Back From Albania

When my grandmother recently asked what I wanted to take with me (as in smuggle across international borders) from Albania I said dried beans (fasule) hoping to recreate her glorious white bean soup (groshë). Well it was a close call between beans and olive oil but I made off with only a small stash of hand picked red thyme flowers, which now have perfumed all my clothes and will be on hand for the glorious cassoulet. 

Beans go in the ground this weekend in Staten Island. Right next to the raspberries.