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The gym where I work out is a dump.

The two treadmills and four elliptical machines, when they work, wobble and squeak. The stair stepper is wedged in the corner, into which (rumor has it) it went flying, passenger still on board, when it shorted out and sparked, long  before I started using the place. No one ever refills the buckets that are meant to dispense sanitizing wipes for cleaning the machinery after each use. Even if they did, those dainty cloths would be useless on the equipment’s foot pedals. These are typically caked in mud, which is how they get left after the “football team” bursts in from the field, lumbers onto the machines, pumps their legs for 12.5 minutes and leaves in a cloud of dust. We do have six TVs –four of them are in color — and the sound system hisses out the news from our local National Public Radio station.  I do like that part.

Because it’s free, that’s why. I use this place because it’s what my employer has to offer.

But it puts me in a bad mood, the dank and out-of-service cave.  Pisses me off  really – can I say that here? I haven’t even told you about the locker rooms. Except for the occasional exerciser that, like me, gets in and out as quickly as possible on her way to the gym, it’s unpopulated.  Though I did once walk in on two bullish power-hitters fighting like junkyard dogs (war does not recognize gender-specific changing room boundaries). For a week now, there have been mop buckets stationed just in case the ceiling starts to fall. Sixty days ago  – I don’t exaggerate – one of the showers began trickling in a steady stream that couldn’t be shut off, 20 gallons easy down the drain daily. I told Building Services, and I told the guy at the front table too. Three times. And still the water leaks.

And that door. Since February, one bathroom stall has been locked from the inside even though it’s empty. (Then again, who can say? If someone had died in there, they’d never be found). That peeling-painted metal door jeers at me each time I walk in, a scornful reminder that we are in a recession and facility maintenance, such as they are, has no time for pooling water or peeling paint or the headless shower heads. Occasionally I get way past frustrated. I’m sure that’s why I did what I did.

Maybe it was also because before I ever got to the gym that day the web project I’d been working on crashed, hard, and took my entire morning’s worth of work with it.  Or maybe it’s because the desk-tapping, loud-talking guy who sits next door to me has been using the office as daycare and I’d heard the theme song to Wall-E one too many times that day. Quite possibly it was just that I had a Craving for chocolate, the ferocity of which was rivaled only by my turbulent determination to resist.  We shall never know. All I know is that I walked into the locker room and that bathroom stall’s exposed metal door flashed at me despite the dim light, and dear readers, at last I did something about it.

I  scowled at that door so hard that it made my cheeks hurt, and then I raised my knee in a perfectly practiced box-kick, leaned sideways and brought my foot flat against the side of that insouciant door. As it swung back and forth on its ungreased hinges, hammering the stall wall, I began to laugh, a self-satisfied and unselfconscious thing, completely absent of embarrassment or regret. Then I turned around and saw the startled co-ed, slack-jawed and frozen behind me. She looked at me for a moment longer, and she didn’t laugh. She glanced past me, deep into the barracks and saw that it was empty except for me. She hurried backwards out the door.

All this really was just to say this: next time I’ll just eat the chocolate.

*(Also, I’m turning 40 next month, which freaks me out in more ways than I can say, but one good thing has come of it:  I’ve decided to give myself the gift of a real gym. So I might as well capitalize on the story potential of this one while it lasts).

On Eating the Chocolate

Once again, I’ll be an exhibitor at the Seed Saver’s Exchange annual conference ^[2]this year. Giving out food is the surest way to to talk to everyone – and my plan is to do that  again ^[3]this year too.  So I’m working on a recipe for heirloom black bean cookies.

With a lot of help from Bakewise ^[4]and even more from Michael Ruhlman’s ^[5]Ratio (a brilliant gem which I will be telling you about in a post or two), I hammered out a basic black bean cookie recipe, and then modified it. I’m still working, but this produces a solid, tasty treat, one that I know you could pull over on your kids. Well, except for the grown-up twist added by the lavender and lemon zest.

But more on the beans. Why would I do such a thing to a perfectly good cookie? Black beans often have chocolate overtones, and unlike a lot of white beans, black ones lose the beany flavor when they’re cooked, making them fit seamlessly into a dough. Is this a healthy cookie? Well, the fiber and protein might help to balance the butter and sugar a little….

I went with an heirloom black runner called Ayocote Negro, which came from Rancho Gordo ^[6]. A bit of history: the Ayocote Negro was widely used pre-conquest, but then fell out of favor in Mexico except in Morelos, where they are still cultivated and cooked.  A deep jewel-toned purplish black, the beans are meaty and creamy with hints of chocolate and coffee.

And the lavender. You think it belongs in soap and in your great aunt’s handkerchief drawer? Maybe, but you can eat it too  – and you should.  The aroma is both delicate and overwhelming, which tells you something: use it sparingly. It’s one of the herbs in traditional herbs de Provence, which is used in  many French savory dishes. But lavender has a real place in baked goods too – the ethereal flavor melds  well with butter, eggs and lemon. Its unique taste is reminiscent of pine and alderwood, tempered by sweetness.

Wine Pairing:
One last thing: these are sturdy cookies and they deserve to be served with wine. You can imagine, it’s a tough pairing. I checked in with Lucy ^[7], and after she finished cursing, here’s what she said: Wow, this is like wine pairing hazing.  Well, I do love a challenge. Since this is a dessert, Banyuls makes sense.  It pairs very well with chocolate and comes from southern France, heaven for lavender lovers.  However, you’dd need to find just the right Banyuls  to make sure the lavender wasn’t overpowered by all of the chocolate affinity.  Or how about Syrah?  A bit unusual, but many Syrahs have the flavor profile of both chocolate AND lavender.  Your typical American Syrah has almost as much alcohol as any dessert wine so it’s fine for an after dinner drink and most people have one on the shelf.  (As opposed to Banyuls which requires a trip to the wine store for all but the greatest of cork dorks.)  If the lemon flavor is strong Vin Santo might also work, but I promise nothing.  I’m a heavy drinker NOT a miracle worker.

But. I can see my word counter ticking ever upward – I’ve gone on way too long, even for me. Shall we just get to the cookies already?

Fudgy Black Bean Cookies with Lavender and Lemon Zest
1 large egg
1 cup Ayocote Negro beans (or other black beans)
8 oz (1 cup) butter
8 oz (1 cup) raw sugar
1 tablespoon boiling water
juice of one lemon, heated
Zest of 2 lemons, plus more for garnish
1 ½ cups flour
½ tsp salt
1 tsp baking powder
2 teaspoons fresh lavender flowers

In a food processor, puree the beans with the egg.

With an electric mixer, in a separate, large bowl, cream the butter and ½ cup of the sugar. Combine the boiling water and the warmed lemon juice and mix in the other ½ cup of raw sugar; stir until the sugar crystals melt, then add this to the butter. Combine , then add the bean/egg mixture and the lemon zest and beat until incorporated.

In a small bowl, combine the flour, salt, baking powder and lavender. Stir well, then add to the wet ingredients and beat on low until a wet dough has formed. If the dough is too much like batter, add another ½ cup flour (I know, this is blasphemy in baking, but it’s okay, trust me). Mix well, then cover and chill for 45 minutes.

Preheat oven to 360. Drop the dough by spoonfuls onto a parchment-lined baking tray. Bake for 8 minutes, then sprinkle the tops of the slightly flattened cookies with reserved lemon zest and raw sugar. Place back in the oven and continue baking for another 6 minutes, until the cookies are firming but moist. Remove from oven and let them cool. Enjoy – and tell me what you think.

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