Showing posts with label beans. Show all posts
Showing posts with label beans. Show all posts

Monday, September 06, 2010

In Praise of Baked Beans.

A couple of random bits of trivia surfaced during my brief foray into the history of baked beans last week, and they are far too much fun not to share with you. The first is from a homesick ‘Yankee’ whose ode to his favourite dish was published in about 1829 in a number of farming journals, most of which quote the Baltimore Weekly Messenger as the source.

Baked Beans.

Oh! How my heart sighs for my own native land,
Where potatoes, and squashes, and cucumbers grow,
Where cheer and good welcome are always at hand,
And custards and pumpkin pies smoke in a row:
Where pudding the visage of hunger serenes
And, what is far better, the pot of baked Beans.

Let Maryland boast of her dainties profuse,
Her large water-melons and cantelopes fine,
Her turtles and oysters and terrapin stews,
And soft crabs high zested with brandy and wine;
Ah! neither my heart from my native land weans,
Where smokes on the table the pot of baked Beans.

The pot of bak’d beans! With what pleasure I view it
Well season’, well pork’d by some rosy-faced dame,
And when from the glowing hot oven she drew it,
Well crisp’d and well brown’d to the table it came.
O give me my country, the land of my teens,
Of the plump Indian pudding and pot of baked Beans.

The pot of bak’d beans! Ah! the muse is too frail,
Its taste to descant or its virtues to tell;
But look at the sons of New England so hale,
And her daughters so rosy; ‘twill teach thee full well;
Like me it will teach thee to sigh for the means
Of health and of rapture – the pot of baked Beans.
                                                  Signed: A Yankee.

The second amusing story concerns the myth of the Sabbath beans – I think we are all agreed that it is a myth? Several nineteenth century magazines repeat the following nice piece of supporting ‘evidence’:

Baked beans were always the only fashionable meal for Sabbath noon in Massachusetts. A minister who is a very correct mathematician, and a bit of a wag withal, has computed that he preached regularly every Sabbath afternoon to fifty-five bushels and three pecks of baked beans, while their owners were asleep.”

As for the recipe for the day, I was going to give you the earliest one I have found so far for simple ‘baked beans,’ as distinct from Boston baked beans. The earliest I have come across so far was from a magazine article in 1833, but it was virtually identical to the Boston baked beans recipe given on Friday. This may or may not be evidence that Boston baked beans are the real thing, and I leave you to consider this.

Instead, I give you the first cookery book version. It is from the prolific Lydia Maria Child’s The American Frugal Housewife (1835), and appears under the heading ‘Beans and Peas.’ Mrs Child does not used molasses or any other sweetener in her baked beans, but does advocate the addition of pepper for health reasons.


Baked beans are a very simple dish, yet few cook them well. They should be put in cold water, and hung over the fire, the night before they are baked. In the morning, they should be put in a colander, and rinsed two or three times; then again placed in a kettle, with the pork you intend to bake, covered with water, and kept scalding hot an hour or more. A pound of pork is quite enough for a quart of beans, and that is a large dinner for a common family. The rind of the port should be slashed. Pieces of pork alternately fat and lean are most suitable; the cheeks are the best. A little pepper sprinkled among the beans, when they are placed in the bean-pot, will render them less unhealthy. They should be just covered with water, when put into the oven; and the pork should be sunk a little below the surface of the beans. Bake three or four hours.

Quotation for the Day.

I like refried beans. That's why I wanna try fried beans, because maybe they're just as good and we're just wasting time. You don't have to fry them again after all.
Mitch Hedberg.

Friday, September 03, 2010

Baked beans.

Yesterday’s post reminded me that I have hardly touched the topic of baked beans in this blog. I have featured two baked bean recipes in the past, one from 1877 and one from 1943, but neither of these was for Boston baked beans – which, I understand from my limited discussions with friendly Bostonians, are the real thing.

Where I hail from, baked beans come in a can (courtesy of Mr. Heinz), are an orangey-red colour due to their coating of tomato sauce, and are essential to a traditional, full English breakfast. I realise now in my maturity that the baked beans that I grew up on may not speak to authenticity in the matter, so I - upstart outsider that I am - decided to seek the truth on Boston baked beans, and provide for you an authentic, original recipe.

