As a child, red beans were always a special treat.
My mother religiously washed her toes in the pot
before the soaking of the beans. Soak, soak, and
soak. I don’t seem to recall the ideal soaking
temperature, mother never wrote down her recipes
for me, she forbade such writings, and that went
double for any pulp fiction scripts, which I was often
known to write—once I knew she was readying the
pot for an overnight soak session.
We had no bean strainer for the following morning
rinses, so mother had me hold our fanciest hand
towel over the kitchen sink, that was usually plugged-
up with fish heads not eaten from the previous night.
I remember my little hands being scalded by the bean
water; but mother said my blisters, they usually formed
after an hour or two, were the most remarkable skin
flowerings she ever saw, at least for a boy in my age
group. Later, we had the grandest blister-popping
Sharing some absurd memories. :)