poor little mung beans

Because it’s getting hot, I decided to make sweet mung bean soup yesterday and dutifully submersed a half cup of mung beans in water overnight. I come back from work today and…they’ve sprouted! Little pale white mung bean pointy things sticking out of the beans!

I feel so bad that I’m now going to boil them alive and spoil their chance to live. Seriously, I feel guilty. What did mung beans ever do to anybody? Nothing, that’s what.

I think all the Marx, Hegel, and Rousseau I’ve been reading has driven me a bit nuts. I’ve resorted to cooking to make me feel better. The curious thing is that I don’t really want to eat what I cook, which is proving to be a windfall for Mr. P. He feasted on roasted eggplant, garlic-ginger edamame, pork dumplings (hand-made!), and mango popsicles this weekend. Philosophy makes me lose my appetite, but amps up my inner cook. Go figure.

During the hunt for recipes I came across this page on the cuisine of my hometown. There’s even a brief description of Re Gan Mian, which I’m going to attempt later this week (noodles served warm, with sesame paste, sesame oil, black vinegar, garlic, scallions, preserved vegetables, pepper, and chili sauce). It strikes me as odd that although Wuhanese food is well-known in China, almost no one knows it elsewhere. The fish and crawfish especially are astonishingly good. I think I’ll have a Wuhan theme dinner one of these nights.