I do understand now that I have bitten off more than I can chew, if you will pardon the pun, in the matter of authenticity as it relates to baked beans. It appears that passions can be easily aroused on the subject, and that there are, in fact, almost as many authentic recipes as there are cooks in their country of origin.

The country of origin is, of course, presumed to be America, and the original cooks its original inhabitants, who taught the technique to the migrants/colonists/invaders. It is difficult to sort out the truth from the pretty legend here, and I eagerly await enlightenment from you, dear readers.

The original inhabitants and their early international visitors clearly used the local beans - but pulses have long been a staple in Europe, and migrants/colonists/invaders take their familiar recipes and preferences with them and adapt them as they need to. For the English, pease cooked slowly (with some bacon, if available) were a staple. And what about the French? Did they not adapt their cassoulet when they went to America?

My favourite interpretation of the story of 'American' baked beans (I do hope that it is true) is that the native American method of cooking the native beans was to mix them with bear fat and maple syrup and slow-cook them in earthen or deerskin ‘pots.’ The early Pilgrims did not allow cooking on the Sabbath, so the slow cooking method suited them perfectly as the pot of beans could be left to cook on the back of the stove the previous night, and eaten next day without any further attention.

Next questions. Why the ‘Boston’ connection? And what is specific about ‘Boston’ baked beans? I am bravely entering a mine-field here, folks, so be kind.

The most popular story has it that in the early days, Boston became the centre for rum production, using sugar from the Caribbean. A by-product of the process was molasses, which therefore became the sweetener of choice. So - the early settlers substituted pork for the bear fat, and molasses for the maple syrup, and Voila! Baked beans for breakfast.

The first mention I have found to date specifically for Boston baked beans is in 1800. I feel sure that there are earlier references, and hope that one of you can point me in the direction of a genuine study of the topic. In the meanwhile I give you a recipe which appeared in the Massachusetts Ploughman, in 1847, which was repeated in a number of agricultural journals around the country in that year. An identical recipe was also included in The Improved Housewife: or,Book of Receipts … by Mrs. A.L.Webster, a married lady, published in 1847.

Boston Baked Beans.
The Massachusetts Ploughman gives the following recipe for cooking this famed Yankee dish. We can vouch for its excellence. Take two quarts of middling sized white beans, three pounds of salt pork, and one spoonful of molasses. Pick the beans over carefully, wash and turn about a gallon of soft water to them in a pot; let them soak in it lukewarm over night; set them in the morning where they will boil til the skin is very tender and about to break, adding a teaspoonful of saleratus. Take them up dry, put them in your dish, stir in the molasses, gash the pork and put it down in the dish, so as to have the beans cover all but the upper surface: turn in cold water till the top is just covered; bake and let the beans remain in the oven all night.
[Southern Cultivator, Volumes 6-7, 1847]


Quotation for the Day.

Beans are highly nutritious and satisfying, they can also be delicious if and when properly prepared, and they posses over all vegetables the great advantage of being just as good, if not better, when kept waiting, an advantage in the case of people whose disposition or occupation makes it difficult for them to be punctual at mealtime.
Andre Simon (1877-1970), in The Concise Encyclopedia of Gastronomy (1952)

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

All Soy, All women.

Henry Ford, the automobile pioneer, was also a soy-bean fanatic. He was not only interested in the soy bean as food, but also as a source of industrial materials, and he invested millions in technology to exploit its possibilities. Robert Smith, one of his chemists, said that Ford’s intention was ‘to grow automobiles from the soil’, and he did indeed develop a prototype car body made from soy plastic, but sadly it turned out not to be a practical, viable proposition.

Soy-based foods are well accepted nowadays, but in the 1940’s it was a different story - soybeans were not mainstream. The Ford Company hosted many all-soy meals to help popularise them as a source of food. On September 24, 1943 it was the turn of a ‘selected group’ of Detroit newspaperwomen to be the company’s guests. The ‘World Neighbour Luncheon’ was ‘planned especially to introduce practical soy bean dishes to the world’s housewives, and ‘to demonstrate how the soy bean can help to rehabilitate the war-devastated countries where dairly herds and food sources have all but been destroyed.’

