March in Maine is a dreary drizzle. Yesterday, it seemed to do a bit of everything outside—rain, sleet, and snow. The day was so cold and gray that I couldn’t bring myself to take my dog, Liam, for a walk, even though he was getting a little stir-crazy. Fortunately, with all that nasty weather, we didn’t lose our power. If I were the traveling sort and the budget allowed, Clif and I would hop on a train and head to North Carolina for the whole month. But what about Liam? That’s three strikes against heading south—I’m a homebody with a very modest budget and a dog. 

A friend, on hearing about my wish to catch a train heading south, has suggested that Liam be “trained” to be a good traveling dog. As vivid as my imagination is, it isn’t good enough to visualize Liam ever being calm enough to travel by train. No, Liam is a homebody, just like his person. 

But things looked better today. The sun came out, and the tops of the ice-coated trees sparkled against the deep blue sky. The icicles outside my window dripped constantly, and soon they will be gone until next winter. 

In my imagination, I could hear peepers in the little swampy pond up the road. I could hear the call of the loons as they returned to the lakes to raise their young. I could hear the ethereal song of the hermit thrush. So many things to anticipate! 

Therefore, in a rather celebratory, if premature, spring spirit, I made a white-bean spread for my lunch. I had two cups leftover from some beans I had cooked for a soup, and that turned out to be exactly the right amount for the spread. 

I could have consulted Mark Bittman’s How to Cook Everything Vegetarian, but I decided to strike out on my own. Success! I toasted some pita bread, put lettuce and a slice of tomato on each half, and smeared some of the bean spread on top of the tomato. 

After such a bracing lunch, why, I felt sure I could deal with the rest of March. 

White bean spread

2 cups of cooked white beans
1 clove of garlic
½ teaspoon of dried thyme
½ teaspoon of salt
Pepper to taste
Olive oil to thin the beans 

Raw garlic does not always set well with me, so as a rule, when I am adding it to an uncooked dish, I always dry-fry it in a frying pan. This mellows garlic’s bite, and it couldn’t be easier. Heat the pan, and when it is warm, add the clove, unpeeled, and cook it, tossing frequently, until a few brown spots appear on the skin. Then, peel it and use. 

Put all the ingredients except for the olive oil in a blender or a food processor. Add a bit of the oil. Blend. Add a bit more oil. Blend some more. Keep doing this until the spread is a consistency that you like. 

Naturally, there are variations on this theme of bean spread. A bit of lemon juice could be added. Fresh thyme or oregano would be much better than dried, but in the winter, fresh herbs in little plastic packs are quite pricey, especially when those herbs are not always as fresh as they could be. 

Until summer, then, I’ll use dried thyme, but fresh herbs will be as eagerly anticipated as the arrival of the peepers, loons, and hermit thrush.