Every week we’ll post a recipe that we both made. This week’s recipe was Fried Green Beans. Printable recipe can be found at the bottom of this post. The original recipe was found in the Cooking With Pryde cookbook by Pressley Ridge.

Robyn’s Take:

This week’s recipe was one that Nance found in a cookbook, scanned, and sent to me for my approval. As is the way, when I got the scan, I thought “Oh, that’ll be neat to try”, and then when it actually came time to MAKE the recipe, I was all wailing and rending my garments, asking why why whyyyyyy Nance hates me so much. I mean, I know. I KNOW. It’s my own stupid fault for okaying the recipe, right? But seriously. Why do you think Nance hates me? Is she jealous because I’ve got so many cats, you think? I bet that’s totally it.

So, fried green beans. Fried. Green beans. I swear, I’ve fried more stuff since we started this site than in all my previous mumblety-six years combined.

Your ingredients:

2 lb fresh green beans (I ended up with 1 1/2 pounds, I think. There’s only the two of us, after all!), flour, eggs, milk, salt, baking powder, and oil.

Just a note – I was all ready to make these damn things, when I realized that the milk was 2 weeks past the expiration date. Yeah, apparently we don’t use milk all that much! But I’ve read – somewhere – that you can use evaporated milk in place of regular milk when you’re cooking or baking (I don’t think I’d eat it on my cereal or anything), and since I always have a can or two of that on hand, I decided to give it a try. I’m pleased to announce that it actually worked okay, so I’m going to keep that in mind for the future.

First, you cook your green beans in salted water. The recipe gave no guidelines (“cook beans in salted water” is all it says), so I’m telling you that I boiled my beans in salted water for 10 minutes so that they were cooked through, but not overdone. You can see that I threw the beans in the pot, then remembered I was supposed to salt the water, and just dumped some water in on top of the beans. I’m such a professional.

Alice snoopervised from her spot near the top of the kitchen cabinets.

“Why you never make anything tasty, lady?”

When the beans are done cooking, drain them and let them cool.

I let them cool for about 10 minutes, then I was impatient and unwilling to wait any longer because AS USUAL I’d waited until an hour before dinner to start making this shit, and WHY do I do this?!

Place the beans on a sheet of waxed paper (I used parchment paper; I’m sure I’ve got waxed paper around here somewhere, but I have no idea where the hell it is. You’d think “With the tin foil and plastic wrap” would be the correct answer, but NO.) and then cover with flour.

I used my hands to kind of roll the green beans around so they’d be coated on all sides.

In a large bowl, mix eggs, milk, baking powder, and salt; whisk together well. Take your floured beans and place in the bowl of egg mixture, then stir so that they’re well coated. I imagine this might work better if you do it in batches, but I did all the beans at the same time.

Heat an inch of oil in a skillet over med-high heat. When it’s hot, spoon beans into the oil and fry until browned. “Turning only once”, says the original recipe. Yeah, well, fuck that. I didn’t turn them at all. I just reached in with the (metal) spoon and stirred once or twice so that the beans wouldn’t stick together too badly.

It didn’t take them too long to cook, and then I put them on a thick layer of paper towels to drain. I think it took about three batches to get all the beans done.

The verdict? NOPE. I mean, they weren’t BAD, but nothing to write home about, nothing I want to have again, and WAY too much of a pain in the ass. NO THANK YOU.

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Nance’s Take:

Our family grew our own food and that’s probably the reason I can’t be bothered with gardening to this day. I’m over the whole becoming one with nature bullshit. That dream died as a child when I was snapping bushels of motherfucking green beans while trying to avoid that little yellow bug that lurked on them. We canned the green beans (oh, the joy of washing jars in scalding hot water) and fried them in lard.  Full disclosure: I do not appreciate fresh green beans.

Since this was a new recipe I decided to buy a bag of what appeared to be fresh beans. I’m suspicious of any green bean that isn’t limp and has a color that resembles camouflage hunting pants.

The color of these green beans looks fake. More full disclosure: I was also making dinner (another new recipe coming soon) and my mother was finishing up the batch of homemade pierogies we had started that afternoon. What does this all mean?  My kitchen was in chaos when I made these stupid green beans.

The recipe called for 2 pounds of green beans. I had exactly 14 ounces.  I realized my error after I had already dumped the full 2 cups of flour on the damn things.

This part really pissed me off because how in the hell was I suppose to stop that baking powder from clumping? I have the same problem when I make French toast and add flour to the eggs/milk. This kind of shit annoys me and if anybody has any idea how to do this, please tell me your secret.

The first green bean goes in. You can see to your left where I had another burner lit up for something else I was making. I was in A.D.D hell.

WTF?  It looks like a worm.

I got fed up and put a bunch of them in the oil because I don’t have all day, beans! Note the oil that’s splattered everywhere – I was getting really cranky.

At this point I had my mom, Rick, The Beagle, Sadie, Waldo, Julie and Felina all up in my kitchen business. Trey came down to nebshit, but I told him to get the hell out of my way so he went back upstairs to his bedroom. He’s a smart young man.

I had better luck with those freaking corn dogs and y’all know what a disaster that was! Just look at that greasy mess of rubbery vegetable-tasting shit.

This is a grocery bag full of floured green beans. We each tried one, hated them, and agreed wholeheartedly to pitch the rest in the garbage.

But wait! A few brave souls tried the beans and actually liked them.

The Beagle finished the fried ones off with a little help from The Chihuahua (aka: Felina/FiFi). And now we know who the freaks in the family really are.

This is definitely a recipe that I’ll never make again.