Louie's Lupini Beans

My grandfather Louie like his lupini beans chewy not mushy, with salt and pepper, a little olive oil and lemon drizzled on top. His son, Mikey (my father), made sure to have lupini beans (salted, peppered, and oiled) when Louie came for Christmas Eve dinner. Before Mikey, it would have been Philly (my grandmother) who hosted Christmas Eve dinner. Still, it was probably Mikey who made sure that lupini beans arrived at the table prepared in the way that Louie liked.

Mikey bought lupini beans from a jar(Pastene). Each large yellow bean, soaked in a briny water, was encased in its own waxy sheath. The sheath was removed with the tongue releasing the creamy bean from within. When Amelia (Louie's wife) made Louie lupini, she bought the beans dried, soaked them in salted water for the afternoon, then boiled them on the coal fired stove until they were tender but firm.

After Amelia died, Louie ate lupini only when the neighbors or cousins brought them for Sunday dinner. While he learned to make his own tomato sauce, roasted meat, white bean and escarole soup, Louie didn't have the heart to make lupini.

"Pass the lupini," Louie would call down from the end of the dining room table where he sat next to Philly and Nunzio (my grandfather)_ at Christmas Eve dinner. He would place one bean at a time on his tongue, chewing and talking in Italian with Philly and Nunzio about "the old country," a pile of waxy sheaths growing by the side of his plate.