Pork and Beans and Beans

Take Two on the Pot Pork.

I cooked up a pot of Full Belly beans à la Jamie Oliver from his book Jamie at Home (how's that for name dropping on the bean and recipe sources? I'm becoming such a food snob) and piled them into a bowl with some pork, some goozle and some green beans.

Man, it was good!

Jamie Oliver's Humble Home-Cooked Beans

11 ounces dried cranberry or cannellini beans, soaked in cold water for at least 12 hours
3 cloves garlic, unpeeled
a few sprigs of fresh thyme (got them out of my garden)
a sprig of fresh rosemary (ditto)
3 bay leaves
1 stick celery, trimmed
1 small potato, peeled and halved
2 cherry tomatoes
extra virgin olive oil
red wine vinegar
a few sprigs of fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped
4 slices of sourdough bread (he serves his beans on toast)

Drain the soaked beans and rinse with lots of cold water. Put them in a deep pot with everything except the oil, vinegar, parsley and bread, and cover them with cold water. Put on heat and bring slowly to a boil; cover with a lid and simmer very gently for 45 minutes or until beans are soft. (Here, I added the goozle left in the bottom of crock pot when I made the Pot Pork recipe and then just enough water to cover the beans - good move!)

Drain beans in a colander, reserving enough of the cooking liquid to cover them halfway up when put back into the pot (I saved all the cooking liquid - kept the rest for some other future meal and filled the bean pot as Jamie recommends). Remove the garlic, tomatoes, celery, potato and herb stems from the beans; discard celery and herb stems. Squeeze out the garlic and tomatoes from their skins onto a plate with the potato and mash together with a fork, then stir them back into the beans. Season well with salt and pepper, pour in three good glugs of olive oil and a few splashes of vinegar.

Steam some fresh green beans. In a wide soup or pasta bowl, ladle in a nice helping of dried beans and liquid, top with Pot Pork and surround with fresh beans. Dig in. Oh, baby!

Tribute Beans

You know that feeling when you are digging around in the freezer and come up with a frozen gem you had forgotten because it was there for 'way too long?  A mixture of puzzlement (what is that? when did I put it in there?) and triumph (wow, cool thing for dinner!). That's just how I felt when I unearthed a smoked turkey thigh that I bought 'way back in 2017 and forgot. I couldn't even remember where I purchased it until I read the label - El Cerrito Natural Grocery!

I also had some pinto beans from Rancho Gordo that were a gift from Ferrari-Carano vineyards last Christmas when we attended their holiday celebration with Cousin Jan. So, I put the beans to soak and the turkey to thaw, dreaming of dinner the next day.

And the day after that. And the day after that! I forgot that what looks like a small package of beans makes a boatload once soaked, so I had plenty for us and for our neighbor Doreen, who was suffering from bronchitis. 

I used as my template a recipe that came with the beans, a recipe dear to the heart of Don Carano, the founder of the winery who passed away last year. I like the idea of giving beans as a tribute to Don, don't you?

I did change up the recipe. Don't I always?

Smoked Turkey and Pinto Beans

2 cups dried pinto beans
2 cups water, or 2 cups of chicken broth, enough to cover (I used water)
2 chicken bouillon cubes
1/4 pound lean bacon or salt pork (I used lardons)
1 medium yellow onion, chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
4 fresh sage leaves or 1/4 tsp dried (I'm not a big sage fan, so I omitted this)
1 small hot red pepper, dried, with seeds removed (didn't have so I did a generous shaking of Cholula hot sauce instead)
1/2 tsp sugar
1 Tbs chili powder
1 Tbs Worcestershire sauce (didn't have, so used soy sauce)
salt and pepper to taste

*1 smoked turkey thigh, cubed off the bone (not Don's idea)

Soak beans overnight in cold water. Drain and rinse. In a medium pot, sauté bacon, onion, and garlic, Add beans and cover with water or chicken broth. Add 2 chicken bouillon cubes if using water. Add sage, red pepper, chili powder, sugar, salt and pepper. (*Here, I added my smoked turkey meat to cook along with the beans. It was already cooked, but I wanted it to share its goodness with the beans). Cover and cook over medium heat for 45 minutes or until beans are tender. Add Worcestershire sauce and adjust seasonings. Serve with Italian sweet sausages, French bread, and Ferrari-Carano Zinfandel.

 So good, so deeply smoky and satisfying, so sustaining and warming were these beans and turkey that we ate them for a week and still weren't tired of them by the time we got to the bottom of the pot. The sauce that formed around them was perhaps the best part - I literally scraped the bottom of the bowl to get every drop. Goozle heaven!

Next time, I'll make half the recipe but, all in all, I think Don would have been pleased with his tribute beans.

Trying Tamales

Funny that after all these years of living in California and loving Mexican food as I do, I had never tried tamales. My friend the Mad Meat Genius decided I needed to remedy that so he brought me six lovely tamales made by a wonderful Mexican lady he knows.

We met at Catahoula for a cup of coffee and the tamale exchange even though he had been sick for a week and was still feeling pretty shaky. He is a good man.

