Q & A with Paprikahead: Large Beans

PAPRIKAHEAD HELP MEEEEE

I have these big white beans - what are they? Why have they split into two big halves that are toooo scary? What should I do to these tooo scary beans that have split into two? I want to eat them today! I bet they will cook fast because these tooooo big beans have been sitting on the stove for two days! HELP!!!

Yours Truly,

Big Fluffy Hamster in San Francisco

Dear Big Fluffy Hamster,

While I can't with any certainty identify your large beans, I can tell you something about the general properties of large beans. Beans often split as they soak; no problem there. The bad news is that even after a two-day soak they may still take a long time to cook, simply because they are so very large. Be patient, and you will be rewarded with a large creamy mouthful of beans.

Possibilities: you could have white runner beans (the white variety of scarlet runner beans). You could have gigantes, large white Greek beans. You could have some sort of big lima bean. Send me a picture?

All the best,

Paprikahead

Frugality in the Kitchen (No Corners Cut)

These are Mama's scarlet runner beans. They bounce out of their leathery pods when you shell them, hot pink and flaming purple. They're a fun genetic study, too, as they mingle in the garden (purple is dominant -- all the beans on the left grew from seeds of their own color, but the beans on the right were grown from brown and tan seeds, and picked up the purple from their neighbors. I think white might be a different species).

To follow up on my frugality post, I'm putting together ten of my own favorite tactics for spending less on wholesome, satisfying food. I grew up in a household that ate a lot of scarlet runner beans and venison, and we lived very comfortably on a tiny food budget. That said, money is not the only resource worth saving. Your health is much more important. Also, I currently share a communal kitchen with four fellows who spend their days biking to and fro, so I'm not talking about saving money by eating less.

Things to eat:

(1) Dry beans. Canned beans are a convenient waste of money. Plus, soaking and partially sprouting beans increases the availability of their nutrients as the seeds tap their nutrient stores in preparation for germination. Partially sprouted beans take much less time to cook, saving time and energy. I keep a big bowl or two of beans soaking at all times in the pantry. To soak beans, cover them with three times their volume in water. Change the water twice a day for two days. Then drain the beans and either cook them at this point or rinse them twice daily until they've formed 1/4" sprouts.

(2) Eggs. Eggs are one of the least expensive, most thorough sources of high-quality protein you can buy. Even the best pastured eggs cost less than most meat, pound for pound (and they've got essential fatty acids and vitamin D, which you won't find in regular, cage-free, or free-range eggs). In short: the tryptophan! the selenium! the B vitamins! the choline, oh heavens, the choline!

(3) Homemade yogurt. Yogurt is so easy to make. You can buy the highest-quality raw milk for much less than the equivalent volume of mediocre yogurt, and make it into yogurt yourself.

(4) Fresh produce. Fresh produce tastes better, looks better, and has more nutritional value than produce that spends a long time getting shipped all over and stored in warehouses before you eat it. At farmer's markets, you don't have to give money to a middleman. Growing your own veggies is the best option if you have the space, of course.

(5) Lard. Even lard from the healthiest, happiest pigs is quite inexpensive, very satisfying, and rich in vitamins. Put tons of it in all those beans you cook to make them filling and easy to digest. You can get pork fat very cheaply from a butcher and render it yourself if you like.

(6) Organ meats. Not only are organ meats just teeming with nutrients, but they're less expensive than fancy cuts of steak. Personally, I'd take a braised heart or tongue any day over a steak, but even if you don't share my enthusiasm, try making some chopped liver for supper. It always wins over the liver-phobes.

(7) Porridge. Boxed cereal and ready-made granola are some of the most expensive foods you can buy -- especially given that they're half made of sugar and leave you hungry by ten o'clock. Make your own convenient oatmeal by soaking rolled oats overnight.

Things to avoid:

(8) Storebought alcohol. Ever since college, I have had many friends who complain that they have no money for good food, but spend five or ten dollars a day on alcohol. That's a couple hundred a month. Yes, yes, I understand. If you want it every day, brew your own or go get high on endorphins instead.

(9) Prepared food. Packaged food costs a ridiculous amount of money, and usually contains ingredients you'd never add for yourself -- strange preservatives and whatnot. This includes not just the obvious candy bars, but all sorts of organic faux-wholesome foods. Take packaged instant oatmeal. It's heavily sugared, wrapped in wasteful packaging, and costs ten times as much as plain rolled oats. And tastes like mealy spit-up.

(10) Reduced-fat anything. You'd pay to have someone strip your food of flavor and nutritional value?

Q & A with Paprikahead: Pot o' Beans and an Accidental Reduction

This, from a Hamster Reader:

Subject: recipe for big pot o beans?

you got one for me lady? i got bags of dried beans and want these suckers good good good. mmmm good.

-A Hamster Reader

p.s. and then i looked to the stove. it's on!, i thunk, and not like friday night hipsters going to the demolition derby. no, no. like the stove, it's on, like still turned on from the night before! and this is what i found.

turned to the lowest heat available the [pumpkin] soup had reduced all through the night (lid on with tiny hole for air passage) to this kind of thick, creamy looking goodnees. the top of it had this thick, thick skin that reminded me of, well, burned, charred pizza sauce. it was unlike anything i have ever seen, really, but i knew it was awesome from the first. and it was. the taste of this here sucker is sweet as candy, the texture thicker than chile, like a kind of paste for toast or something. i feel like the guy that *happened* upon blighted rye and tripped balls and gave the world the wee secret of acid, two hundred years before it was synthesized. or something like that. anyway, i thought you would like this story and that maybe it would make a smile.

