I Hate Mung Beans!

Rob took a bite of his warm, crispy waffle and watched me as I dragged myself through the kitchen. "What's going on?"

"Oh, nothing," I answered.

"Tell me, is there something bothering you?"

I glared at him as he licked the syrup off his fingers. "How am I supposed to eat MUNG BEANS with the smell of waffles wafting through the house!!?? The doctor said I should eat them every day, but I HATE mung beans!"

"Have you ever eaten mung beans?" he asked.

"NO, but I'm sure I'll hate them."

Rob choked back a chuckle as he carried his dishes to the sink. "Try them," he chirped, "You might be surprised."

"I doubt it," I grumbled.

It's bad enough I'm being denied muffins. Mung beans? Are you kidding me?  The oncologist calls them "scraping foods." Whatever that is. She said she eats them every day, and suggested I do the same. She kindly sent me her private recipe, which is a concoction of mung beans and cabbage with turmeric, celery seed, and cumin spices.

I finally forced myself to comply and went to the grocery store. "Do you carry

MUNG BEANS?" I squawked, making a yuck-face. I guess my tone was a bit intimidating, because the clerk hesitantly pointed down the correct aisle and quickly walked away.

The minute I got home and opened the door, I was greeted with the luscious smell of recently toasted bread. Robbie-dearest was having a big, fat, gooey sandwich. "Well, hello!" he said, shamelessly stuffing another bite in his mouth. "Did you have a nice time shopping, darling?" I didn't answer.

"Well, I guess not," he said with a chuckle. "Want to talk?"

"Nope ... I have to figure out how to cook these hard, green, bean droppings."

By this time, I didn't like myself very much. "I need to be more grateful," I mumbled to myself. Rob went out to feed the chickens. I gazed at the bag of mung beans, trying to think about the starving children in Africa, but it didn't help. Then, I tried to imagine my mother saying, "Get your mind off your problems, dear, and they'll go away." But that didn't cut it either.

Finally, I prayed. Lord, I need Your help. I am being stubborn and ungrateful. This food is meant to bring me health, not harm. Please help me. Help me become more willing to follow the doctor's suggestions. OR... You can heal me before I have to eat mung beans!

My resistance immediately softened. Robert came in and must have felt the shift, because he came over and gave me a warm hug. "Thank you for all your hard work.

I'm really proud of you."

That night, I made a dish with mung beans, cabbage, asparagus, and grated carrots. The turmeric turned everything a weird, dark yellow. I'll just eat it with my eyes closed. It doesn't smell half bad.

I served myself the mung beans and gave Robert something I knew he'd like. When he saw what was on my plate, he chuckled and said, "Let's pray."

I offered him some. "NO!" he gasped. "I don't want to take your food."

The expression on his face cracked me up. "Come on, try it. After all, as you so wisely put it, "You might be surprised."

Thank you, Lord, for turning my mood around when I turned to You. Thank you for laughter and the humble mung bean. Actually, it's not too bad.

Reader, I dare you ...

Mung Beans and Cabbage

Put 4 tablespoons of mung beans in 2 cups of water

Add: 3 tablespoons of brown basmati rice

3 cloves of garlic

1 medium onion, diced

and a small piece of ginger root.

Cook for 30 minutes. Set aside.

In a large saucepan or skillet, melt 2 tablespoons of ghee or butter

Blend in: 1 teaspoon of turmeric powder

1 teaspoon of ground cumin powder

1 teaspoon of celery seeds.

Simmer for about a minute.

Add the cooked beans and rice. Bring back to a boil.

Add: 2 cups shredded cabbage (adjust quantity to your liking)

1 cup chopped asparagus (optional)

1 large shredded carrot (optional)

Heat and cook until the veggies are tender but not overcooked.

Add sea salt and pepper to taste.

Enjoy!