Leguminophobia

This morning, I was up between 2-5am.  Why?

It was a combination of things.

Five.

Five.
Five dollar footlongs.  Any Any Any Five...

Do you  know how frustrating it is to be wanting sleep and all you can think about is a cotton picking steak and cheese on white with provolone, banana peppers, mustard and extra salt and pepper?

It was the worst form of torture.

And then there are the beans.

I am afraid of dried beans.  In my cooking career, I have never mustered the courage to cook a dried pinto bean.  I've made layered French crepe cakes, I've tackled Martha's most daunting instructions, but I have never mastered the bean.

Growing up I remember Mamaw cooking a big old pot of beans.  Jettie Lou would have those beans simmering and it made the whole house smell good.  And they tasted even better.

Several years ago I bought a package of pinto beans.  And they sat and sat in my pantry, mocking me every time I saw them.  I did eventually use them.  As pie weights on a pie crust.  I know what you are thinking.  Buck up woman. 

See, I have Leguminophobia.  It is the fear of the bean and I have it.

My other Mamaw, Merle, brought some beans to dinner recently and they were so good.  It re-motivated me that maybe this was my time to conquer the dreaded bean and my Leguminophobia.

We went to the Kroger and I bought a bag.  They are cheaper than I remembered.  $2 and some change for a gargantu bag.  I brought them home and they have mocked me every time I open the pantry.  Curse you bean.  So last night, between my head singing about five dollar subs, I was also thinking about the bean and how it has mastered me.

This morning I woke with a new resolve.  I marched right into that kitchen with authority and poured myself a big glass of chocolate milk.  Me and my choco milk marched ourselves to the pantry and pulled the beans off the shelf.

Much to my surprise there are even directions printed on the bag.  Even though I have a recipe printed you cannot imagine my comfort in the knowledge that now I had two sets of directions-not to mention the bean talk texts I've been having with a fellow Southerner friend.

I rinsed those bad boys like I owned em.  I think I even pulled out a small rock.  Oh the victory.  They are soaking happily in a bowl right now and this afternoon I am going in with the pot of water and sliced up bacon.

Wish me luck!  I am skeered.