Beans!
Also, one dish with two epic fails, Steve Sando's new book, a great cocktail, and as always, book, viewing, and listening recs, and links we've loved...
Beans! It’s fun to shout! BEANS! They’re good for the heart! I have a bowl of them beside me as I type these words, leftovers from the above dish, about which more below.
But I have to get two epic kitchen failures off my chest. I say “epic” because Ann and I are such extraordinary cooks, such geniuses in the kitchen (stable ones, mind you), capable of jaw-dropping culinary feats—all this is well known, of course—that even the smallest failure must be considered epic.
For me though what makes this one epic is that the dish in question should be so simple, just three ingredients. If those three ingredients—pork, pasta, cheese— are excellent, the finished dish can’t help but be excellent. Right?
Not if that dish is one of the Italian classics. We have, of course, mastered Carbonara (recipe with video here, password pastacarb) and Amatriciana. We were determined to master the simplest (and trickiest) of the four, Cacio Pepe, and we eventually nailed it (I posted a recipe here, password: caciopepe, and wrote about it in an earlier newsletter).
Having been one day in Rome last summer en route to Spello and Spannocchia (which I wrote about here), we had one lunch and one dinner. Ann had Pasta alla Gricia for lunch, I had it for dinner.
We were determined to make it once we were back in the city where we knew two places that sell guanciale, the essential ingredient.
Ann followed an old recipe in The Times. She’d gotten some gorgeous guanciale from Dickson’s Farm Stand Meats. I cut it into batons, and she cooked it perfectly, pulling it from the pan with a slotted spoon.
Alas, when she went to add the guanciale to the pasta, the guanciale was virtually burned. It had over cooked while it sat on the plate.
I decided to give it a go. I thought I’d pull a clever move and treat the cheese as it’s treated in cacio pepe—the cheese emulsified in starchy pasta water. But I added the water to the guanciale and its fat, which was stupid because obviously you need to add the fat later or it will break. Which it totally did.
I had cooked the guanciale perfectly, so dinner was edible, but disappointing. How could I fuck this up so badly?
I have my determined face on now. We will not be defeated by Pasta alla Gricia for long.
Beans To the Rescue!
Does everyone know Steve Sando, bean pope of America, who for 20 years, has been sourcing Mexican legumes for his Napa, CA, company, Rancho Gordo, now the biggest purveyor of personally sourced beans? Then you must, and you must try his beans, his dried corn for pozole, his outstanding chili powder and more.
Steve has published many books but none as handsome and fine as his latest, The Bean Book, which made the NYTimes best-seller list last week.
I’ve been determined to make beans a more frequent main course of my repertoire, partly to reduce my substantial focus on meat, but mainly because I feel so good after a meal of beans and rice. They’re healthy-making. A happy combination of protein and carbohydrate, they are a nutrition bomb. And when they are as fresh and unusual as Steve’s are, they are a culinary delight. Simply cook them in a pot with an onion, a carrot, bay leaf and a dose of salt, and you will have a bowl of beans that will make you think, “These are the best beans I’ve ever had, just on their own, just as they are. And OMG, the bean broth alone I’d put against the finest soups.”
To promote the book, Steve’s publisher, Ten Speed Press, packed big boxes containing the book, beans, and products from some of the companies Steve works with and loves, all small packages and bottles of excellence. It’s one example of Steve’s brilliance and generosity, promoting his book by promoting food companies he supports.
A week and a half ago, when Ann had abandoned me to promote her newest book (exciting, see below!) in Boston, and then Marianne Leone’s book, Five Dog Epiphany, in Newport, RI, which Ann’s imprint, Gracie Belle Books, just published, I decided to make one of the recipes in Steve’s book, with the Santa Maria Pinquitodincluded in the box and a recipe to go with it.
The dish reminded me how versatile good beans are, and how they are infinitely variable depending on what you add to them. Good as beans are on their own, they can be turbo charged with other flavors. You can cook a pot of beans and make four different meals from this one batch. In his Santa Maria Barbecue-Style Pinquito Beans recipe, the beans are cooked with water and a bay leaf. While they’re cooking, you make the turbo-charge: sautéed bacon, onion and garlic, dry mustard, chili powder, a pinch of brown sugar, pureed or dice tomato and (brilliantly) Worcestershire sauce.
Combine these two pans, with plenty of the bean broth, and you’ve got an amazing meal. And if you want it to be a sidedish, serve it as he suggests, with tri-tip steak.
Here’s how good that combo is. I’d left Steve’s book on my desk, opened to the recipe. When I returned from midday errands I found this post-it from Ann.
A thoughtful husband will accept the hint.
Here’s the recipe, with Steve’s blessing.
A Word About Steve …
I’ve only met Steve once, at his Napa warehouse. As he showed me around, I marveled at the proper bean cooking pot, a tall, earthenware, vessel with a pregnant body and narrow top. He gave it to me. “No, really I want you to have it.”