The menu was:

Celery stuffed with soy pimiento cheese.
Canapes of soya crackers with soy butter.
Soy bean soup.
Soya Melba toast.
Soy cutlets.
Soy sprouts Creole.
Buttered green soya beans.
Baked soya beans.
Parsley Potatoes.
Soy bean coffee.
Soy bean milk.
Soy sprout salad.
Soy bean bread, butter, and crackers.
Soya ice-cream.
Soy custard.
Soya cookies.

I am not sure how the parsley potatoes snuck in there, but no matter, the significant thing about this meal was that it was the first mention in print of soya ice-cream – and it was described as rich and delicious by the lucky guests. It was not long before at least one company saw a nice ice-cream niche, and a by mid-March 1944 the Old Mills company were running display ads in the Waterloo (Iowa) Daily Courier for their Toasted Soya Ice Cream - ‘a new and delicious wartime flavor’ with ‘fine ground toasted nut meats and has a slight maple flavoring.’ Sadly, I have not been able to find a 1940’s recipe for soya ice-cream, so this one, the ‘Recipe for the Day’ from the Daily Capital News, Jefferson City Missouri will have to do.

One-Hour Soy Rolls
1 cup hot water,
1 teaspoon salt,
6 tablespoons shortening,
¼ cup sugar,
1 or 2 cakes of yeast,
2 tablespoons luke-warm water,
1 egg, well beaten
¼ cup sifted soya flour
3 ¼ cups sifted flour (white)
Combine hot water, sail, shortening and sugar. Cool until lukewarm. Add yeast softened in lukewarm water. Add egg. Mix and sift flour mixtures and all one half to first mixture. Beat well. Add enough flour to make dough easy to handle. Knead on floured greased muffin tins, brush tops with melted butler, cover and allow rolls to rise in warm place, (80 degrees) until in size. Bake in hot oven 425 degrees for 12 minutes. Remove and brush with fat. For later use, store in refrigerator in greasedbowl. Brush with fat, cover. Makes 18 rolls.


Quotation for the Day …

A census taker once tried to test me. I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti.
‘Hannibal Lecter’ in The Silence of the Lambs.

Thursday, January 08, 2009

Hickory Smoked Yeast

The idea of the necessity of ‘fortifying’ foods with extra vitamin-power is not new. It is difficult to sort out how much of it is driven by real nutritional requirements, and how much by the desire on the part of industry to make a profit from ‘waste’ or surplus products. One manufacturer came up with an idea to value-add (and presumably profit-add) to the already value-adding ingredient of brewer’s yeast in the 1940’s.

The News of Food column in the New York Times in late 1942 ran an article on the problem of obtaining brewer’s yeast in a palatable form “only to be told that the superlative source of the vitamin B complex is now hickory-smoked.” The story of hickory-smoked yeast was picked up some time later in the same column, and the writer continued:

“As a matter of fact, one company has been smoking it in this way for more than six years, marketing it among a few stores scattered about the city. The yeast – processed without heat so that none of the nutrients are destroyed – is a pale yellow powder, smelling like bacon, and tasting a little like it too. A couple of teaspoons furnish about 200 international units of B-1, which is a little below the daily requirement recommended by the National Research Council. The idea is not to eat the stuff as it comes from the silver container, but to blend it with any foods that combine pleasantly with it.
Certain persons, according to one informant, like the yeast, with butter, spread on toast or crackers, pancakes or waffles, fish or meat. Others advocate its usefulness in cheese and egg dishes, baked beans, gravies. Still others sprinkle it on baked potatoes or employ it instead of sugar – at least, so they say – with dried or cooked cereal. The concern itself reports that its versatile yeast is included in the ingredients of many dehydrated soups, some of which find their way to the Army.”

About twelve months later the same columnist gave a number of recipes which included brewer’s yeast as a ‘fortifying agent’. Some of the recipes would appear to have needed the plain variety of yeast, but the following one would lend itself well to the smoked variety. It sounds interesting – a sort of baked bread-and-bean savoury pudding flavoured with sage and ‘fortified’ with yeast (and presumably ‘bacon flavoured’ if the smoked variety is used.)

Sage Baked Beans.
(serves six)
1 ½ cups navy beans.
5 cups cold water
1 ½ teaspoons salt.
1 cup soft breadcrumbs.
1 ½ cups milk.
2 medium-sized onions, chopped.
2 tablespoons drippings or other fat.
1 to 1 ½ teaspoons sage.
½ teaspoon salt.
Dash pepper
2 eggs, beaten.
4 tablespoons brewers yeast.
Soak beans overnight in the water, add salt, and then simmer until tender but not too soft. Soak the crumbs in milk. Brown onion lightly in fat and mix all ingredients. Pour into a greased baking dish, cover and bake in a slow oven (325 degrees F.) and bake one hour.