He said that all I needed to do was to heat them briefly in the microwave and serve them with a little hot sauce. He even provided the hot sauce, about which I will write tomorrow.

Then, he learned that I had never had homemade frijoles refritos (refried beans) and the look on his face was one of classic disbelief. Never?? So, he gave me a quick rundown of his recipe, pointed me toward a tiny Salvadorean market up the street where I could purchase the traditional pinto beans, made me promise faithfully to try them, and retired to his bed to rest up for his next Meat Adventure.

I snagged the last package of pintos from the little market and took my loot home. The beans need to soak for several hours so I covered them with water and went off to do other things, returning in the late afternoon to drain, then simmer them for an hour or so, until they were very soft. I also decided to make some Mexican rice to accompany the rest, which turned out to be a stellar idea. I had no recipe for the rice, so I winged it, just trying to duplicate the flavors I find when we eat at my favorite Mexican restaurant. I wasn't totally successful at copying but the rice I made was - dare I say? - even better.

The tamales were pure Mexican cielo - tender pork with green chilies, wrapped with corn masa and steamed inside the corn husks. We unwrapped the husks to find the masa imprinted with the texture of the wrapping, gently lifted out the tamales and dove in. No wonder Chilebrown wanted me to try these! Fantástico! We are deeply, deeply in his debt.

Mexican Rice

1 cup brown rice
1 Tbs butter
2 cups chicken stock
1/2 large onion, chopped
3 Tbs. chopped tomatoes, plus juice from the can (about 3 Tbs? of juice)
2 small minced sweet peppers, about 1/2 cup
1 clove garlic, minced
1/2 tsp chili powder

Melt the butter in a medium sized pot and sauté the onions in it for a few minutes. Add rice and toss in the oniony butter until coated and cook until the grains turn opaque, stirring frequently to avoid burning. Add the chicken stock and the rest of the ingredients, stirring to mix thoroughly, cover and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to simmer and keep covered. Brown rice takes a little longer to cook - about an hour.

Homemade Frijoles from Chilebrown's Directions

1/2 lb pinto beans
2 Tbs bacon fat
4 cups water
garlic salt to taste
about 1 cup water in which beans were cooked

Soak the beans for several hours, or overnight (Chilebrown doesn't soak his beans). Drain and place in a pot with water to cover by about an inch. Bring to a boil, then cover and lower heat to a simmer for about an hour, or until the beans are very soft and ready to be mashed. Drain the beans, reserving the cooking water.

Melt bacon fat in a wide frying pan (cast iron works well). Toss the drained beans in the bacon fat until well coated. With a potato masher, mash the beans, adding enough cooking liquid to achieve the desired consistency and continuing to mash and add liquid - the beans will absorb a surprising amount of the liquid. Sprinkle with garlic salt (Chilebrown just mentioned salt, but I got a nifty new garlic salt grinder for Christmas so I strayed into unknown territory here) to taste and mix it in. My refritos had more texture than I'm used to seeing in Mexican restaurants, more "rustic," but we actually liked that better. Serve hot. If had thought to include some sprigs of cilantro, this would have been a prettier picture.

Neighbor Favors, Part Two

Probably the most talented home cook I know is my brother's wife, Ann, who has been known to make Julia Child's cassoulet from scratch, including making her own sausage to start. Imagine! When I received a gift of duck legs from my neighbor Theresa, I thought briefly about making that hallowed recipe but once I started reading it, I changed my mind. Even retired, I don't have that kind of time and with three kinds of meat needing immediate preparation, I really didn't have that kind of time.

Instead, I did what I usually do - I improvised. I read a number of online recipes as well as Mrs. Child's and came up with a version that incorporates, I hope, most of the wonders of this plain and hearty dish with a bit less of the fuss. I didn't have confit duck legs, so it wasn't the same, but I like to think it's still pretty good.

Impromptu Cassoulet

2 links of spicy Italian sausage (or bulk spicy sausage)
2 duck legs, cut into four pieces each (I used a big, heavy knife to chop through the bones)
1 cup small dry white beans, such as Navy beans
1 quart beef broth
1 bouquet garni* including 1 bay leaf (1/2 if it's a California bay leaf), 2 sprigs fresh thyme, a small bunch of fresh flat leafed parsley, 5 or so whole peppercorns, 2 sprigs of celery leaves)
olive oil
2 carrots, cut in 1" chunks
1 large onion, chopped
3-4 garlic cloves, finely chopped

Quick-soak beans by covering them in with water by about 1" and bringing them to a boil. Off the heat, let them sit for about an hour. (You can also soak them without boiling overnight or for at least 8 hours if you have lots of time).

While the beans are soaking, squeeze dollops of the Italian sausage out of the casings and into a preheated, oiled pan. Brown the sausage, then set aside. In the same pan, brown the duck legs thoroughly and remove the skin (you can make cracklings from the skin if you slowly fry it in a separate pan and I have heard that the rendered duck fat from this process is heaven to cook with, although I haven't tried it myself as yet). Set aside. Pour out most of the fat from the pan, then add the carrots and onion and cook until soft, deglaze with a little of the beef broth so you get all the goodies.

