Austin Baker Rekindles Interest In The Mysterious Mesquite Bean

Despite a warning to wear rattlesnake shin guards when walking through the Hill Country, the only sound I hear is the ticking of grasshoppers, crickets and dragonflies on this 100-degree day in Spicewood, Texas.

I'm hunting mesquite trees, and they bite. Their branches, spiked with two-inch thorns, hold desert-colored, seed-hugging beans that rattle when they're ready to pick. If you break one open and put it in your mouth, it tastes lightly sweet.

"The hotter, the drier, the harsher the climate, the better the beans taste," says Austin baker Sandeep Gyawali, who's showing me where to find mesquite. He's on a mission to revive the long-overlooked bean, harvested from the tree that became famous for smoking Texas barbecue (and upping sales of potato chips).

Most of Gyawali's beans come from ranches in South and West Texas, where the honey mesquite grows sourdough he bakes. He also blends superfine mesquite flour with a little salt into butter that looks like as it's whipped smooth. Spread it on bread and you get that rare thrill of tasting something completely new.