Quotation for the Day …

If pale beans bubble for you in a red earthenware pot, you can often decline the dinners of sumptuous hosts.
Martial's Epigrams

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Bean-Bellies

March 19 ...

As we discovered yesterday, the folk of Leicestershire used to be nicknamed “Bean Bellies”. I don’t suppose they still are, but here is the explanation for the name, given in a book from 1801.

‘Leicestershire … the air is sweet and wholesome. It is a champaign country in general, and abundantly fertile in corn and grass …. Besides wheat, barley, oats and pease, it produces the best beans in England. They grow so tall and luxuriant in some places, particularly about Barton-in-the-Beans, that they look, towards harvest-time, like a forest; and the inhabitants eat them not only when they are green, as in other places, but all year round; for which reason their neighbours nickname them bean-bellies.’

An ethnic slur with jealousy at its root, it seems:

‘Yea, those of the neighbouring countrys used to say merrily ‘Shake a Leicestershire many by the collar, and you shall hear the beans rattle in his belly.’ But those Yeomen smile at what is said to rattle in their bellies, whilst they know that good silver ringeth in their pockets.’ [1849]

This story is also meant to be a jibe, but there may be a good idea in it:

‘A story [about Leicestershire] that the mayor is chosen by a sow. The candidates sit in a semi-circle, each with his hat full of beans in his lap, and he is the mayor from whose hat the sow eats first.’

A brief potted history of beans is impossible: the origins are lost in the mists of antiquity, and their varieties too numerous to mention here, even if I knew them. That beans are extraordinarily nutritious, and that they have played a vital role in the diet of many cultures throughout history is not in doubt, but nevertheless they have suffered from their share of bad publicity over the centuries.

The followers of the ancient Greek mathematician Pythagoras were prohibited from eating beans, for obscure reasons that will occupy scholars in perpetuity. There are almost as many suggested explanations as there are bean varieties – everything from the risk of precipitating a blood crisis in folk with an inherited deficiency of the enzyme G6PD (it happens, it but it is very rare), to their appearance ‘like genitals’, and to the idea that the hollow stems act as a conduit for the passage of souls to and from the underworld. The commonest reason given is that they produce ‘flatulence’, although why this would be more of a problem to a mathematician I am not sure. The problem occurs as a result of the complex carbohydrates which this ‘musical fruit’ contains. These particular carbs are not able to be digested by humans, so the intestinal bacteria get to enjoy them - and it is their digestive processes, not ours, that produce the gas. Boiling reduces the problem, eating them regularly reduces the problem (the bacteria adjust, apparently), and some say adding garlic and onions to the recipe reduces the problem.

If you thought sweet bean dishes were a Chinese idea, consider this recipe, from a book which has one of my favourite titles – Adam’s Luxury and Eve’s Cookery; or, the Kitchen-Garden display’d.[1744]

Bean Tart
Boil and blanch Green Beans, then make a Puff-paste and put into Petty-pans. Put in a layer of Beans and a Layer of Sweetmeats, with Sugar between each Layer. Then cover them, and make a Hole on the Top; put in a Quarter of a Pint of Lemon-Juice, some Marrow, season’d with Salt, Nutmeg, Cloves, Mace. When bak’d put in a little White Wine thickened with the Yolk of an Egg and Butter into each Tart.

Tomorrow’s Story …

Cakes and Travellers.

Quotation for the Day …

But since he stood for England
And knew what England means,
Unless you give him bacon
You must not give him beans.
G.K. Chesterton.

Tuesday, March 13, 2007

Miss Corson Cooks.

Today, March 13th …

Miss Juliet Corson was born in 1841, and became a librarian when her stepmother insisted she earn her own living at the age of sixteen. Her poor pay and conditions (she had to sleep at the library) gave her a great insight into the difficulties women faced when they had to join the workforce and in particular she developed a great sympathy for the poor.