After the hour of soaking, drain the water from the beans and replace it with the beef broth; if you don't have enough broth, add some water - you want the liquid to cover the beans. Add the bouquet garni to the beans and gently boil until the beans are tender, about an extra 45 minutes-1 hour. Remove the bouquet garni and discard.

Assemble the dish by pouring the beans into a shallow, ovenproof casserole dish and mixing them with the onions, carrots and deglazing liquid. Nestle the meats in amongst the beans, making sure they are covered with liquid. If they aren't, add a little water or broth. Bake, covered, in a 350 degree oven for an hour or two - until the scents tell you that all is one in the universe. The duck will be falling off the bones and the liquid will have turned to savory sauce. You can mash some of the beans against the side of the casserole and mix them in to thicken the sauce if it seems too watery.

I like to serve this with lightly buttered garlic toasts, slices of baguette that have been toasted and rubbed with garlic. You can make a garlic crumb topping if you prefer. Add a little olive oil to a skillet and cook a clove or two of minced garlic until fragrant, just about a minute. Add 1-2 cups bread crumbs (fresh) and continuing cooking and stirring until the crumbs are crisp and golden, a few minutes more. Top the casserole with these crumbs, or serve them alongside in a bowl for sprinkling over each serving.

This is such a hearty meal that you won't need more than a green salad to finish the plate.

*A bouquet garni is a French term for a little "teabag" of herbs and flavorings made with a square of cheesecloth and tied with cotton string. Make the string extra long on one end so you can tie in to the handle of the pot for easy retrieval. You could just put all these seasonings loose in the pot but then they are the devil to fish out later.

Beany, Baby

I've been reading "Mastering the Art of French Eating" by Ann Mah, the story of the year she spent alone in Paris while her diplomat husband was posted to Iraq on an unaccompanied mission. It's a fun read for a couple of reasons, and her chapter about cassoulet got me thinking about using more beans now that fall has arrived. Our nutritionist recommends them as well.

So, I got busy inventing a bean dish. Of course, it's impossible to invent a dish - everything has been done before - but it was new to me so I think of it as my own idea. I was inspired by tagines I had in Paris in a tiny little North African restaurant where the owner was the chef and the server, too. He would likely have used chick peas rather than beans, but My Beloved has a deep, abiding loathing for chick peas, and beans are more French anyway, so I used beans. Our North African host poured mint tea into tiny cups from on high, at least a foot above the cups, and never spilled a drop. Indelible memories, that's what Paris makes. 

We had purchased some spicy lamb merguez sausages from Bel Campo meats in Larkspur Landing and they seemed like the perfect foundation for a beany sort of a dish, since the beans would help to calm the spice. I browned them in olive oil in a large ovenproof casserole, then added spears of onion, rough chop of garlic, thick chunks of zucchini, two cans of cannellini beans, (one drained and one with its liquid), and a generous drift of herbes de Provence. 

Into a 300 degree F oven for about 90 minutes. After 60 of those minutes, I raised the oven temperature to 350, since things did not seem to be progressing as fast as I might like. 

It needed salt at the table, but it was otherwise just as I had hoped. The zucchini all but melts and its dark skin gives a tiny bite of bitterness to the dish. The herbes de Provence lend that deeply funky herbal quality that I love. The onions and garlic sweeten as they soften. The merguez bites were nicely spicy, not painful, but they got your attention. And those creamy beans framed all the other ingredients in velvet.

I'd make this again and again. Love those beanies, Baby!

Merguez Zucchini Stew, serves four

Preheat oven to 325 degrees F.

Olive oil
3 slender merguez sausages, perhaps 1/2 pound
1 yellow onion, cut into wedges through the root end so they stay together
2 large cloves garlic, roughly chopped
2 cans cannellini beans, one drained and one undrained
4 small zucchinis, cut in chunks ( cut them in about 1" triangles)
About 1 Tablespoon of herbes de Provence

In a large Dutch oven or heavy ovenproof casserole, brown sausages in a little olive oil. If they render too much fat, pour out some, but keep at least a slick of that flavorful fat to add richness to the dish. Lower the heat, and add onion and cook until it colors from the sausages and softens a little. Add garlic and cook until fragrant, being careful not to let it burn. Add the beans, the zucchini chunks and the herbes de Provence, cover, and slide into the oven for about 90 minutes.

With a big spoon, dig down until you get some sausage, some veggies and some beans for each serving.

What Happened?

Here's a mystery for you - what happened to my beans?

I loaded up the crock pot with all kinds of lovely ingredients such as pinto beans, chopped tomatoes (a good canned brand), onions, garlic, beef broth and jalapeño sauce, set the temperature to low and left it to bubble away all day.

I expected to have these beans as part of a dinner using the last of Chilebrown's tamales, which I had thawed that day.

These are the very same pinto beans I used successfully to make refritos about a week ago but this time they wouldn't cook. After simmering all day, the beans were nearly as hard and mealy as when I put them in. So, I improvised a substitute for dinner and left the beans to simmer all night long figuring they just needed more time.

Well, they got plenty of time - all night and all the next day and still they were mealy, not softly yielding as one would expect. I kept tasting and adding liquid, hoping to resurrect them, but no dice! I finally threw them out. I hate wasting food but they were truly inedible.

