Showing posts with label veganable. Show all posts
Showing posts with label veganable. Show all posts

Saturday, November 6, 2010

frijoles negros, or everyday black beans

I think if you're going to eat something everyday - or quite often, it should be made from the kind of recipe that serves you well every time. I have a bunch of these recipes scrawled out on the back of envelopes and receipts poking out of books and stuck to the fridge; there's my version of Molly's banana bread, the flour/yeast/water ratios for Jim Lahey's no-knead bread and a splotched crinkly print-out of the recipe for classic zucchini slice. One of the other things I make every couple of weeks is a big pot of frijoles negros, or basic black beans soaked and simmered with a dried chipotle chile until inky and creamy and totally delicious. At a Mexican-themed BBQ I had last weekend where I served them alongside charcoal-grilled achiote chicken, pico de gallo, mango salsa, salmon, apple and ginger ceviche, corn tortillas and mint caramel flan, the recipe for black beans was the one people asked for.


But this is a recipe that doesn't exist on any of those bits of paper, actually. It's just a preparation I made up, liked and stuck to - a "recipe" that before now, I've never thought much about. I fell in love with the creamy, rich texture of black beans in Mexico and they've been on high rotation in my repertoire since I got my hands on a source for the dried beans back here in Melbourne. I just soak a couple of cupfuls of beans, then rinse and throw them into my cast iron pot, covered with plenty of cold water. I throw in a peeled garlic clove or two, a peeled whole onion and a dried chipotle chile, bring to the boil and then let the whole lot simmer away until it becomes a thick and dark magic brew that smells wholesome and smoky.

The beans can then be used for a million different things. You can serve them on nachos, or alongside sausages. You can use them, with salsa and queso fresco, to fill vegetarian tacos or empanadas. You can moosh them up, add some stock and serve with crema for a satisfying black bean soup. You could puree them into refried beans and serve as a dip with tostadas, alongside eggs for a traditional Mexican breakfast, or use a thick layer as an additional filling for Sunday morning hangover quesadillas. Or even better - and Aussies might have to trust me on this - you can serve them hot, spooned over the top of a plate of freshly cooked rice, garnished with coriander, chipotle crema, chunks of avocado, hot sauce and lime. It's my most favourite cheap, warming, filling comfort meal, but not something you hear much about down here in OZ.


While there's not exactly a recipe here for these babies, there are some things you should you know about cooking black beans that might help if you've never prepared them before:

1. Dried beans are better than canned. TRUE. I don't care what Jamie Oliver says - I can't afford imported canned black beans (at $5 a pop) and they're nowhere near as good as those you soak and simmer yourself. It may take some forethought, but it certainly doesn't take much time to soak beans while you sleep and to throw them in a pot to simmer for a few hours on a Saturday morning. Save dollars, food miles and packaging - and get compliments from everyone.

2.Good-quality, freshest dried beans are MUY IMPORTANTE, amigo. Black beans are a little hard to come by in Melbourne anyway, but those sold at Casa Iberica in Fitzroy are really worth the trip. Woolworths now sells black turtle beans under their 'Macro' label in the health food aisle; these are ok, but you just won't achieve the creaminess and flavour you're really after.

3. Don't throw salt into that water! At least not for the first hour or so. Word on the street is that this makes them tough as little stones (though I've heard contradictory theories too). I've always seasoned later and never had a problem with tough beans, so I'm sticking to this rule. Salt some after an hour or so of cooking and adjust as necessary when they're done.

4. Flavour as you like. I throw in a dried chipotle chile (also available at Casa Iberica or online here) to infuse the whole pot with a smoky, subtle heat that doesn't interfere too much with the different dishes I add my beans to. But throw in whatever you like; fresh bay leaves, ground coriander or a chunk of smoky bacon.

5. Skim that scum. Shortly after your beans come to the boil, a frothy scum often rises to the surface. You want to skim this off with a big spoon so that the texture and flavour of your beans and their liquid really sing. Once you turn down to simmer, check for more scum every so often and remove as necessary.

6. Add more water as needed and don't let the beans dry out. By the time the beans are tender and creamy, the water will have transformed into a thick black-purple sauce - you want to make sure there's enough of this. If you intend to puree or mash the beans, you may want a even little more liquid.

7. Taste! Cooking time depends on how long you soak and how fresh your beans are. These ones took just under two hours after an overnight soak, but there's only one way to find out if yours are done...

Friday, July 23, 2010

rocket and pistachio pesto

Just becase you love food, doesn't mean you always find time to cook. I'm sitting here thinking about how one of my typical days in recent weeks might be represented in a pie chart, but I'll spare you that. That would just be another way to procrastinate - and it has already made me want to bake pie. At the moment, most of my day is spent reading and writing, a little bit is spent sewing and a very, very small amount is spent cooking and eating. Being in the middle (or closer towards the end, but it still feels like the freaking middle) of a PhD sometimes makes me forget about food; this is when I can't be bothered cooking for myself and I find myself considering the possibility of eating while I sleep via intravenous. But other times, I want to cook a whole Blumenthal buffet with multiple courses and towering translucent wobbly jellies from children's storybooks and Silky's pop biscuits. But there's no time for all that. There is time for pesto, however.


It's the middle of Winter here in OZ and buying a big bunch of basil would be wrong on two counts (flavor, price). And with pistachios sitting in the cupboard after that glorious muesli the other week, the way forward was clear - Tessa Kiros' rocket and pistachio pesto. All you need is a handful of pistachios, some garlic and parmesan, a handful of rocket (arugula) and a nice fruity olive oil. You whiz it up the first bits in your blender or food processor - or if you're smarter than me and have finished your thesis you can do it in a pestle and mortar - and add the oil to make a very bright green and sharp/sweet pesto.

I've made this pesto lots of times now and it is so good - I sometimes even make it in the summer when basil is plentiful, just to mix things up a bit. It is great through pasta, of course. But it's also (especially!) awesome drizzled over golden roasted hasselback potatoes half way through cooking; the potatoes come out with this insane gold-green crust of nutty, cheesy flavour, making them a perfect side with something like roast chicken or a substantial and impressive contribution to a vegetarian spread (Tessa even recommends leaving out the cheese for coating potatoes, making this vegan-friendly). I've mixed this pesto into salad dressings, drizzled it on pizza and dolloped in into soups before serving. I've eaten it with fresh ricotta on toast.

If you're short on time, make this. It's very good stuff.

rocket and pistachio pesto
From Tessa Kiros' Falling Cloudberries

2 garlic cloves
60g (or 1/3 cup) shelled pistachios
60g rocket (or arugula)
40g parmesan cheese, grated
250ml (1 cup) olive oil

1. Crush the garlic to a lumpy paste with a little salt.

2. Pulse the pistachios in your blender to coarse bits. Add the rocket (I chop mine up a bit first) and continue to pulse until you have a relatively consistent, but coarse paste. Scrape this out into a bowl and stir in the garlic, parmesan and olive oil. Mix through well and taste for seasoning. Depending on the pepperiness of your rocket and saltiness of your cheese, you may want to add some salt (mine often needs a little to make it sing). You're done! If you don't use this right away, it keeps in the fridge for about a week, as long as the top is covered with a layer of oil.
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