Bean and Legume

There are so many things to love about chickpea fries—for starters you can make the base for this dish ahead of time and then fry up the fries just before you want to serve them. Also, I’ve added some crunched-up chickpeas into the mix for texture. And who ever thought of pairing these lovelies with a raw zucchini and onion salad? Look at me—always thinking up something new! Add a couple of grilled shrimp and some pine nuts, and you have something really special.

This is not your ordinary bean dip. A lovely combo of beans, veggies, rosemary, and prosciutto makes this a simple but sophisticated twist on an old standby—and, while I recommend cooking your own beans, popping open a can instead is totally acceptable in a pinch.

My friend Gori grew up in India. She led quite a jet-setting life as a stewardess for Air India when she was just out of school. Her parents wanted her to settle down and marry, so they placed ads in the matrimonial classifieds. For three years she went out on chaperoned blind dates. Then she met Suresh. It was love at first sight and their families heartily approved. Suresh had grown up in Greenwood, Mississippi, and he brought his new bride home to the Delta. Gori taught me how to make this dish. When we get together to cook I make her tell me their love story just about every time.

I like the browned bits that cling to the skillet, like the socarrat of a paella, when I cook this side dish for my family. I like it so much, in fact, that I serve everyone the fluffy top part and when I’m back in the kitchen I scrape that part off and serve it to myself.

The sweetness of peaches and sugar snap peas makes them pair up quite well. A bit of seasoning sends the duo down a chutney path.

The Black and White Store down on the far west end of Main Street in Yazoo City opened the doors to its two-tone storefront in 1938. It stocks general merchandise and department-store goods; everyone in town shops there for fabrics and patterns, back-to-school clothes, new shoes, and footlockers for summer camp. Whenever I hear the words “black and white” I think of their big neon sign. Mr. Chisholm, the longtime manager, says at first the store was White’s Store, with an aptly painted front; and when it expanded into the building next door that had been burned and the bricks charred black, it became the Black and White Store. I was writing out a grocery list at home the other day and when I looked at the list at the store I had absentmindedly written “Black and White Store Beans” underneath “carrots.” This salad ensued.

In 2009 the USDA declared seventy-nine of Mississippi’s eighty-two counties disaster areas due to excessive rain in spring and fall and a drought in the summer. It rained more than fifteen inches in May when farmers were trying to plant their crops. Then in the busy harvest months, a deluge of eight inches in September, followed by fourteen and a half inches in October. It was one of the worst yields on record. My cousin Michael Thompson has the right temperament to be a farmer. He is unflappable in the face of natural disaster and focuses on doing everything he can to foster a good soybean yield each season. “To do what I love on land that means so much to our family, it’s home . . .” As he says this his voice trails off dreamily.

The peas, left whole, pop in your mouth with sweetness in each bite. The whipped salted cream browns underneath the broiler and blankets each spoonful with a froth.

One of my chores when I was a kid was to “top and tail” and remove the strings from the green beans we’d harvested from the garden. The baskets of fresh-picked green beans sometimes seemed endlessly high and I often questioned why I had to go to all that trouble to remove something as harmless as tops and tails. Today I appreciate the simplicity of the task. I love fresh green beans so much that I miss them terribly when they’re out of season. You can cook the beans as long as you like; the longer they cook, the sweeter they get.

In terms of its role in my life, this may well be the most important recipe in this chapter. It is without exaggeration that I say that there were always borracho or refried beans in our house. Barely a day goes by that I don’t have beans; my favorite breakfast is refried beans and egg whites. They can replace or be added along with any meat in tacos (page 102), chalupas (page 87), or enchiladas (page 94). These should be stiff, not runny. Authentic refried beans are made with bacon grease, but vegetable oil is an excellent alternative.

I always struggled to make perfect black beans, and then my friend from ArtBites (page 63) gave me this recipe, and now my black beans are just as good as my Borracho Beans (page 128)! Black beans are delicious refried (page 130). Black beans, unlike pinto beans, cook more evenly and fall apart less if you skip the soaking.