So, what happened to my beans? Maybe someone out there can give me a lesson in cooking beans in a crock pot?

Food To Mourn By

My cooking for the past several weeks has gone to pot. I have done quick and easy, not long and careful, ever since we lost Cora. So, there wasn't much to show you or to talk about for a while there. But, it helped to babysit our neighbor's dog, Sandy, for a few days while she took her mother away for a long weekend of girlie fun and, slowly, we are starting to expect a quiet house with no ecstatic greeting when we return home. It's a cliché, but life does go on.

We have been having a series of cool, windy, overcast days when the fog clears only briefly in the early afternoon. I'd normally bitch about that but it suited our mood, so what the heck. It gave me an excuse to dive back into comfort foods when we really needed comfort. One of the best I made was Jacques Pépin's White Bean and Ham Stew. Called "garbure," it's a hearty dish from Southwestern France. The link above will take you to the real recipe - I made some changes since I didn't have all the ingredients nor the energy to go out and get them. I think M. Pépin's original recipe, which I used as an outline for how to proceed, would probably be better than mine, but even my bastardized version is tasty and deeply satisfying.

I started with dried beans and, seeking to dispel some of the inevitable gas, soaked them in two changes of water over two days before composing the stew in my crockpot. I had a ham hock in the freezer, so I thawed that and used only the one in a large pot of stew; happily, it flavored the entire pot with smoky goodness. 

I wouldn't have thought of adding potatoes or root veggies to a bean dish, but we liked all the bland flavors and varying textures. Tasty, but not challenging, it is good food to mourn by.

White Bean and Ham Stew with Cheesy Toasts

1.5 cups small white beans, such as Navy beans, sorted and rinsed, and soaked for two days (If you don't have two days, just cook the beans longer in more water)
1 smoked ham hock
1 large carrot, cut into 1/2" chunks
1 large onion, cut into wedges through the stem end
2 stalks celery, cut into 1/2" chunks
8-10 radishes, large ones halved
6-8 small round potatoes, large ones halved or quartered
Salt, pepper

Rustic bread, toasted
1 clove garlic, cut in half sideways
Swiss or gruyere cheese

After soaking the beans for a day or two, pour off the soaking water and add the beans, the ham hock, and water to barely cover to your crock pot. Cook on high until the beans begin to be tender - mine took four hours - then remove the ham hock to a cutting board, peel off the skin and discard, and chop the meat into small, pieces, discarding bones and gristly bits. Return the meat to the bean pot with the vegetables and continue cooking until the beans and veggies are soft. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Toast slices of a rustic bread such as Pain au Levain, rub with cut side of the garlic, and top with cheese. Place them on a baking sheet and run them briefly under the broiler to melt the cheese. 

Scoop the bean stew into shallow bowls and serve with warm toasts.

Look Out!

This blogging thing is funny.

I started Zoomie Station originally just to keep my writing skills up and my mind active in retirement, but it has become so much more than that. A way to make friends from far away and close by. A way to be more thoughtful and adventurous about the food I cook. A way to access family memories. A peculiar form of artistic expression. And, sometimes, it's just plain silly, good for a belly laugh.

Take this photo, for example - our dinner a few nights ago when I didn't feel much like cooking. A couple of my favorite Coleman's hot dogs snugged next to some doctored up Boston baked beans from a can. I snapped the photo as usual and sat down to dinner.

This morning, when I was uploading the photo, I noticed the little kid in yellow shirt and black shorts on the plate, playing with his dog. He looks up at me with a startled expression - "Look Out!" I thought, "you're about to be crushed by two giant logs!" Maybe his dog is trying, like Lassie, to warn him of impending danger. Silly stuff.

Re-Doctored Beans and Hot Dogs

I usually make my mother's recipe for doctored baked beans but not only do they take hours of cooking, they also include maple syrup and, as much as I adore maple syrple, I've been thinking they are just too sweet. But, I have always loved the citrus she added to them, so I decided to try doctoring them myself and this is the result. My Beloved took a bite, unenthusiastically as he was expecting the usual, and got a pleased smile on his face. "These are the best baked beans I have ever eaten," he purred. That's good enough for me!

1 15 oz can of B&M baked beans (I like this brand - the beans are small and tasty)

1/2 chopped onion

1 orange, zested with a micro-plane zester

1 tsp butter

4 Coleman's hot dogs

In a small pot, melt the butter and sauté the chopped onion until clear. Add the beans and the orange zest and heat together for about 5 minutes. (I was going to add the juice of the orange, too, but the inside of mine was nasty so I'll try that next time). Lay the hot dogs on top of the beans, pushing them down until they are about half-covered. Heat until the hot dogs are done, about an additional 10 minutes.

Franks And Beans

I grew up in a house with an elegant mother. She was the kind of woman who actually changed clothes for dinner, who ate with her sterling flatware every day, who used her best china daily, and who insisted on good table manners from her brood of somewhat less elegant children. She often despaired of her four heathens.

I was the worst.

I have always preferred a big steak to petit fours. Give me meatloaf rather than soufflé. I like spare ribs, finger-lickin' chicken, and corn on the cob. 

