THE HUNT: THE BIG SOAK
Beans get a bad rap, but their whiffy reputation is easily dispelled by the knowledge that they are nutritional powerhouses that are easy to prepare.
Beans get a bad rap, but their whiffy reputation is easily dispelled by the knowledge that they are nutritional powerhouses that are easy to prepare.
remember 2016, the Year of the Pulse? Canadians were challenged to make legumes a feature of one meal per week for 10 weeks. How did that work out for you? Yeah, I thought so.
Like it or not, many Canadians consider eating foods made from dried peas and lentils as something akin to penance. However, you might expect us to show more love to the plain old bean, since we seem to like them when served to us in burrito form, or as the refried side dish on a Mexican platter. But that’s the key: “served to us.” Other than the odd can in the pantry, it’s just not a regular part of the rotation. In fact, we consume less than a kilo per person per year.
That’s unfortunate, since beans are magnificently cheap, with an unmatched nutritional bang-for-buck. In dried form their shelf life is in the decades. Plus, southern Alberta produces them in large quantities. Down at Bow Island (neither on the Bow nor an island) their civic mascot is a giant pinto bean dressed like a cowboy. But alas, virtually all of that product appears to be exported to places like Turkey, North Africa, Mexico and Colombia. To my knowledge there is not a single brand of dried bean that proudly trumpets its domestic provenance.
Pity, since the locavore in me would like nothing better than to score a sack of Alberta beans. Instead, I buy mine at groceries like La Tiendona, because I favour the Hispanic style of bean cookery. They tend to deal in Fiesta brand, all the way from Moses Lake, Washington. Oh, well; at around three bucks a kilo, a bulk purchase enables me to keep, in the basement, a drum each of pinto, red and black beans. I’m no prepper, but I sure like the idea of having plenty in storage. It’s also a constant reminder that beans are superb food worth eating regularly—which is exactly what eliminates the flatulence issue that scares many away.
The other hurdle—and it’s a tiny one—is getting used to the terms of soaking and cooking. The solution to that is simply going big. Fill a large pot one-third with beans. Rinse well and drain, then add unsalted water to the twothirds line and let it sit overnight. The next day it will take around 90 minutes of simmering to get to an al dente state—something you can never get from the tin. Bear in mind that soaking isn’t absolutely necessary, but count on an extra hour of cooking if you don’t. When cool, simply ladle the surplus beans and cooking liquid into zip bags, ready for the freezer. Like a can, only better.
Refried beans are now a short step away, typically made with pintos but black beans are equally suitable. (It’s remarkable how people appear to enjoy a black bean side dish without ever entertaining the notion of making one.) Simply fry in lard, liquid and all, with onions, salt, a finely minced jalapeno and, if you like, some cumin. Hit them with a potato masher as much or as little as you prefer. Perfect for a breakfast of huevos rancheros, it’s also a great addition to nachos.
Pre-cooked beans will always underpin hearty vegetarian soups, of course, but their natural affinity for pork yields classics like bean with bacon. Red beans and rice—with or without andouille sausage—is a New Orleans tradition you can pair with blackened fish. Or simply sprinkle them on a chef’s salad. Don’t neglect spicy bean dips, which are straight-up awesome.
For me, though, my ongoing inspiration is Costa Rica’s national dish, the casado, which means marriage. While that meal usually has five components, including stewed meat, slaw and fried plantain, the heart of the marriage is between the rice and the bean. But we know who the head of the family is.