I love to pull out my slow cooker and let these beans simmer all day, filling the whole house with their amazing aroma. The key to a good bean dish is carefully picking over the dried beans before you cook them, discarding any that are discolored or shriveled. Use any chunky tomato salsa you like; it adds color and heat, so choose accordingly. I usually save the fat that comes from frying the bacon for these beans and use it to make unbelievably good Refried Beans (page 130). Sofrito is a combination of aromatic ingredients that are cooked slowly to release their flavor. It is used as the base of many dishes in Latin American and Caribbean cooking. I usually buy prepared sofrito seasoning paste sold in individual packets and located in the spice or Latin food aisle at the grocery store.

These days I’m more likely to eat Chili con Carne with flavorful Corn Bread (page 181), but when I was a kid, “Frito pie” was one of our favorite after-school snacks: Place a generous handful of Fritos or other corn chips in the bottom of a bowl, ladle over some hot Chili con Carne, and top with cheddar cheese. Every delicious bite is cheesy, crunchy, and meaty! Mexican chorizo is a fresh (not dried) pork sausage seasoned with chiles; it makes all the difference between this Chili con Carne and more basic versions. This chili is better if it’s made a day ahead.

I first had this dish at a restaurant in Florence, Italy. I took a bite and immediately asked the waiter to tell me exactly what was in it. When he told me, I had the same reaction I’ve had so many times after tasting something delicious in Europe: “That’s it?!” I don’t know if it comes from wisdom or restraint or both, but Europeans can take the simplest ingredients and extract from them the most exquisite flavors. My introduction to this dish coincided with my one-year stint as a vegetarian, when I practically lived on beans, relying on them for protein and to fill me up. If you have lemon- or herb-infused olive oil on hand—such as that used in the Butterhead Lettuce Salad with Strawberries (page 59)—use it here to add depth to the flavor of this dip. Depending on the potency of your flavored oil, it may be overpowering if used alone, so start with 1 teaspoon and taste it. If you feel the extra flavor it adds is enough, add the remaining 2 teaspoons extra-virgin olive oil.

This hearty vegetarian stew has special memories for me. I used to make it almost every day when I was broke, back when I was trying to open my first restaurant. And yet I never get tired of it. This dish has layers of flavors, comes together pretty rapidly, and leaves you fully satisfied.

This Mediterranean-inspired dish not only is light and healthy, but also has depth of flavor with a contrast of textures and temperatures. Most home cooks tell me they’re intimidated by cooking fish with skin on; they find it tears or doesn’t crisp up as it should. There are two keys to success: one is patience and the other is a well-seasoned cast-iron pan, preferably one that has gone through generations of use. The second alternative is to cheat and use a nonstick frying pan.

This light summery riff on an Italian classic, pasta e fagioli, is as basic as it is tasty. I love the temperature contrast of hot pasta and beans with cool tomato salad, though you can also serve this peasant dish cold as a pasta salad.

I’ll never understand why people don’t like beets—they’re wonderfully sweet and have a dense, meaty texture. When buying beets, I focus on what the leafy tops look like. The leaves should be fresh looking and dark green, not wilted. I shy away from baby beets, which I find to be unnecessarily pricey, as much as I stay away from huge rock-size ones. Heirloom tomatoes in a rainbow of colors add to this sunny summer salad—you won’t even miss the lettuce! Like all the vinaigrettes and dressings in this book, the recipe will make a fair amount. Leftover walnut vinaigrette will keep, covered, in the refrigerator for up to five days. It’s pretty thick and is ideal to spoon over grilled or steamed asparagus.

Falafel, usually tucked into pita bread with lettuce, tomato, and tahini sauce, is one of the best-known Middle Eastern street foods. At home, falafels make a rustic hot hors d’oeuvre, with a bowl of creamy tahini sauce for dipping. These fry up just right: crunchy on the outside and fluffy in the middle. The baking powder gives the falafels a little lift so they don’t sit in your stomach like belly bombs! All the fresh herbs make for a vibrant flavor and super green color. The chickpeas need to soak for a bit, so plan accordingly. The falafels are amazing with Quick Pickled Vegetables (page 235).

Quick-cooking red lentils have a sweet, mild flavor that pairs well with rich paprika.