And hot dogs. Especially hot dogs. I am a hot dog connoisseur. 

Last weekend, we drove down to Alameda with a threefold mission. To deliver some Hanukkah gelt as a surprise for Sari and Jeff (Thanksgivukkah is fast approaching). To explore the dog park there with our buddy Cora (she had a fine time barking, chasing the dogs who were chasing balls and frisbees, and just generally being a dog for a change instead of our beloved child). And to go to Baron's to select some freezer meats - we love Baron's.

Our errands completed, we were in search of some lunch. I noted a sign on the meat counter that pointed down the hall to a small seating area - Baron's has added a sandwich shop!  With the promise of a Black Dragon sandwich, we hurried down the hall to place our orders. Black Dragon is their signature spice rub, usually offered in a marinated tri-tip roast that causes major swooning among our guests when we serve it. It is made up of many different spices, reportedly including pepper and coffee. 

When we got there, however, we noted other even more delightful offerings so we ordered those. My Beloved ordered their hot roast beef sandwich with caramelized onions and, to my delight, they had their house made hot dogs so, of course, I had to try one. That hot dog was really delicious, snapping with juicy flavor and served on a fresh, firm bun from the Feel Good Bakery in the same building. 

But I also ordered some baked beans. 

Now, you and I know what to expect from baked beans - sweet, soft, nice-but-not-spectacular, right?  Well, not in this case - these were Black Dragon beans, dark, reddish-brown beans seasoned with the same flavors as that eye-rolling, tongue-tingling tri-tip. They were not at all sweet, just deeply spicy and grown up. If regular franks and beans are for kids, these are franks and beans for really big kids.

My elegant mother would probably have turned up her nose at "tube steak" and beans. And she'd have been missing a treat.

Bean Heaven

Things got pretty darn chilly around here just before Christmas. Of course, our version of "chilly" may well be your definition of "balmy," but we Californians like to whine when the weather is less than ideal.

It was rainy as well as chilly, so hearty meals immediately came to mind. I read on "Cookblog" about a sort of ersatz cassoulet that Peter made, and it inspired me to simplify his recipe but to steal a couple of ideas from it.  I liked that he cooked the beans separately until almost tender in water, herbs and garlic to give them their own extra flavor boost, and I liked that he used duck goozle instead of confit duck legs to give a nod to tradition and additional richness.

I didn't have duck goozle, but I did have lamb/beef goozle and two lamb shoulder chops, so mine was all about the lamb.

I added bacon to the bean water (I used Navy beans, out of sentiment) as well as thyme and garlic - you simply can't go wrong with bacon. When the beans were nearing tenderness, I sautéed in a separate pan the lamb chunks in a little olive oil until they were nicely browned, and deglazed the pan with about two cups of lamb goozle and a little red wine and brewed coffee, using a rubber spatula to stir all the caramelized goodies off the bottom of the pan. Dumped the beans, the contents of the pan, and the bean water into my heavy enameled casserole and slid it into a slow oven for about four hours.

When it emerged, while the top was crusty and wonderful, there was still a lot of juice around the stew and I worried a little that I had added too much water. The first taste dispelled that concern - the bean goozle was richly flavored - I'd have happily drunk that from a glass. The lamb was rich and tender, the bacon just a kiss of a hint of a suggestion, and the beans!  Omigosh, the beans!  We have never had beans that packed such a wallop! They were deeply, warmly flavorful, heavenly beans.

I butter-steamed some Swiss chard with garlic to go alongside and that was also an inspired idea. The slightly bitter greens were a great accompaniment to the rich stew. This is ambrosia for some brawny, muscular gods who need a little warmth on a raw day up on Mount Olympus.

Maiden Voyage

Tasty, richly flavorful and inexpensive, lamb shanks deliver a lot of punch for the money. They do take a long time to cook, however, and back in my working days, I usually only had them in restaurants where someone else was taking the time to make them tender and delicious.

Now that I'm retired, I have made them several times - time is no longer the scarce commodity. And, now that I have my wonderful new Dutch oven, I can even brown the shanks and braise them in the same pot - no loss of flavor and only one pot to clean up!

Here's the maiden voyage of my cast iron wonder - lamb shanks with pinto beans. The meat was so tender as to make chewing virtually unnecessary and the beans had made very good friends with the other veggies I added to the pot. And the goozle! OMG, the goozle! My kingdom for some good bread to sop up this goozle!

I think you can tell I like my new Dutch oven. Here's the recipe for this little taste of heaven, should you already have a Dutch oven. You could do this in a crock pot, too, but be sure to transfer all the browned stuff from the browning pan into the crock pot or you'll miss all kinds of flavor.

Brown Braised Lamb Shanks with Pinto Beans. Serves four hearty eaters.

4 large shallots, halved through the stem end
6 small boiling onions, halved through the stem end
4 cloves garlic, sliced
2 lamb shanks
4 carrots, peeled and cut into chunks
2 bay leaves
2 big pinches of Herbes de Provence
1 big pinch lavender
1 quart beef stock or a mixture of beef stock and a stout red wine
1/2 lb. dried pinto beans (I had these on hand but any dried beans would do) 1/4 lb would be plenty if you don't want leftovers.
Olive oil sufficient for browning the shanks

In the morning, wash and cover with 2" of water the beans. Leave them to soak for at least two hours.

