Top To Tail

It’s not every day you find magic beans, but everyday beans have their own magic, writes PAULETTE WHITNEY.

- Paulette Whitney

In 1865, in south-west Pennsylvania, John Mostoller spotted a wild goose in the stream that powered his family sawmill, shot it, then took it home for his mother to cook.

I’m sure she felt the mix of emotions that often accompany gifts of wild meat. Gratitude and pleasurable anticipation, accompanied by thoughts of the gory task of removing feathers, feet and innards. While gutting the goose she found a handful of unusual looking beans in its crop and saved them for planting out that spring. The resulting beans, which became known as Mostoller Wild Goose, proved delicious fresh, shelled or dried, and, as a testament to their utility, we’re still growing them 150 years later. John’s mum, Sarah Mostoller, was my kind of woman.

Undoubtedly the Mostollers weren’t the first to grow these beans. Indigenous peoples of North America would have long been growing pole beans. They are, after all, a subsistence gardener’s dream. Not only do they provide soil fertility as they grow, they can be eaten fresh or dried for use in winter. I can imagine that goose gorging itself on somebody’s crop before making its fateful last descent into the Mostoller millpond.