White Bean

Dried beans cook best when soaked for a number of hours. Overnight is best. Cover the beans with plenty of water to keep them from poking up above the surface when they have absorbed water and swelled. I cover them with at least three times as much water as beans. If all the beans were not completely submerged overnight some will cook at a different rate than others and you’ll end up with overdone and underdone beans in the same pot. Drain after soaking and use fresh water for cooking them. All over the world, beans are traditionally cooked in earthenware pots (and for some reason they seem to taste better when they are), but any heavy nonreactive pot will do. Try to choose a wide pot so the layer of beans isn’t too deep; otherwise the beans are hard to stir and the ones on the bottom of the pot get crushed. Be sure to use enough water that stirring them is easy: the water level should always be an inch or so above the level of the beans. If the water is too low, the beans will be crowded and will tend to fall apart when they are stirred. Worst of all they might start to stick and burn on the bottom of the pot. Salt is best added towards the end of the cooking to keep the beans tender. When done, the beans should be tender but not falling apart, though it is better to overcook them than undercook them! You don’t want them to be the least bit al dente, or crunchy. The best way to test them is to bite one. Start testing after an hour. When they are fully cooked, let right away, the skins will crack and they’ll look shaggy. When cooking fresh shell beans there is no need to soak them. Just pop them out of their shells and put them in a pot. Cover with water by no more than about 1 1/2 inches: the beans will not absorb much water. Add the salt at the beginning and begin testing for doneness after about 10 minutes. Depending on the variety, the beans may take as long as an hour to cook, but usually they are done in much less time. Beans can be flavored at the end of their cooking and served right away; or once cooked, they can be cooled, flavored or not, refrigerated (or frozen) in their liquid, and used later.

Minestrone means “big soup” in Italian: a big soup of many vegetables. In order for them all to be cooked through at the same time, they’re added in stages. First a tasty soffritto (a base of aromatic vegetables) is made, long-cooking vegetables are added and moistened with water or broth, and the soup is brought to a boil, at which point the more tender vegetables are added. Dried beans and pasta are cooked separately and added at the end. The recipe below is for a classic summertime minestrone, followed by seasonal variations. The soffritto can be made of onions only but often includes carrots and celery. Fennel can be substituted for the celery when a more delicate flavor is wanted. Garlic is always added at the end of the cooking to ensure that it does not burn. Be sure to use a heavy-bottomed pot and lots of olive oil. For a more hearty soup, let the soffritto cook to a golden hue; for a less robust version, don’t let the vegetables color at all. Either way, the vegetables should be cooked through to give the soup the full benefit of their flavors; this will take 10 minutes or more. They’re done when they look and taste good enough to eat on their own. The vegetables added after the soffritto—such as squash and green beans—are cut into pieces small enough to ensure that each spoonful of soup will contain a mixture. They’re added sequentially, according to the length of time they take to cook through without getting mushy. Greens need to be cut into bite-size pieces, too; if they’re cut in strips they can hang down and dribble hot soup on your chin or your clothes. Winter greens such as kale or chard take longer to cook and should go in with the first group of vegetables. Tender greens such as spinach will cook in just a few minutes and should be added towards the end of cooking. Salt the soup as it cooks; this will intensify and improve the flavor as a last-minute salting cannot. Dried beans—and pasta, if you’re using it—should be cooked separately before being added to the soup. Save the bean cooking liquid; it adds flavor and body to the soup. The cooked beans should be added during the last 10 minutes so they have a chance to absorb flavor, but not overcook. The pasta should be added at the very end so it doesn’t overcook and get bloated and flabby. To preserve its fresh flavor, the garnish of olive oil and cheese should be added to the bowls of soup, not to the pot. I always pass a bowl of grated cheese and a bottle of olive oil at the table.

This dish, popular in northern Mexico, is a summer favorite at my house and tastes great with any grilled seafood, not just octopus. Freshly cooked beans are always best, but you can substitute canned beans; just be sure to rinse them thoroughly. You’ll need two 14-ounce cans here.