After lunch, slowly bring the Dutch oven up to temperature and brown the lamb shanks in olive oil in the bottom of the Dutch oven, giving them a good sear to caramelize the juices and give the shanks an appealing shade of brown. Remove the shanks to a plate. Add the onions and shallots, cut side down, and brown them in the same pot. Sprinkle the garlic slices over the other alliums and cook for a few minutes. Add the rest of the ingredients, topping them with the shanks, pouring over any accumulated juices from the plate and bringing to a boil before covering and placing in a slow (250-300 degree) oven. No need to preheat the oven.

The shanks will cook for about four hours or so. If you're a fussy cook like me, you might want to turn the shanks once or twice during the cooking, but it's not essential.

We found this to be plenty for two meals for us, plus leftover beans for the freezer and to make soup with. If you don't want leftovers, reduce the amount of beans by half or more, and reduce the amount of broth by a like amount, as well.

Beaned

This fall, I seem to be all about the bean. And I'm reading about beans everywhere. The book I just finished, "Mastering the Art of French Eating," has a cassoulet recipe that takes days to make. All my magazines have bean recipes and this week's Sunday Chronicle served up a story about turkey cassoulet, as well. 

When on a recent outing I found a package of Rancho Gordo Tarbais beans, grown locally from seeds imported from France, I decided to give in to my cravings and try making cassoulet. I followed a general outline but substituted some important ingredients, as well. I'm not a huge fan of duck, and especially not confit, so I used chicken thighs instead. We had some garlic sausages so those went in, too. The beans were rinsed and soaked briefly since they were pretty fresh, then cooked in chicken stock. The meats were well browned separately in my enameled cast iron pot, then set aside until I combined them with the beans. Over three days, I reheated the casserole to make the much-desired crust on top, finally serving the dish on the third evening.

It seems like a lot of rigamarole for a single meal (actually, it made several meals for us - perhaps a few too many for My variety-loving Beloved) but the idea is to blend the flavors and to cook the beans to velvet without turning them to mush. 

When you serve it, each spoonful rolls off the spoon glistening with its own gravy, each bean separate but velvety and each of the meats cooked to moist softness. This is hearty fare and a small serving is plenty, but be sure to give everyone a little chunk of sausage and a piece of the chicken along with the beans. 

Another time, I might break even more with tradition and add zucchini to the final cooking, just to lighten the dish and add a tiny bit of bitterness, but even this way it was warming and filling and perfect for a crisp fall evening.

I saved a few of the Tarbais beans and I'm going to plant them in the garden next spring to try to grow my own. I have no idea if this will work but I couldn't resist trying.  Now off to the Interwebs to see if I can find out the best way to store my beans until I'm ready to plant. Hoping to be beaned again next year.

His Winnings

When I returned from my latest sojourn to North Carolina, I discovered a fat, smoked summer sausage in the fridge, along with several hefty blocks of bright orange cheese. Inquiring of My Beloved as to their origin, as they are nothing he has ever purchased before, I learned that they were the spoils of a bet between him and an old pal over the outcome of the playoff game between the San Francisco Forty-niners and the Green Bay Packers, where Tom lives. Had San Francisco lost, My Beloved would have sent Tom a care package of iconic San Francisco foods; because Green Bay lost, we got cheese and this nice little Nueske's sausage from the Cheesehead.

The juxtaposition of smoked sausage and North Carolina brought Red Beans and Rice to mind. There are recipes galore on the interwebs, so I chose a simple one from Epicurious.com to modify. I couldn't find Creole or Cajun seasoning, so I went with chili powder, and I added some bright chunks of red and yellow peppers to the dish for color. I also used Massa brown rice even though the recipe called for white rice.

I got a rather skeptical look from My Beloved when I mentioned I was making Red Beans and Rice for dinner - that didn't sound like something he'd enjoy until I mentioned that fat sausage. Visible relief! He does love his meat. And, once he tried it, he was pleasantly surprised - he'd happily eat this again. Win-win!

Red Beans and Rice, adapted from Bon Appetit, February 1996

2 Tablespoons olive oil
1 pound fully cooked smoked sausage (such as hot links or Kielbasa), sliced into 1/2 inch rounds.
1 onion
1/2 cup small colorful peppers, chopped
4 garlic cloves, chopped
3  14oz cans kidney beans
1/2 cup chicken broth
1 teaspoon Creole or Cajun seasoning, or 1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper (or 2 teaspoons chili powder)

3 cups cooked rice

Heat olive oil in a large, heavy Dutch oven over medium heat. Add sausage, onion and garlic and sauté until onion is browned, about 15 minutes. Add chili powder (or Creole seasoning) and cook until fragrant. Mix in kidney beans with their juices, broth and Creole seasoning. Reduce heat to medium-low, cover and simmer until flavors are blended and mixture is very thick, stirring occasionally, about 45 minutes. If sauce is not thick enough, remove about 1/2 cup of the beans and mash with a fork. Return to pot and stir them in to thicken.

