had them, but it’s no use:  I can’t remember. What I do remember, though, is that we had them often, fat pole beans, steamed in the pressure cooker with water and a big spoonful of bacon grease, a strip (or three) of bacon for good measure, salt and pepper, and sometimes a few new potatoes thrown in for variety.

My bedroom was upstairs, but I could still hear my stepdad preparing dinner, and I knew that when I heard the tss-tss-tss-tss-tss hissing of the pressure cooker, dinner was almost ready. The beans I heaped onto my plate were cooked to perfection (my idea of perfection), the pods almost mushy, and the beans perfectly soft—not hard and beany like the kidney beans in chili (that I wouldn’t eat). The taste of pork lingered on every bite, and it was almost like I wasn’t eating a vegetable at all.

That’s what it took for me to eat vegetables:  to erase any hint of vegetable-ness. Bacon is particularly useful in that endeavor. It has been compromising the nutritional integrity of my vegetables for quite some time.

Yummy green beans | Pic by Andrea Nolan

As an adult, however, I had to find other ways of cooking green beans. Until this year, I had no access to a pressure cooker of my own, and even though one of my roommates has, in fact, two pressure cookers, and they’re in plain view in our kitchen, I never use them. Though I have a soft spot in my heart for pressure cooker green beans, I’d rather have those cooked for me by an expert. I had to make my own way with green beans, and so I found the method I prefer nowadays:  sautéed.

In this week’s Five Points CSA, we got a bag of beautiful green beans and a box of organic button mushrooms. I made a bit of a CSA-related feast last night, using CSA parsnip and carrots and roasting them with a potato, a sweet potato and garlic. But the main event was the green beans and mushrooms.

Sautéed Green Beans and Mushrooms

2-3 tablespoons butter

½ pound green beans, topped and tailed

5-6 mushrooms, stemmed and cut in slices

Salt and pepper

In a large skillet, melt the butter over medium heat. You might add a dash of olive oil to keep the butter from burning, but it’s not required. Add mushrooms, stirring to coat. Cook the slices until both sides begin to brown, about five or six minutes.

Add green beans and stir to coat. Cover and cook seven to ten minutes, stirring occasionally. Salt and pepper to taste.

Dinner is served | Pic by Andrea Nolan

When I prepared these last night, I was stressed and tired from a long day. But as I cooked the mushrooms in the melted butter, I found a moment of peace. I leaned against the counter and really smelled the mushrooms—mushrooms mixing with butter for an organically sweet smell.

I served the green beans with the roasted root vegetables and baked chicken. That first bite of green beans with mushrooms tasted exactly how I hoped it would when I smelled those mushrooms cooking—savory, buttery, but the sweet surprise of mushrooms to follow. I’m toying with adding garlic next time, but I loved this dish so much, I’m tempted to just leave well enough alone.

Eat well, CSAcationers, and take care.