There’s long been debate on whether to, and when to, add salt to beans you’re cooking. I believe Kenji has proven that adding salt early in the cooking encourages tenderness, the opposite. Many believed that if you added salt too early, the beans will never become tender. Before Kenji’s investigation, I asked Steve when he salted his bean pot, responded, “I only add salt when I know the beans are my bitch.”
Another point of bean contention that Steve answered with authority was the question, “Do you have to soak beans before cooking them?”
His response, to wit, was, “Many people think you never need to soak beans ahead. Like, um, the country of Mexico.”
Read this profile in the New Yorker on Steve and you will see why he is a man you’d be well advised to introduce yourself to. (If you hit a paywall, I’ll include a PDF of the article for those who don’t subscribe because it’s so good; it’s by an excellent writer, Burkhard Bilger.) Steve is the rare man who has taste, style, intelligence, and, I don’t know how to say this quickly but the article makes clear, a deep humanity. He’s like a tree—a tree whose roots interlock with the network of life underground and communicate with it. As I said, I’ve only met him once, but he’s sui generis.
Ann’s New Book … a giveaway!
Life’s Short, Talk Fast: 15 Writers On Why We Can’t Stop Watching Gilmore Girls, edited by Ann. Are you a Gilmore Girls fan? Do you know one? This is a really fun book if you love this show about a single mother navigating her precocious daughter through the trials and tribs of adolescence in the fictional town of Stars Hollow. Pub date is 11/12, but you can pre-order from the link above.
To celebrate the book and promote this newsletter, I will be giving away three copies to all new subscribers starting today. Subscribe between now and the next newsletter, October 5, and you will automatically be entered. (Within the US, and apologies for that.)
And the first five people who become a yearly paid subscriber will automatically receive signed copy on request.
A plea for help with gingko nuts …
I mentioned my determination to prepare the gingko nuts that fall from the trees outside our window. When I worked with them last year, I wasn’t pleased with the results. The internet has a range of methods. I’m asking here if any of you has an expertise in preparing them. Please let me know!
What we’re drinking …
Out of nowhere Ann said, “I want one of those sour cherry negronis. Remember those?”
And when Ann says want, it is in fact, WANT.
I did indeed. And I wrote about it here last year:
Our last evening in London, Ann wanted a proper Sunday roast. On a friend’s recommendation, we went to Hawksmore, a high-end steak chain (there’s a new one in NYC!). One of the special drinks of the day was a Sour Cherry Negroni. “WANT,” said Ann. She was not disappointed. Dutiful and curious husband that I am, I snuck off to the bar, where two bartenders described the drink and even showed me their spec sheet for it.
Their ingenious sour cherry juice is made with cherry juice from Whole Foods, mixed with citric acid. Happily, our pal and tiki expert Justin Cristaldi, generously sent us a bottle of cherry cordial from Warwick Valley Distillery. This would work beautifully, if I added a touch of acidity with some lemon juice. Garnish with a cherry, natch. But strip of orange peel would work well too.
The Sour Cherry Negroni
1 ounce gin
3/4 ounce sweet vermouth
1/2 ounce Campari
1/2 ounce cherry cordial
1/2 ounce Amaretto
1 teaspoon lemon juice
brandied cherry or orange twist
Combine all the ingredients in a shaker (or mixing glass if you prefer—technically it should be shaken), add ice and shake or stir till chilled. Pour into an old-fashioned glass over a large ice cube. Garnish with a cherry or orange peel.
Note: if you want to make your own sour cherry juice, add 3 tablespoons of citric acid (available on Amazon), to a quart bottle of Whole Foods cherry juice. Same proportions but skip the lemon.
What we’re watching …
We saw a great movie in a theater this week: My Old Ass, starring Maisy Stella as Elliott, an 18-year-old about to leave the cranberry farm her parents work in the Muskoka Lakes region of Canada (gorgeous!) for university in Toronto. But she and her friends camp out on a small island, take mushrooms, and Elliott is visited by her 39-year-old self, played by Aubrey Plaza, one of the most natural and intriguing actresses working today. Her older self gives Elliott some fun info on her future self, and one extremely severe warning. When you meet a guy named Chad, stay away from him, but she won’t say why. Soon, of course, Chad appears, played beautifully by Percy Hines White, a boy who proves impossible to stay away from. Terrific film that will likely leave you wiping your cheeks as the credits roll.
Annoyed by the current television version of the excellent Scott Turow novel, Presumed Innocent—seriously, why?—we returned to the movie version with Harrison Ford to see if it held up. It does! Watch this instead of the unlikeable new show. (Speaking of bad shows, stay away from Kaos, a retelling of Greek myths with a thoroughly unlikeable Jeff Goldblum as Zeus—and we love Goldblum).