Spoon cooked rice into large soup bowls and top with bean mixture, making sure each portion gets some sausage pieces.  Serves 6. In our case, we had delicious leftovers for two days.

Chili G'mish

Every time I make chili, it's a little different. My basic recipe is to brown some ground beef, chop and saute some onions, make a sauce from tomato sauce and chili powder, add the (canned) beans, and Bob's your uncle!

It has always been satisfying and hearty and even My Beloved, who is not a huge chili fan, scarfed it up with alacrity.

This time, however, I decided to make it from scratch with dried beans from Rancho Gordo that I found at the Ferry Plaza farmer's market. The beans were irresistible, mottled with red and white. Sadly, they didn't keep their color but they were really delicious and so meaty I might actually have been able to leave out the meat. In addition to my usual onions, tomato sauce and chili powder, this "recipe" (actually, just threw in whatever I had on hand) included ground grass-fed beef from Marin Sun Farms, tomato paste, cumin, dried red pepper flakes, a generous cooking spoon full of Hungarian paprika, sliced carrots, a small can of green chiles and the lovely beans, which I soaked for an hour or two, simmered for another hour, then added to the meat sauce to finish cooking.

After the simmering, I let it stand overnight before re-heating and serving topped with grated cheddar cheese. What had started as three-alarm chili the day before mellowed as it soaked into the beans into a mildly spicy and wonderfully tasty stew. The carrots gave it some extra flavor and color interest and, although I don't normally use this yellow form of cheddar, I really liked the color contrast in the bowl this time.

Turns out you can add just about anything to chili if you start with delicious beans.

Doctored Beans

One of the pleasures of writing about whatever we're eating for dinner is that it often brings back memories from long ago to enjoy - or not, depending on the memory.

Because my birthday falls in February, I was not allowed to begin kindergarten even though my mother believed I was ready - or perhaps she was just eager to get that last kid out the door so she could have some peace and quiet! In any case, three of the mothers in our neighborhood felt the same way so they signed up for a Calvert School course and decided to home school their budding geniuses. They took turns preparing and presenting the lessons and some of my earliest memories are of my mother painstakingly printing out letters for me to copy.

By far, my favorite classmate was Sandy Ferguson; I can't even remember the name of the other kid in the class. Sandy was my best friend even before we started school together; we played well and never quarreled, something of a rarity with me and my friends. Very simply, I loved him.

Then, one day we were playing a very interesting game of doctor when Mrs. Ferguson discovered us. As I recall, I had Sandy stretched out on the ironing board and was about to take his temperature rectally when I looked up into Mrs. Ferguson's horrified face.

Although I was sent home immediately with a flea in my ear, Mrs. Ferguson did forgive me once she got over the shock and even gave us her recipe for baked beans, which I still make today. I don't always follow the recipe exactly; I leave out the brown sugar and go light on the maple syrup and, if I don't have apples in the house, I sometimes resort to unsweetened apple butter. The onions and oranges, however, are key ingredients, not to be messed with.

Mrs. Ferguson's Baked Beans

4 #2 jars of B & M Baked Beans (#2 jars ae 1 lb. 3oz. jars)
1 large Bermuda onion, sliced
1 large unpeeled orange, sliced (I used tangerines this time and they worked fine)
1 large unpeeled apple, sliced (or use unsweetened apple butter)
1 cup brown sugar (I omit this altogether)
20 whole cloves
1 cup (real) maple syrup

Grease the baking pot with the salt pork from the can of beans, line with a layer of onion rings, orange and apple slices, 1 jar of beans, 1/4 of the brown sugar, cloves, and syrup. Repeat until bean pot is almost full with alternating layers. Cover and bake 8-10 hours at 200 degrees.

Needless to say, I don't make this amount for just the two of us and I don't bake it for that long. Two or three hours at 300 degrees is fine. I serve this with tube steak and that wonderful Boston brown bread that comes in a can, thinly sliced and spread with cream cheese. I don't know if that's traditional, but it's how it was always done in my family.

I wonder where Sandy Ferguson is today and I wonder if Mrs. Ferguson chuckles over the memory as I do.

Quiet Dynamite

It's not often these days when I post something new here, as most of my favorites have been posted long ago, and recently I just make up dinner from what I have in the fridge. But last week, I took leftovers to an all-time high and I can't resist bragging on them.

Several magic ingredients went into this dish of lemony, garlicky white beans with zucchini and yesterday's lamb. The first was the beans themselves - I learned an important trick when I had cooked in chicken broth 'way too many beans for the two of us and went online looking for more recipes. I didn't find a great recipe but I did discover that one can FREEZE the extras for another day! Oh, heaven!  So, I bundled up three two-cup packages and stuck them in the freezer, just the right amount for us two.

One of the packages came out to make this dish. I also had about 1/2 of a cup of chicken goozle (juices I saved from a previous roast chicken and defatted after refrigerating them), four small zucchinis, four fat cloves of garlic, a sprinkle of dried thyme, and a thinly sliced lemon.

