Crispy String Beans with Lemon Basil Aioli
Crispy String Beans with Lemon Basil Aioli
Photo: Royalty Purple Pod
Beans seem to have been stuck with a rather boring reputation. They’re so common. It’s almost impossible to fail at growing them. There are relatively few plagues or pests to derail a crop. We would bet that if a survey were taken of all home gardens, beans would be in, well, all of them.
Like most vegetables, they’ve fallen victim to commercial hybrid consolidation. If you asked most home gardeners what kind of beans they grow, they would most likely answer: “green.”

We grow our pole beans and peas using trellises made of “hog panels.” These precut galvanized steel fence sections are sold at your local agricultural store. They’re the prefect length and flexibility to create what people call our “Calistoga Wagon” trellises. One end of the panel is inserted into the soil on one side of our raised bed, then the other is bent over and inserted into the soil on the opposite side. No tools. No tying. They are that elusive combination of inexpensive, durable, and uncomplicated. And - once fully grown over - kind of beautiful too.
We think it’s time to rediscover the great variety of beans. Not just fresh string beans. All kinds. We grow fourteen different kinds of beans in the BEEKMAN 1802 Heirloom Garden...from fresh string beans, to wax beans, to fresh shelling beans, to dried beans. Plus Lima, Fava, and Black Eyed Cow Peas (which are, contrary to their nomenclature, actually beans.) The one kind of bean we don’t grow is the boring green rubbery kind found in supermarkets.

Most of our bean varieties date back to the nineteenth century, including the famous “1885 Landreth Stringless” which is recognized as the first stringless variety. (Thus freeing up the time of Victorian farmwives everywhere so that they could spend time on more pleasant pursuits. Like chicken plucking.)
Other favorite varieties for us are:
Flageolet - which are shelled before fully matured for a fresh, tender young bean which, when cooked, becomes extraordinarily creamy.
Montpellier French Filet - an old french variety whose long, straight, and impossibly-thin shape is cooked to perfection by mere blanching.
Broad Windsor Fava Bean - though a nightmare to shell, they’re probably the most decadent of beans, and first listed by the french seed house Vilmorin-Andrieux in 1885.

Broad Windsor Fava Bean blossoms
The only problem we find with beans is their prolificness. By the time we take one harvesting turn around the garden, we may as well return to picking at the first bed. Luckily, they’re among the easiest vegetables to can, pickle, freeze, or dry.
Fresh string beans don’t need much to taste good. A little olive oil. A little lemon. But after the first prodigious wave of string bean harvests - and before any shelling beans have matured - we’re not ashamed to admit that we grow a little tired of them. Even calling them haricot vert doesn’t make them sufficiently exotic.
We’re also not ashamed to admit that sometimes on our business travels, we are forced to eat at chain restaurants. Which is where, some years ago, we discovered the concept of “deep fried green beans.” (We forget which chain. Aren’t they all the same anyway?)
We think they’re kind of funny. We’re sure that someone, somewhere, thought that they might be a healthy alternative to french fries. They’re not. At least, not by much. Thinking more about it, this is the one and only recipe for which we use the deep fryer which someone unloaded on us years ago. Healthy or not though, they do break up the monotony of string bean season for us. And they’re also a great appetizer for an evening of summer drinks.
We also like to make an accompanying aioli dipping sauce to sharpen up the taste a little. In this case, we’ve made a lemon basil aioli because we like its slightly astringent taste with the breaded beans
Like most of our recipes, we just kinda made this one up - trying to recreate what we’d had in the chain restaurant. So yet again, you’ll have to excuse the vague measurements. It’s pretty hard to mess up much, though, when we’re talking batter and hot oil. If worse comes to worse, just fry the batter and save the green beans for some other time.
CRISPY STRING BEANS WITH LEMON BASIL AIOLI
Roughly 1 lb of string beans...any variety...topped and tailed. (Not too young, though...they won’t hold up to the frying.)