Dear Hamster,

For the beans: first, soak them overnight in three times their volume of water. Drain them in the morning, fill the pot with fresh water, and bring them to a simmer. Simmer simmer simmer. Throw in some onions, ham bone or bacon, carrots, tomatoes, celery. Make them a little sweet -- molasses is good (with care!). Some apple cider vinegar for tanginess. And a lot of salt, but only after the beans are soft, because the salt will make their skins tough if you add it too soon. They should simmer all day, in proportion to their size.

I'm so happy your pumpkin soup reduction was magnificent and not disastrous! It sounds like a good task for a crock-pot, akin to making tomato paste or apple butter. I think I'll try to replicate it with the pumpkin on my counter.

Black-Eyed Pea Soup with Smoked Pig

A friend asked why I was making soup on a summer's day. This city is freezing me slowly with sweet salt breezes, is why. In any case, porky bean soup makes a nice meal for the winter, or late fall when the collard greens aren't snowed over yet, or a foggy day in July. The fellow behind the deli case didn't know what a ham hock was. I wiped a little honeysuckle tear from my firefly eyes and found a smoked shank for myself.

Also on the menu (for a successful Week Three of house meals at the TenderNob Flat): Padrón peppers, cornbread, and collard greens. I like my cornbread with cooked grits, and I liked my grits gritty -- not those little globules of cornstarch you find in the diner, but the whole-corn variety, more like polenta. I simmer the grits while the beans simmer.

Black-Eyed Pea Soup

Soak 2 cups black-eyed peas in a large bowlful of water overnight. Early in the afternoon, drain the peas and put them in a large pot with more than twice their volume of water. Bring to a simmer. While they simmer, chop and add an onion or two, a carrot, a stalk of celery and some leaves, a pint of canned tomatoes*, and a quarter-cup of honey.

When the beans have softened a bit, add a smoked bony chunk of pork, whatever part of the pig it might be, and a small palmful of salt. I often divide my chunk into two pieces and freeze the other half for later use. It really doesn't take much for a savory hamminess to creep into the beans.

Then keep simmering. By 7:00 the beans ought to be nice and velvety-soft, the meat fallen from the bone, and the tomatoes a reddish mush. Add water as necessary. Pull out the meat, chop, and throw back in the soup. Serve it up, nice and hot.

*I believe in canned tomatoes. Even boughten ones, if you don't have your own. They're usually picked and packed in season wherever they're from -- making them higher quality than expensive out-of-season tomatoes. They're condensed and sturdy, so they require less space when shipped, and needn't be refrigerated during the process, reducing oil use and emissions all around. But better yet, can your own when they're in season.

How to Know When You're Pregnant with Bean Soup

Perhaps you'll know from the moment you awake and don't want to disturb the cat on your feet. Perhaps the rain on your bike helmet will be a little too loud. By midmorning you'll find yourself soaking a couple of pounds of navy beans in four times their volume of water. After work, you'll drain, rinse, and put them to simmer in a great big pot (with fresh water -- the digestive advantage in soaking your beans will be lost if you don't change the water!). You'll add the tomatoes -- lots! -- and starting browning several onions in another skillet in plenty of butter or olive oil. If you're not cooking for your vegan friends, throw in all those ham bones you've been collecting in the freezer. Be careful not to add anything salty (like salty canned tomatoes) till the beans are cooked; salt toughens bean skins so they take longer to get soft and then split when they do.

When the beans are well on their way to done, add the well-caramelized onions and chopped carrots, celery, and garlic, and anything about to die in the crisper. Then go reconnoiter the spice cabinet.

I'm sure it's not a new analogy, but mixing spices is a lot like mixing paints. Sometimes you get purple and sometimes you get off-gray. Too many flavors "confuse" the palate. There are some wonderfully complicated, even baroque exceptions; namely, Indian cooking, and rainy day soups. It helps, of course, to have some sort of theme in mind. I like smoky red things like paprika and chipotle in my bean soup, maybe a little tangy sumac and green stuff like sage, oregano, and thyme. Grind black pepper on everything. Remember: when all those poor mercenaries died in the Crusades, they weren't dying for the grail or gods. It's always been all about pepper.

When the beans are really soft, it's time to go into labor. First check the texture of the soup. If it's too thin, pour some of the broth into another sauce pan to increase the total surface area, and boil both pots to the desired consistency. Next, add several tablespoons each of salt, molasses (or brown sugar), and cider vinegar. Thirdly, assess the "mouthfeel" of the broth. If there are bones in it, they'll add that nice silky gelatin finish, but if it's vegan, you'll need to add something saturated, like coconut oil. Fats mellow and blend flavors, so if the acid gets out of hand, counter it with fat -- just the way salts and sweets counter each other. Taste and edit wildly-- this is the fun part! Remember to cleanse your palate with wine between each tasting. Consult with your housemate -- she'll be your midwife. Taste again. If it just needs something ineffable, keep adding the sweets, salts, sours and fats till a spoonful of the broth is like ten cats on your bed, fifty good books, and a hundred thousand steaming cups of tea.

Vegans: Bones add savor from sodium & other minerals, and a nice rich texture from their gelatin content. The clever vegan will remember to add extra extra salt and swirl in a goodly-sized chunk of coconut oil at the end to make up for the absence of bones.

Serve your baby with cornbread for the complementary protein synergy. (Complementary proteins: grains & dairy, beans & rice, corn & beans, pie & ice cream, wine & cheese, coffee & cigarettes).