I started by cooking the minced garlic briefly in a little olive oil, then adding the thyme until it smelled like heaven, then mixed in the rest of the ingredients, including the skin-on lemon slices and simmered over medium-low heat until the zucchini chunks were losing their integrity and the beans were starting to add some of their starch to the "gravy," about 20-30 minutes.

Then, there is nothing to do but divide it in two in deep bowls and top it with slices of left over lamb loin still pink and lovely from a day or two before. The beans gently warm the lamb but don't over cook it, and the strong lemon flavor really jazzes up the beans. The thyme and garlic add layers of richness. 

Quiet dynamite.

Now I Know Why They Use Black Beans For Soup

Because brown beans aren't pretty.

I used the leftover pinto beans from my lamb shanks to make a bean soup, simply whirling them with a tad of extra water in a blender. The beans had absorbed lovely flavor layers from the onions, shallots, carrots, bay leaves, broth, and lamb, so the soup was mighty good, thick and smooth and hearty.

But homely, just mid-brown and boring, like milk chocolate pudding. Even the dab of tzatziki I added didn't do much to make it look pretty, although it did add a nice, fresh flavor and a little texture to the slow-cooked savor of the beans.

Next time, perhaps I'll try the black beans with the lamb shanks, just for fun. Then I'd get pretty soup.

Has-Beans

As I mentioned in an earlier post, a single pound of beans can just about wipe out world hunger - and when there are only two in the household, they last a long, long time.

We loved the hearty beans but I have to admit that I may have cooked a teensy bit too much. By the time we were nearing the bottom of the pot, we were more or less beaned out for the foreseeable future.

Another oops I made was to purchase a local smoked Cornish game hen, supposedly ready to eat. It was so hideously salty and almost slimy in texture as to be inedible and, believe me, not many foods fall into that category around here; we are the kind of people who stretch the Five Second Rule, despite the state of our kitchen floor.

I bundled the hen into a baggie and fridged it although, frankly, it was so salty I doubt if it could have spoiled, hoping to be inspired with some way to use it in subsequent meals.

The inspiration came a day later when I thought of dilution as the solution to all that sodium pollution. I decided to try making soup stock from it and leaving out all salt from the broth. I covered the hen with water, threw in an onion and some celery and simmered it until the meat was firm (and no longer glutenicky {new word}), boned it and returned the bones to the broth for a longer simmer with the veggies. When strained, the stock was richly yellow, full of flavor and only lightly salty. Returning the meat to the broth along with some diced carrot, onion and green beans, I remembered the last two cups of beans that had been simmered with the ham shank, so I threw them in as well to simmer with the veggies and smoky chopped hen.

The resulting soup is rich with flavor layers, one of the loveliest soups I have made, enough for lunch today and some nice leftovers for the freezer. We made piggy slurping noises, enjoying the last of those has-beans.

Summer Favorite

What I'm about to admit puts me beyond the pale of true foodie territory: I like beans and franks.

Yes, beans from a can and frankfurters mummified in plastic. I actually look forward to summer cookouts where, almost inevitably, someone will bring a big pot of beans to go with the grilled hotdogs.

My Beloved, however, is not a huge fan of the tube steak - the man can actually attend a baseball game without consuming one. Imagine!

Since I'm the cook in our house, and so have the power, we do occasionally have this summer favorite of mine. Oh, I dress it up for him by adding onions, spices and tangerine or orange slices (skin and all) to the pot of beans as they simmer. I sometimes even grill chicken apple sausages rather than true franks. But, let's not fool ourselves that we are eating anything but comfort food here.

And comfortable it is. Sweetly savory-salty, it's a flash back to childhood when, very occasionally, my mother would serve us this when she was dressed up to go out with my Dad for the evening and wanted to leave us in a good mood for the babysitter. When I take the first bite of the beans, I almost get a whiff of her perfume as she breezed out the door on my father's arm, knowing she left us as happy as she was.

I Get By with a Little Help from My Friends

Sometimes, things just happen at exactly the right time. Serendipity. First, my butcher explained that ham shank would be better than ham hock with my beans - she said her Irish family always used the shank and who am I to argue with a fellow Irishwoman? Especially when she is wielding a large knife.

Then, while I was simmering a big pot of Rancho Gordo cranberry beans with said ham shank, water, tomato sauce and some chopped, softened onions, I happened to read Peter's post about the penitential meal he was making for his little family, having pigged out on Za-zagna (I love Milo's name for it!) the day before.

As always, Peter was tossing in a dash of this and a dollop of that (he likes layered flavors) to his beans so I decided to follow suit with mine. Having no idea what shichimi is and being too lazy to look it up, I only added balsamic vinegar and a little maple syrup to mine. I left out his soy sauce suggestion as my ham shank was already adding plenty of salt.

More simmering and tasting as they got softer and softer, and finally they were ready. The ham had fallen completely off the bones in chunks and the marrow had dissolved into the sauce. The color was a rich browny-red and the flavors wafting up were literally mouth-watering. While perhaps not as complex as Peter's beans, they were deeply satisfying and homey with a little kick in the pants from the vinegar to keep them from being boring.

I'll be back to thank the butcher this week and herewith go my thanks to Peter - I got high on these beans - with a little help from my friends.