We’re practically zooming to the month of May and equal parts of me are thinking “Finally!” but also “Already?” 

Either way, I’ll take it. And I say that mostly because we all have little choice when it comes to moving through the calendar. As much as life’s best days make us feel impervious to time’s march forward, we can only find the bright spots associated with each day. And when it comes to late April, I’d say that these moments are far easier to spot. For me, I’ve been eyeballing one on the side of a suburb road for the past few weeks.

Along with other stuff coming into season- like strawberries and nespole (or loquats, as we strangely say in English), fava beans are quite the crop right now. I never really ate fava beans before I got here (and if I did, they certainly weren’t a legume that smacked of memories). But now that I’ve been here for over a year, I can understand their strong connection to Italy—and here in Rome in particular. 

The first of May is Italy’s Labor Day as it is in many other countries. As a national holiday, the usual routine is to take advantage of the free day and go for una gita fuori porta—a sort of day trip just outside of Rome. And you don’t even have to go outside of Rome. You can hit a green space like Villa Pamphili. Enjoy the perceptible change in seasons. Bring some food for a simple but splendid picnic lunch. That’s where the modest fava come into play.

The sign on the street that I’ve been looking at each time I leave the city center of Rome is one that speaks to spring. It’s a wooden sign propped up to oncoming traffic moving around the curve. Printed in black letters are the words “Fave e Pecorino” or fava beans and pecorino cheese. If you weren’t sure what they were talking about, just below is the illustration of the overflowing wares up for sale in the truck just behind the sign. 

The roadside fava stop does brisk business—even if the beans are for sale everywhere. I’d been opting to buy them when in the supermarket, just because it’s easy. Two Sundays ago I was checking out when the cashier stopped after scanning my beans. He looked up at me and ask me a seemingly serious question from behind his facemask. 

“These,” he said while directing a finger to my tub of fave, “how do you eat these?”

If it had been a year earlier, it is most likely I wouldn’t have had an acceptable answer for him. Instead, I was already well read into fava beans and what they mean in Rome. So I gave him a simple answer, “Fave? I eat them with cheese!” I told him.

“Bene!” he said, nodding in approval at my answer. I live in a neighborhood with plenty of international people so I was not surprised by what he said next: “Many people come in here and do not know how to eat these.” I gave him a shrug as he continued on his fava bean discourse.

“I like to eat them like this,” he told me before miming holding a bean in two hands, snapping it in half and popping an imaginary bean in a future maskless mouth. I nodded in agreement. I’d indeed seen this exact motion performed by Italians, and I was not going to start arguing with a Roman about the finer points of local produce preparation. Also, it was a very slow day at the market so he would have time to expound upon this practice. 

If you google fava beans and Rome or Roman recipes, it is really easy to find recipes for preparing something more sophisticated or time-consuming. But really, you don’t need to go this far. If you are not allergic to fava beans (and this is a serious thing for some people), then all you have to do is take your Labor Day armed with a block of pecorino romano cheese and a bag of beans before heading outside with your picnic blanket. Also, a bottle of wine and some pizza bianca might be nice. But that’s just me. 

In any case, the return of the fava bean and indeed the changing weather is a sure sign that we’ll be halfway before May before we know it. It’s a nice feeling, and the (dare I say) easing of restrictions make me feel as though things are possible. Meeting with friends. Perhaps traveling farther afield than the doors of Rome in order to experience new cultures, or be reunited with ones that I have developed an affection for. Really, it’s what I’m thinking about right now each time crack open a bean pod. I take each slightly bitter bean (shelling the outer coating is optional) and then I pair it with the unique saltiness of the pecorino. 

It’s a simple pleasure….fava beans and cheese.  And maybe come this time next year, we’ll get to share even more of these pleasures as a more collective collective. Whether it’s in September or May, that’s how Labor Day should really be celebrated.