Verdinas

From Eating Asturias, the Encyclopedia of Asturian Gastronomy
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Recently, that is to say, since the 1980s, there has been something of a fashion in Asturias for verdinas. These tiny little green beans have become achingly hip, and have become the hottest ticket to culinary stardom. What are they, where do they come from, and why are they suddenly €20 a kilo? Read on!

The Count

Ricardo, mustache and bean enthusiast.

Once upon a time, early in the 20th century, there lived in Llanes a nobleman. This nobleman’s name was Ricardo Duque de Estrada y Martínez de Morentín. Ricardo was styled VIII Conde de la Vega del Sella y Marqués Consorte de Canillejas, de Gastañaga y de Deleitosa. That means he was a Count and that later he married a Duchess. So you could say he was a big deal.

Like many noblemen of his day, Ricardo was a dilettante. He dabbled in a number of fields, and received accolades for having hobbies and not merely being idly rich. If I was rich enough that people would applaud me merely for having a hobby, I doubt I would do even that. I suppose that means I too applaud Ricardo just for having hobbies.

As is tradition, the Count’s hobbies included mostly things his servants could do while he directed from a comfortable chair. Primarily he was interested in watching his servants collect plants (naturalism). However, he also enjoyed watching villagers dig up old things (archaeology), and playing cards with other nobles (politics).

He was particularly keen on the natural history bit. So much so that he bought himself a seat on the Royal Spanish Society for Natural History. This allowed him to travel far and wide to consult with other nobles on how their servants were getting on with the gardening. Consulting on natural history is much more fun than politics. It’s mostly done outdoors and involves rather more eating, but no less drinking. What the heck does this have to do with verdinas? Trust me, we’re getting there.

The Garden

Victorian gardening was hard work.

As Ricardo aged, he became more and more enthralled with watching villagers dig up stuff in caves. This lead him to a fine career in publishing monographs about the paleolithic. Naturalism mostly fell by the wayside, but not entirely. Pivoting to pure botany, he (had his servants) plant a specimen garden. In this garden he started to collect both native and foreign plants and trees.

Of course, he continued to travel and visit other nobles all over Europe. This is the primary purpose of a noble after all – to visit other nobles. Ricardo was particularly fond of visiting France, and of bringing home whatever botanical trifle took his fancy. These would be planted in his garden by his servants.

One of the things he brought back was the then new flageolet vert. That bean had been “invented” in 1878 by a French grower named Gabriel Chevrier, in Brétigny-sur-Orge, a suburb of Paris. It had become phenomenally popular, first in Paris restaurants, then in every French garden. Ricardo would have to have it. The verdinas, though not yet called that, had come home to roost.

The Verdina Spreads

The Count enjoyed bothering the local villagers, and was forever pestering them to plant this or that thing he’d brought back from wherever he’d gone drinking most recently. This French bean became something of a local fad. Though its popularity was initially confined to the Ardisana valley, it slowly spread throughout Asturias and neighboring Galicia as a garden crop. For the next 40 or 50 years, the verdina existed comfortably as a garden crop, no more or less loved than any other bean. They were cooked in the old ways, or added to whatever was at hand.

Asturians learn they can grow verdinas in peace.

Then, when the dictator died and the sun began to shine on regional differences that had been forcefully suppressed for 40 years, Asturias went wild for all things Asturian. While some parts of Spain celebrated their political differences, and other sought recompense for being particularly brutally treated, Asturias dug into its own folk traditions with an unmatched passion. By the mid 1980s Asturian home cooking was in every restaurant and with it rose the profile and value of the verdina. Regardless of its recent importation from France, it was adopted wholeheartedly as good honest Asturian food.

It always warms my American heart to see food exchanged so freely, without a whiff of culinary nationalism or fake origin stories about how it was actually discovered right here and those bad old people over there are just claiming it as their own. Indeed, if there is any argument about verdinas, it is whether they were imported from France, or took a more direct route from Mesoamerica like the rest of Phaseolus vulgaris cultivars.

What Is A Good Verdina?

Verdinas are a landrace of Phaseolus Vulgaris originally from France where they are know as flageolet verde. They are picked young. If allowed to mature, they would grow up to be kidney beans. Usually planted in May, they are harvested at the snap-bean stage, when the pods are still green. Usually hung in bunches to dry in the pod, the interior beans will retain their beautiful green color and an intense flavor of chlorophyll. Prized as a fresh bean for cooking at home, they are essentially impossible to find commercially except dried. Even then, demand far outstrips supply and prices can reach as high as €20 per kilo.

How We Like to Eat Them

In Asturias, verdinas are most commonly used as the bean that goes with seafood. You cook fabes with land animals and verdinas with seafood. Many people in both Asturias and Galicia refer to them as fabes de marisco – seafood beans.

That is somewhat changing, and the full range of dishes now see verdinas used in place of fabes. I am partial to them in a lamb stew or with a confit duck leg. I have to agree with Asturians though, they are outstanding with seafood. There is a reason that Verdinas with Clams is such a popular dish here.

Recipes

The following recipes are available using Verdinas: