Good morning,

Today I woke up to the sound of blackbirds singing, notepad in hand, checking the morning orders as we always do.

Among today's orders, there are kilos of Atilano's Muchamiel Tender Broad Beans, and I felt like telling you a bit more about my fellow farmer and his work here, in the Valencia orchard.

Atilano is one of us, one of those farmers who still work like their grandparents did. His plot in the orchard breathes calm. No rush, no shortcuts. He fertilizes with natural livestock manure and pampers the soil as if caring for a family inheritance.

Because plants, like all living beings, if they grow with good food and without stress, become strong.

Broad beans that grow at this calm pace develop properly inside. The root goes down to seek its own, the plant feeds at its own rhythm, and the bean forms with substance.

When you taste them, they are not watery or cardboardy. They are buttery, creamy, almost velvety. They yield to the bite without resistance. And the flavor is that of the traditional garden, with a sweet note and a fresh undertone reminiscent of wet earth.

Intensively farmed ones, on the other hand, often rush so much that they remain a mere promise. High volume, little substance. Like that sandwich that looks like a castle but is pure air.

Here, you don't need to be a MasterChef to notice the difference... and just wait until you see the variety Atilano cultivates.

The Muchamiel is a big deal. It originated in Alicante and proudly bears its name. Its pods, when ripe, are long, thin, and elegant, about a good handspan, and display a light green that almost lets light through when they are at their peak. Inside, the beans are small and tender, so much so that they can be eaten whole without peeling when young.

It is an early variety, arriving soon but without foolish haste, with moderate and constant production that does not seek records but quality. And on the palate, it has that delicate sweetness that lingers without being cloying.

In short, it's the Stradivarius of broad beans, and Atilano plays it in tune. And there's one more detail I love...

When we harvest to order in the morning, we choose the pod that sounds lively between the fingers and snaps cleanly if you bend it. It's that crunch that winks at you and says, "I'm perfect." It goes from the plant to the box without sleeping in cold storage, directly to your kitchen for you to enjoy as it should be.

This, which sounds simple, is almost unique in Spain.

Between us, {name}, I also indulge and pick a few for myself, because selling is one thing and being made of stone is another. If you only knew the aroma they leave in the pan with garlic and a drizzle of oil... but I better keep quiet, or you'll tell me I'm making your mouth water unfairly.

I'll leave you a quick old-timer's trick to recognize the good ones without fail. Look at the color; it should be light and vibrant green. Run your thumb along the seam.

If you feel small beans and the pod feels firm but flexible, you're on the right track. And if it snaps cleanly when you break the tip and doesn't string, you're looking at a fine Muchamiel.

In the end, when you choose Atilano's Muchamiel tender broad beans, you're getting tradition, well-tended land, a flavor that needs no tricks, and the work of hands that rise before the sun.

And now that you know what's behind every pod, tell me you're not curious to try them... because I'm getting so hungry, I can't even tell you 🌱.

Thank you for being there, learning about the countryside with us and supporting those of us who work it with care.

A big hug and have a very flavorful week.

Until next time, see you among broad beans and orange trees.

Agricultor

Eduardo Cifre