Every country has its comfort food. A shepherd’s pie with creamy, soft mashed potato, a good old chicken and leek pie lifted from the oven with wonky pastry and juices everywhere, or a bowl of steaming Irish stew fit for a soft day.
For us here in the Alpujarra region of Spain, it’s a springtime thing, and the arrival of the first carrier bag of crackingly fresh habas kindly offered by our neighbours, who grow the stuff on a Jack and the Beanstalk scale.
Usually with a few fresh pea-pods thrown in, I open the bag with pleasure, and we sit side by side, our backs warmed by the sunshine, podding and separating the little green jewels from their furred homes. The peas are popped into our mouths as we go, the habas mostly make it to the colander.
Habas con Jamón
Heat some Olive Oil. Gently sautée some finely chopped onion and garlic. Add some Jamón offcuts, or a packet of Jamón tacos to the pan to fill the kitchen and the street with a mouthwatering scent. A splash of white wine or that Fino in the fridge door added to sizzle. Add the newly liberated habas, a litre of stock, and simmer, covered, until the sauce is thick and silky, and one testing taste leads to another. Add freshly milled pepper but no salt. Hey, lunch is ready, did you get the bread? A slather of salty butter and we’re ready to eat! Sit down there, won’t you?…