With the pandemic and all, everyone has been talking a lot about beans. Or have they?? It’s hard to know what to believe anymore. Between the cries of fake news, and the scandals at Bon App and other food media, and the fact that I don’t actually see other humans anymore besides the ones that sprung from my own body and my husband, I don’t know anything for sure, outside the four walls of the “playyard” (we have a less glorified name for it) in which I spend most of my waking hours, drinking tea with frogs and singing songs about toes. I digress! But there has been a lot of chatter about how people have been stockpiling beans. And personally, I welcome a topic that isn’t as depressing as the news, the election, or the economical, social, and physical wellbeing of our country. So beans it is.

Plus the babies love beans. (Great for the pincer grasp!) And now that they are old enough to really eat—so much so that I actually have to plan accordingly, not just crack open a jar of applesauce—beans are an ingredient I lean on quite frequently.

Beans are a pretty perfect food. Economical, full of variety, apparent in scores of different cultures, vegetarian/vegan (which I am not, but I do cook vegetarian quite often), full of protein, filling, and available ready to eat. You can eat them in a soup or a curry, or add them to a salad, or make them into a dip. You can dress them up, you can dress them down—well, I guess. Anyway, they are flexible and delicious.

Back in March and April, I tried to get some of the fancy dried beans that I’ve always been too cheap to pursue—like Rancho Gordo—and the ransacked, sold-out website supported the thesis that there are indeed tons of bean-eating people out there who are one step ahead of me. No matter. (And now it seems all stocked up again.) I was and am happy to eat cans of whatever-brand beans that I order by the dozen from Walmart with jumbo packs of diapers. Less romantic, certainly, but still tasty.

So here’s what I’ve been doing with them the last 6 months especially, but really much longer than that: I marinate them. This works with all sorts of beans, including the dried ones you cook yourself in a slowly simmering pot of salted water with a halved onion and some garlic cloves and herb stems if you feel like it. To a bowl, add finely chopped celery, scallions, and lots of soft herbs of your choosing (parsley, chives, cilantro, mint, basil, etc etc.), the zest and juice of a lemon, and lots of olive oil and salt. Optional: a mashed garlic clove, a chopped jalapeño or Serrano (a must for me, if I’m not sharing with the twins), pul biber or another dried hot pepper, spices of your choosing. Add a couple of cans worth of drained and rinsed beans (I most often use small white beans, navy beans, cannellini, or chickpeas) and put in the fridge for at least a few hours. They are amazing cold or at room temp, and they just get yummier after a few days. The mix is important—the brightness of the lemon zest, the zing of the scallions, the crunch of the celery, the freshness of the herbs all contrast with the soft yielding texture of the beans, which soak up the lemon juice, olive oil, and salt. It’s convenient that most of these ingredients I have on hand all the time, pandemic aside. But that said, per usual with everything on this blog, this is a flexible recipe-concept: swap in what you have (shallots for scallions, lime for lemon, a squeeze of harissa, etc.) and taste along the way. Making it your own is half of the fun.

Additions are great too: if you have ripe tomatoes, they are great tossed in right before eating.* Or flake in a can or jar of really high quality tuna. Perhaps some cracked olives. They are great alongside a vegetarian pasta—say one made with hard-sautéed zucchini, pine nuts, and feta—or Mediterranean drips and drabs like jazzed-up orzo (with oranges and toasted almonds, pomegranate seeds, etc.) and a cucumber-yogurt salad. It’s also great with sautéed sausages and greens, or on a pile of arugula with some shaved parmesan. I ate mine yesterday with half an avocado and some toast. In my sometimes-usual world of “grim lunches,” a bowl of marinated beans in the fridge can really perk up a gal. Desperate times? Yes. But these days, as always, it’s about the small things.  

*Just be sure to add enough salt to compensate. I’ve found in my old age that salting tomatoes—ahead of time, if I can—makes them infinitely tastier.