We both found the documentary Look Into My Eyes, about a handful of New York City psychics and their customers, a fascinating look at this world (one of the psychics even admits that he doesn’t know if it’s real or not), but it’s also terribly sad. People go to psychics because they need healing from tragedy (though one lady just wants to know if her dog loves her, and one guy just wants to know if his pet lizard, which he’d given up, is being well treated.) But most people are looking to understand deep loss. A mixed thumbs up for us.
Thanks to all the commenters on the last newsletter, we’ve returned to Slow Horses in a serious way and are loving this series about M15 operatives who are sent out to pasture. (Apple TV)
And I have to add that we saw a fabulous play, Hills of California, written by Jez Butterworth (we loved his last, The Ferrymen) and directed by Sam Mendez. Not since The Lehman Trilogy have I been this thrilled by theater. It’s about four sisters raised to be in show biz in the 1950s and what became of them as the theater mom lies dying in the 1990s.
What we’re reading …
I don’t know why. Maybe it fell off the shelf by accident. Maybe it inched off by itself because it knew I needed it again, but I’m rereading So Long, See You Tomorrow, a masterful short novel (actually a memoir) by New Yorker fiction editor William Maxwell: a man looks back on his 11-year-old self, trying to understand the loss his mother to the Spanish Flu. Sentence by sentence a pleasure. If you haven’t read it, I highly recommend it.
Our Promiscuous Reader is still involved judging novels for The Mark Twain Prize, which has been eating into her reading but she managed to squeeze in some pleasure reading:
If the words “saga” and “historical” and “family” appeal to you, This Strange Eventful History by Claire Messud is the big fat book you’ve been waiting for. Covering seven decades in the life of an Algerian family, we move from WWII through Algerian independence with the parents and children, spinning through history and pursuing the question of what home means.
What we’re listening to …
Podcaster and loyal reader here, Matt O’Donnell, a Nashville musician, turned me on not to Brad Mehldau (whom I love, thanks Chris), but rather to the combo, Brad Mehldau and mandolinist Chris Thile. They’re a fabulous duo.
I’m also listening to a very disappointing Elton John memoir, Me, which I’m not even going to link to.
Ann though has found a great audiobook:
I love The Third Gilmore Girl by Kelly Bishop so much that even writing about it here gets me all kinds of excited. In case you don’t know, Kelly Bishop won a Tony as Sheila in the original A Chorus Line and eventually landed the plum roll of Emily Gilmore in The Gilmore Girls. This is the story of a real actress, from hoofer to icon. I am listening to it, and she reads her story in her fabulous husky voice.
Links we’ve loved (and 2 that annoyed me)…
A New York Times writer wants delis to bring back liverwurst which seems to be vanishing. Hear, hear!
Pete Wells weighs in on a new drinks trend, martinis that embrace vermouth. Good story and his post-restaurant-critic debut article.
I hope you know my love of a good Caesar Salad, and my disdain for the chicken Caesar, but Caesar “variations” are now officially off the rails. This Parmasan-crusted salmon Caesar with a doctored mayo dressing is just plain gross. Why is it even in the Caesar category? And the roasted Brussels sprouts Caesar with Tahini? What makes this a Caesar? The romaine? Lemon, garlic, parm, croutons, I guess. Certainly isn’t the cumin, crushed red pepper, or tahini. Make whatever salad floats your boat, but please don’t call it Caesar.
Who knew that spuds needed reviving in England? TikTok. (The Guradian)
Ann gave me this fascinating green-blue test whilst hurkle-durkling, created by a neuroscientist who studies vision after he realized he and his wife saw blue and green differently.
Speaking of Gilmore Girls, two journalists have created a substack called Gilmore Women, wherein they discuss all things in Stars Hollow.
And finally …
Ann and I both were floored by Claire Keegan’s novella Small Things Like These, about the the Magdalene laundries. And we were a little obsessed with Cillian Murphy in Peaky Blinders. He’s now starring in the movie version of Keegan’s book. Here’s the trailer. Nice to see him with normal hair!
And that’s all for this week! Thanks for reading, and thank you, paid subscribers, most of all. It’s gotten to the point where I don’t know if I could write this newsletter without you. As ever heart this past if you heart it. We love and read and respond to all comments. And please share this newsletter with friends who might like the culinary and cultural news and commentary. Have a great weekend!
Caesar salad watch: https://cooking.nytimes.com/recipes/1025950-roasted-brussels-sprouts-caesar-with-tahini.
J’adore liverwurst and fortunately this outstanding resource is within driving distance of my house on the North Shore. https://karlssausage.com
Now excuse me while I go sign up for that Gilmore Women Substack…..already pre-ordered Ann’s gem. Happy Saturday!
I absolutely love Rancho Gordo beans, thanks to you mentioning them in From Scratch (which I love as well). They are well worth the extra couple bucks compared to grocery store beans. We tend to place a big order both for the free shipping and so we always have some on hand.
Also, thank you for your open honesty regarding your kitchen fails. Good to know the masters have their moments as well! ;)
And a book rec back: if you haven't read Bilger's Fatherland, do.