In the early 1870’s she became involved in the Women's Educational and Industrial Society of New York which offered vocational training for women – and one of the few acceptable occupations was domestic work. In spite of not having any training in it herself she was asked to teach cookery – so she taught herself from books. She must have been a very quick learner and had a natural gift for cooking, because in the space of a few years it was suggested that she open a school.

The school opened in 1876 and had a sliding scale of fees, so that it was affordable for any student. On this day in 1877 she went one better and opened a new department to provide free lessons in “plain cooking” to the daughters and wives of working men. The venture was a success, and Miss Corson became the supreme champion of good nutrition and frugal cookery for the poorer folk.

In August of 1877 she published at her own expence a small book called Fifteen Cent Dinners for Families of Six, which gave suggested bills of fare and recipes for each day for a week. She allowed charitable organisations to distribute the book free of charge to the “families of workingmen earning less than One Dollar and Fifty Cents, or less, per day”.

The suggested Tuesday menu from her book was:

Breakfast: Broth and bread 10c.
Dinner: Baked Beans 10c
Supper: Macaroni with Cheese 12c.

The dishes will cost a little more to make today, but here are the recipes anyway:

Baked Beans.

Put one pint of dried beans, (cost six cents,) and quarter of a pound of salt pork, (cost four cents,) into two quarts of cold water; bring them to a boil, and boil them slowly for about twenty minutes, then put the beans, with about a teacupful of the water they were boiled int, into an open jar, season them with salt and pepper to taste, and one tablespoonful of molasses, (cost of seasoning one cent, ) lay the pork on the top, and bake two hours, or longer. The dish will cost about ten cents, and is palatable and nutritious. The liquor in which the beans were boiled should be saved, and used next morning as broth, with seasoning and a little fried or toasted bread in it.

Macaroni with Cheese.
Boil half a pound of macaroni, as above, put into a pudding dish in layers, with a quarter of a pound of cheese (cost four cents), grated and mixed between the layers; season it with pepper and salt to taste; put a very little butter and some bread crumbs over it, and brown it in the oven. It will make just as hearty and strengthening a meal as meat, and will cost about twelve cents.

Tomorrow's Story ...

The Authentic Waldorf Salad.

A Previous Story for this Day …

Military Ice-Cream was the topic for the day.

Quotation for the Day …

Cooking is one of the oldest arts and one which has rendered us the most important service in civic life. Brillat-Savarin.

Thursday, December 22, 2005

The Taste of Music.

Today, December 22nd …

The composer Giacomo Puccini was born on this day in 1858. Every Christmas he had panettone baked and sent to friends. One year he quarreled with Toscanini and tried to cancel the order, but it was too late and the cake had already been delivered. He sent a telegram to Toscanini saying “Panettone sent by mistake”, to which the reply came “Panettone eaten by mistake.”

The first opera (Euridice) for which the music has survived was written in 1600 for the wedding of Henry IV of France and Marie de Medici at the Pitti Palace in Florence. Classical dishes and fine dining have kept their association with opera ever since.

There was a vogue in the nineteenth century for naming dishes in honour of celebrities and special events, and opera provided plenty. Should you be so inclined, a complete meal could be made on the theme of Aida (salad, turbot, bombe), or Tosca, or Carmen, for example.

Strangely, there does not seem to be a dish named in honour of Puccini himself, although there is a recipe for “Oeufs poche Manon”. Rossini (a passionate gourmand) wins in the composer stakes with, among others, Tournedos, an Escalope de foie gras, and a dish of partridge breast. Verdi has a chicken breast dish, and another was created for Berlioz for the opening night of “Benvenuto Cellini” in 1838. Performers are not left out: we have Peach Melba and Melba toast, “Chicken Tetrazzini” (for Luisa) and “Coupe Adelina Patti”. There are many more!

Puccini was was born in Lucca, in Tuscany, the home of magnificent beans and superb olive oil. His heritage shows in this letter written to his publisher, Giulio Ricordi in 1895:

“ … you will receive some beans; they are oustanding, and this is how you cook them: put them into a pan of cold water (you must get the quantity right, not too much and not too little) and simmer them for two hours over a low flame so that when they are cooked there are only two or three spoonfuls of broth left - that's why you must be careful about the quantity of water.N.B. When you put them in the water add four or five sage leaves, two or three whole bulbs of garlic, salt and pepper and when they (the beans) are half done add a bit of oil to boil with it.

Tomorrow: Keeping cool over the Christmas Ham.