Emma and Nuala try to figure out if they’re perimenopausal, wonder if it’s anxiety or the end of the American empire, and designate Tori Amos as their menopause cult leader.
I’m having a hard time feeling OK about paying for stuff lately. Sandwiches are $20 now. Rent? Ugh. Taxes?? UGH, god!!! And few things add more to one’s general late-capitalist malaise than having to sit down at the end of a workday with a bowl full of nondescript slop. How are you supposed to feel good about resisting the temptation to just pick up a burrito from the place down the street when the alternative is some half-assed mélange of differently colored goops from your pantry? Wow, you saved money! For what, for a freakin’ one-bedroom shack you might be able to afford in 30 years?
This is why making cheap, good, and satisfying meals at home is so important to keeping yourself and your loved ones sane when times are tough. Cooking well isn’t going to save the world by itself, but you can’t dismantle capitalism on an empty stomach. A classic can of beans, while nutritious, doesn’t have to be boring. There are so many ways to make beans sparkle on the cheap. It just takes a little bit of creativity and maybe a little more time than usual — but not too much, I promise.
Give yourself this gift. You deserve it!
Diversify your bean collection
Each type of bean available at the store or food pantry has unique tastes and textures worth exploring. The mottled cranberry bean is nutty and smooth and produces a rich broth when cooked from dry; black beans are velvety, great with cumin, and ideal for purees; chickpeas are phenomenal when baked with some olive oil; cannellini beans don’t get mushy very easily and work well in salads; and so on.
You can also check out specialty grocery stores for different, more culturally specific varieties to experiment with: whole mung beans for South Asian recipes, Japanese azuki beans for desserts, or canned favas to quickly whip into stewed Egyptian ful mudammas.
Layer your aromatics
My template bean recipe is all about adding flavor at various steps of the cooking process. I start by sizzling chopped onion and minced garlic with oil in a heavy-bottomed pot. Maybe I’ll throw in some chopped fennel too, if I have it! Once the vegetables start to smell nice and brown at the edges, I might add spices like whole cumin, paprika, chile flakes, or berebere to the pot for a minute or so. The heat blooms the spices, releasing their flavorful oils into the mixture. You could also do as food writer Alicia Kennedy advises and add some tomato paste or chipotles in adobo.
Then I add drained and rinsed beans (or pre-cooked, if they’re from dry), along with some water or stock to bring the mixture to the soupiness level that I'm craving. I usually use water mixed with a bit of bouillon.
I’ll let the beans warm up, then taste for saltiness. (Ideally, you keep adjusting the salt as things go.) If the mood strikes, I’ll add a can of chopped tomatoes and let that warm up. Then I might add some leafy greens or frozen green vegetables, like chopped spinach, and let that stuff wilt or warm up in the pot.
When it’s time to serve the beans, sometimes I’ll fry up an egg or two to toss on top, add a dollop of yogurt, or both for extra protein. Then finally, each bowl gets an extra punch of flavor from a drizzle of chili oil or salsa macha, fish sauce, or lime or lemon juice.
Add texture
If you have breadcrumbs in your pantry, toast them up with olive oil in a pan with whatever spices you like, then sprinkle them on top of each bowl of beans. Or, if you have stale bread, chop or rip it up into 1-inch chunks and fry it in a pan with salt and oil until it’s crisp. Boom, croutons!
I also try to mix up the “serve with” carb situation when I can: Try bread, rice, quinoa, frozen parathas, or homemade tortillas. Hell, throw some tater tots on top. No one can stop you.
Here’s a bonus dry bean tip: Soak beans overnight when you think of it, then drain them and freeze them in bags. That way, you can skip the soaking part when you’re ready to cook.
Soleil Ho is a cultural critic, cookbook writer, and food journalist who has a nasty habit of founding media projects instead of going to therapy: from the feminist literary magazine Quaint to food podcast Racist Sandwich to our dear COYOTE.