For the batter:
2 eggs
1 C flour
1 C Panko* (see recipe for explanation)
1 C milk (go ahead, try goat milk.)
1.25 t baking powder
1 T paprika
a little salt, a little pepper
(plus 4.5 C peanut oil for frying)
For the aioli:
1 t white vinegar
3 egg yolks, room temp (impt)
1 t dry mustard (dijon will work too)
1 C olive oil
15 or so lemon basil leaves
1 t fresh lemon juice
4 cloves of garlic
a little salt
Begin by making the aioli. You can make this a day or so ahead. The only drawback is that while it’s sitting in the fridge, you’ll find any excuse to dip snacks into it.

Since the yolk in aioli is raw, always start with fresh eggs. Here’s a glimpse of the odd variety of eggs our chicken’s lay. We don’t have the heart to get new ones each year, so there’s been some interbreeding. We happen to like the speckles on this giant one.
We learned to make aioli from Josh’s french uncle. (Everyone should have a french uncle.) We’ve always wondered why more people don’t make their own mayonnaise. It’s not that complicated, and tastes so much better than anything labeled Helmans. (We do reserve the right to use Helmans on tomato sandwiches, however.) Using a stand mixer with whisk attachment takes much of the risk out of successfully emulsifying the the egg yolk and olive oil. One day, however, we hope to be as talented as Uncle Robert, who can make mayonnaise with nothing other than a bowl and a fork.

Olive oil from Josh’s french uncle’s godson’s family olive grove. Got that?
Okay, back to the aioli. Make sure all ingredients are at room temperature...this is very important.

Mince the garlic and lemon basil leaves. Sometimes it works better to mince it all together with a little coarse salt. Traditionally, this would be done with a mortar and pestle, but since, invariably, when we need the mortar and pestle at the farm it’s in the city. And vice versa.

In the stand mixing bowl, combine the egg yolks, garlic/basil mixture, & mustard. Using whisk attachment, whisk all together on med speed. Once combined, turn mixer up to med high. Slowly pour in olive oil in the slightest drizzle - but not all at once. After the first few tablespoons, wait a bit until you see the egg yolk and olive oil begin to emulsify. Then add remaining oil in the same slight stream. After all the oil has been incorporated, mix in lemon juice and vinegar.
[If the emulsification “breaks” - ie: too much oil is added and it separates back into oil + yolk - don’t fret. Just empty the “broken” mixture back into measuring cup, add a fresh room temperature egg yolk to the mixer bowl, and whisk the “broken” mixture back into the new yolk, slowly. The new yolk should be able to hold the old mixture.]
Set aioli aside, or chill.
Now the beans.
First heat oil to 350 degrees either in a deep frier or heavy pot.
Because we place a high premium on not adding to dirty dishes while cooking, go ahead and use the aioli mixing bowl to mix the batter for the beans. Which is easy: simply stir all the ingredients together EXCEPT the Panko until smooth.

Most of you are probably already familiar with the miracle of Panko. We were introduced to its wondrousness by Sandy Gluck of Everyday Foods. Panko is a Japanese breadcrumb, which is flakier and lighter than our breadcrumbs. For a glimpse at how it’s made, look here.

Spread the Panko on a plate. Using tongs, dip the beans, one by one, into the batter mixture, dredge in the Panko, then drop in hot oil.


As you’re dipping, dredging, and dropping, (sounds a little naughty, no?) keep an eye on the beans in the oil. They’ll fry to a golden brown. Remove each one accordingly while you’re dipping/dredging/dropping the others. Place the finished deep fried beans in a single layer on a plate lined with several paper towels.

They’re best eaten warm, so if you’re having an informal cocktail party, go ahead and make them while your partner or spouse is entertaining the guests with stories you’ve heard a hundred times before anyway.

Okay. Gotta go back to picking. In the length of time it took to type this blog 43,857 more string beans matured

Sunday, August 3, 2008
Crispy String Beans with Lemon Basil Aioli
Sunday, July 20, 2008