A classic example of the type of salads you’ll find in Italy, this is easy to throw together and more impressive than the usual mixed green salad. Depending on the region, the type of cheese may differ. I love to nibble on chunks of Pecorino as I make it.

Spezzatino is an Italian vegetable stew that has meat in it. This one boasts small bites of chicken and a sprinkle of crunchy pancetta. I love artichokes, so I add them, along with the beans, to make this soup a meal.

This is rustic and simple, and deeply satisfying. Pureed beans can get a bit crusty when exposed to air, so if you make these ahead of time, drizzle a bit of a nice fruity olive oil over each crostini to keep it fresh and make it glisten. If you want a lighter version, you can certainly serve this on cucumber rounds, but I love the way the smoky flavor of the eggplant and the grilled bread work together.

Rome is famous for its artichokes, and in the Jewish district you can buy amazing fried whole artichokes on street corners. Back home, I use frozen artichokes for ease and I love combining them with beans in a creamy dip for bruschetta, a favorite snack throughout Italy. The crispy, salty prosciutto highlights the subtle flavor of the artichokes and adds crunch.

Like most bean dishes this puree is best if you use freshly cooked dried beans, but it is still good with canned beans. One-quarter pound of dried beans will yield about one cup, the amount needed for this recipe, although you can double the quantities if you like. If you use dried beans, cook them in unsalted water to cover (presoaking is unnecessary), with a couple of bay leaves, until very tender. If you use canned beans, you’ll need almost a full fifteen-ounce can to get one cup (there’s a lot of water in those cans).

Cassoulet in forty minutes or less is heresy, of course, but even “real” cassoulet was designed as a bean stew containing whatever meat, preferably fatty and flavorful, was available to throw in. That’s the spirit here, too. Although the pork tenderloin need not be browned before further cooking, the sausage benefits from a quick browning, definitely worth the five-minute effort. If you can get duck confit, just brown it lightly on both sides, adding both it and its fat to the stew in place of the duck breast.

Like tsimmes (page 502), this recipe was originally designed to sit in an oven after a fire had been built, cooking slowly overnight and even into the next day to provide a hot Sabbath meal for Jews who were not allowed to (actively) cook after sunset on Friday. Provided you have no such restrictions, it’s a little easier to make cholent, a wonderful stew of any meat, beans, barley, and potatoes; I believe it’s especially good with limas, which in any case are traditional in at least parts of Europe. Other cuts of meat you can use here: lamb shoulder is also good and, if you’re not too worried about tradition, so is pork shoulder.

If you like franks and beans, this is for you. There are, of course, more complicated versions, ending with cassoulet, but this is the starting point. Other cuts of meat you can use here: longer, because they need some simmering time, but very good, are browned chunks of pork or lamb shoulder (or both), cooked in the beans in place of (or in addition to) the sausage.

Some Spaniards, like my friend Jose Andres, a chef based in Washington, D.C., who taught me this recipe, can talk until they’re blue in the face about fabada, the famous pork and bean stew they say is “the grandfather of the French cassoulet.” They will remind you to use only real fabes (dried beans you can find only at gourmet stores or specialty Web sites and that cost up to $20 a pound), tell you that you must have fresh morcilla (blood sausage), and on and on until you’re convinced that there’s no way you could ever make fabada at home. But dedication to the dish’s origins, along with a couple of simple substitutions, allows you to retain its spirit without going nuts.

This is the cassouletlike dish of the mountains between Spain and France, claimed by several cultures. When I was there, I was told that each of twenty different versions was the “only” authentic one; in this way, too, it’s like cassoulet. What they all had in common were the large white beans called Tarbais (after Tarbes, one of the larger towns of the region)—which you probably will not be able to find—and a stultifying heartiness. Great stuff: you must serve it with crusty country bread and a good red wine.

This is a classic combination of Italian spring vegetables, but it’s also a template for stewing any fresh veggies you like in olive oil. If you cannot get small artichokes—those so small they have no choke, so you can simply trim and quarter them—use frozen artichoke hearts. If you cannot get favas, use limas; here, too, frozen are okay, and the same with peas. This stew makes a good sauce for cut pasta, like penne. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: This is nearly a universal recipe; almost anything you can think of will work here, from spinach to potatoes to asparagus, as long as you adjust the cooking time accordingly. Mix and match as you like.

You can use precooked (or canned) beans here, and the total time will be a mere twenty minutes, but if you cook dried beans with the proper spicing to begin with, the ultimate dish will be somewhat better. The traditional medium for frying beans is lard and with good reason; it’s delicious. But you can also make wonderful refried beans with a combination of cumin and well-browned onion. Other legumes you can prepare this way: red beans are standard; neither black nor white beans are as common, but they work well.

An unexpected and even elegant side dish (I love that it can also be served cold, as a dip). You can make this with leftover cooked beans, canned beans, or frozen beans—in which case it will take 10 minutes—but if you cook dried beans this way, with these seasonings, they’ll be sensational. Other legumes you can prepare this way: chickpeas (allow for longer cooking time), flageolets.

One of the most basic, simple, and delicious bean dishes. When my kids learned how to make this, they would open a can of beans, heat it with olive oil and garlic, and add some salt. Period. My way is a tiny bit more sophisticated, but not much. These are great on their own but also fantastic as a side dish with grilled meats of any kind. As with all legumes, if you have a chance to soak the beans ahead of time, they will cook a little more quickly, but it isn’t essential.

The addition of stock boosts this simple bean preparation (not much different from the preceding one in technique) to another level, and it’s a good one. This is a more elegant bean dish, at home with any good dish of roast meat, like Lechon Asado (page 375) or Grilled or Roast Lamb with Herbs (page 358). As with all legumes, if you have a chance to soak the beans ahead of time, they will cook a little more quickly, but it isn’t essential. Other legumes you can prepare this way: chickpeas (allow for longer cooking time), flageolets (the traditional French accompaniment to leg of lamb).

This classic combination of beans and tuna is great when made with white beans that have been cooked with garlic and other spices, like White Beans with Garlic (page 441). If you use bland or canned or frozen beans, jack up the seasonings here; add, for example, a bit of garlic, some fresh thyme, and/or a little cayenne. A great picnic recipe, this can be made well in advance; note the green bean and salami variations, which are also good. Any of these salads would be great toppings for Crostini (page 41) as well.

Galicia’s hearty bean and meat stew makes a terrific one-pot meal but is often served in cups as a starter. The rich flavors of the meat and beans are complemented by the sharp turnip and greens. In Galicia, the meat base is made from unto, a cured pork belly that I would tell you how to find if I knew. It’s not unlike pancetta but most like the fatty part of prosciutto, which would make a great substitute; salt pork or bacon is also fine—here I use a combination. There are as many ways to vary Caldo Gallego as there are to vary beef stew. For example, substitute chickpeas for the white beans; add chunks of pork shoulder, ribs, beef brisket, shin, chuck, or oxtail with the beans (increase the cooking time somewhat); replace the chorizo with other sausage; add peeled chunks of winter squash, pumpkin, apple, or pear; or substitute green beans or kale, collards, or chard for the cabbage.

Pistou is a garlic-basil paste almost identical to pesto—the names in fact are the same, just in different dialects. In France it’s used less to dress pasta than to thicken soups while heightening their flavor. Pistou is usually passed at the table so your guests can add as much as they like.

A typical topping for crostini (and not a bad dish on its own), this hearty combination makes a great starter for a vegetarian meal. Cannellini beans are traditional here, but any white bean will work. The spread and bread may be made well in advance, but don’t combine them until just before serving.

Known as pasta fazool in the Italian American community, this is the cornerstone of Italian soup-making. This recipe traveled easily from Italy along with the early immigrants. Beans and the other ingredients were easy to find, and the technique they used was just like back home. An inexpensive, nutritious soup, it cooked by itself while the woman of the house did her chores. Some options to vary this soup would be to purée part or all of the beans after they have been cooked, and before you add the pasta. This is the version kids love, and it is also used in restaurants for a seemingly elegant touch, although I like to bite into my beans. I also substitute rice or barley for the pasta, a common practice in the north of Italy, where rice is abundant.