There is a photograph of Agnes, aged one or two, sitting in her parents’ vegetable garden. She is very small. The green bean plants are not. They tower over her, a dense, climbing tangle of leaves and pods, and she is standing in the middle of them looking extremely pleased with herself. She wrote much later, on the back of the picture: me, amongst green beans.
What would come after the photograph once she had grown a little older than that, Agnes remembers better than any picture could capture. The harvest. She and her brother and her mum, an extra-large laundry basket between them, moving through the garden until it was piled impossibly high. Then back inside, the kitchen table spread with newspaper, the basket tipped over, and the beans cascading out in a heap. And then the work: topping, tailing, snapping. Endless, it felt like. As children, they used to get bored. But then they knew that mum would have let them play outside for a little longer if they helped.
Then, for days, it would be green beans. Every way you could think of. And somehow, every time, they were good.
This was one of the best ways. Green beans, cooked slowly in garlic and tomato until they are completely, contentedly tender. Fagiolini in umido. A handful of ingredients. Low heat. Time. The kind of dish that when you taste it makes you wonder why you ever needed anything more complicated.
Fabio’s mum used to make it with the big flat mangetout that grow in Italian gardens, closer to runner beans than the slender pods you tend to find here in the UK. She preferred them. They are meatier, more substantial, and they hold their texture differently in the sauce. The truth, though, is that fagiolini in umido doesn’t much mind what you give it. Fine French beans. Runner beans. Whatever the garden, or the market, or the season offers. And that is what humble food does. It meets you where you are, and where the seasons are.
Notes from our Venetian kitchen
The tomato sauce is where it asks one thing of you: care. This is a short ingredient list, which means nothing can hide. Agnes’s parents still make their own sauce every summer: garden tomatoes, slow-cooked and bottled, sent north in the famous pacco da giù, the hamper from home. If you don’t know this tradition, it is the ‘care package’ that Italian families living abroad will recognise immediately: a box that arrives from home containing the things you cannot quite replicate wherever you’ve landed. Jars of sauce. Dried pasta. A wedge of aged cheese. The taste of familiar places and memories.
We use theirs when we have it. When we don’t, a good passata — and it must be a good one, the kind that actually tastes of tomatoes — does the job beautifully.
Don’t rush the garlic. It should be soft and golden before the tomatoes go in — but careful not to burn it, a bit of love goes a long way — this is the flavour base everything else builds on.
Season generously, and taste at the end. A little fresh parsley, chopped at the last moment, lifts the whole thing if you have it. Perhaps some roasted cherry tomatoes on the vine, for an abundant presentation. That’s it.
Green beans, tomato, garlic, and patience. It’s funny how the simplest things are always the ones you remember the most.
Green beans in garlicky tomato sauce
Serves 4
- 500g fresh green beans
- 2 cloves of garlic, finely sliced
- 1 can of good quality chopped tomatoes
- 1/2 tbsp tomato puree
- 75ml vegetable stock
- 1 tbsp fresh parsley, chopped, plus extra for serving
- 1 tsp caster sugar (if needed, see instructions)
- Salt and pepper to taste
- 1 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
Directions
1. Prep the green beans
Soak the green beans in cold water for a few minutes, then drain. Trim off the stem ends and cut any very long beans in half.
2. Blanch the green beans
Bring a large saucepan of water to a rolling boil. Salt generously, add the beans, and blanch for 3–4 minutes depending on how crunchy you like them. Lift them straight into a bowl of iced water to stop the cooking and keep their bright colour. Pat dry with a clean tea towel.
3. Start the base
Warm a wide pan over medium heat. Add the olive oil and sliced garlic. Cook gently until the garlic softens and turns lightly golden.
4. Cook the sauce
Add the chopped tomatoes, tomato purée, and stock. Taste for acidity and add sugar only if needed. Season with salt and pepper. Simmer for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the sauce thickens slightly.
5. Combine
Add the blanched beans and chopped parsley. Stir to coat, letting the sauce reduce just enough to lose any watery patches. Keep the heat gentle so the beans warm through without cooking further.
6. Serve
Taste and adjust seasoning. Serve warm or at room temperature, they’re even better once the flavours settle.
Share this recipe:
