This spring break, I went to London. My return trip saw my suitcase about five pounds heavier, laden with the following: one new shirt, one pair of ballet flats, five museum postcards, two paperback books, and three cans of Heinz Beanz.
I purchased the first nine items with my own, hard-earned money, but the beans came as a gift from my cousin, a real-life grown-up Londoner. To be perfectly honest, though, if they hadn’t, I might have bought them myself.
I. LOVE. Those British beans.
People who want to move to the suburbs talk about waking up to birds singing; people who want to get married talk about waking up to the gentle caress of a spouse. Ever since my return from London, I’ve been talking about waking up to the crunch of a perfectly toasted hash brown combined with the soupy goodness of those wonderful British beans.
On second thought, I’m getting kind of grossed out writing this. Maybe it’s because we’ve been conditioned to accept that a stack of four New York Cheesecake Pancakes makes for a balanced start to the day, but there’s something about beans on toast that perplexes and repels the American mind.
In reality, beans are an incredibly healthy, balanced addition to any diet. The particular can of beans that currently sits on my desk has, in its single serving, 9.7 grams of protein and 7.8 grams of fiber, with only 0.1 grams of saturated fat. I imagine that the self-proclaimed “rich tomato sauce” in which the beans bathe while they wait to be heated and spread on a starch item also adds some vitamins to their nutritional value, but I’m not a scientist, so I can only guess.
I could go on about my love for beans on toast, or beans on hash brown (or beans with anything else—write to me with suggestions!). But I feel that I owe the dear readers of the Herald some realness in this moment, so I must tell you: I don’t know what to do with these three cans of beans.
Do I transfer them to a red Solo cup and heat them up in the “micro” part of my rented MicroFridge? Should I take them down to the dining hall during brunch tomorrow morning and eat them with my Yale Cage-Free Scrambled Eggs? As bean-based meal idea after bean-based meal idea fails to call me to action and open a can, I am beginning to believe that it is not the beans, but this foreign environment they occupy, that makes them seem repugnant.
Here’s a thought: eating beans as a component of a Full English Breakfast at a London Café is an exciting embrace of the local culture. No one would bat an eye. Eating a can of Heinz Beanz as a dorm room snack, no matter how you prepare them, would certainly lead to some questions and raised eyebrows. The magic of the beans has seemed to fade on this side of the pond.
I’m willing to believe that our society should—or could—change to embrace this nutritious and delicious English dish. Away with drunken buttery quesadillas or Shah’s Halal after a night out! When the young people of Yale crave a meal, they should crave a can of Heinz Beanz. The world would be a better and more delicious place.
