Dried beans mean hearty eating
During my Smokies boyhood there were a number of what might be reckoned staple foods on our family table. At any rate, if “staple foods” translates to items that figured prominently in our daily diet, they certainly qualified. Among them were cornbread, apples in a wide variety of preparations, streaked meat for seasoning, a base for gravy, and fried until crisp to offer a hint of meat with an otherwise all-vegetable meal, and eggs. Yet for several months of the year, beginning in October and continuing until the first offerings of spring from the garden or nature’s larder became available, no type of food was more commonplace than dried beans in one form or another.
We dried some of our own legumes. That included October beans, crowder peas, lima beans, and leather britches, but this was a foodstuff Mom also bought from the store. That was somewhat unusual, especially in the vegetable line, but pintos, navy beans, and indeed pretty much every type of dried bean were cheap enough to meet her skimpy budget and deeply ingrained frugality. With beans and a bit of seasoning in the form of bacon grease or a slice or two of streaked meat, once partnered with a pone of cornbread you pretty much had the essentials for a hearty, inexpensive meal.
The appeal of dried beans from those fine culinary times of yesteryear remains as strong as ever, and the fact that they provide excellent, inexpensive nutrition should not be overlooked. If you start checking out healthy diet choices, one thing you will encounter time and again as a recommended source of protein, a key item for a balanced diet, and an important consideration in keeping one’s innards in fine functioning order, is dried beans. For my part, while all of those are factors of undeniable importance, the two considerations that come first and foremost involve my staunch adherence to mountain foodways and the irresistible pull of scrumptious foods. Dried beans win a blue ribbon, at least in my mind, on both counts. Here are a bevy of recipes that should offer tasty proof of why that is the case.
NOTE: Any time you are using dried legumes the first step should be to “look” your beans. That means going through them carefully, maybe using a colander in the process, to remove any trash, stems, tiny rocks, or other detritus that might be present.
Jim Casada photo
Dried beans mean hearty eating
Soup beans and ham hock
Soup beans have long been a staple item of mountain fare, a true comfort food on a cold winter’s day and a delicious way to make a little meat and a lot of beans go a long way in terms of satisfying food cravings and keeping budgetary considerations in fine fettle. Give an old-time trencherman like my Grandpa Joe a big bowl of soup beans, some chowchow to adorn it , and a steaming hunk of cornbread slathered in butter and he was in “pull up to the table and take nourishment” heaven. Incidentally, “soup beans” aren’t a soup at all. When cooked the traditional way the amount of moisture present is just sufficient to sop with cornbread as opposed to being true soup. Pretty much any kind of large dried bean will work—navy beans, pintos, October beans, and the like.
- 2 cups of dried beans
- Ham hock or soup bone (or lacking that, a chunk of streaked meat)
- Salt, along with black and red pepper, to taste (if you use any kind of salted meat, keep that in mind so you don’t add too much salt)
Look your beans and place them in a large stew pot. Cover with water, making sure that the water is at least a couple of inches above the beans. Any beans that float should be removed. Soak overnight. They will absorb most if not all the water so you will need to add more once the cooking process begins. To cook, add the meat and bring the pot to a boil before turning the heat down a slow simmer. Add black and red pepper at this point, holding off on salt until you taste to see if more is needed when beans are ready to serve. You want to cook until the beans are tender but not so long they become mushy. Serve with a pone of cornbread and some stewed apples. You’ll be every bit as well off as folks eating fancy fixin’s in a four-star restaurant.
Split Pea Soup
Split peas are available on the shelves of most grocery stories, and the fact that they are small and split means they require far less soaking/cooking time than larger dried legumes. Here’s a hearty soup that’s perfect for a bitterly cold winter day.
- 1 cup ham, cooked and chopped into small pieces (an ulu is the perfect kitchen tool for this)
- 1 cup kielbasa or other link sausage, chopped
- ½ pound split green peas
- 2 carrots, diced
- 2 potatoes, peeled and chopped
- 1 green onion, diced
- 6 cups water
- Salt and black or red pepper to taste
In a large kettle, combine all ingredients and bring to a rolling boil. Reduce heat and simmer, covered, for an hour or until the peas are tender. With a potato masher, mash the soup a bit to get everything fully blended. Simmer another 15 minutes for a thick, hearty soup.
Leather Britches
Leather britches are dried green beans. It’s possible they are available through specialty food stores but my experience with them is strictly limited to the “dry your own” side of things. This was once a standard ritual with mountain folks, and long strings of green beans, pierced with a sturdy needle and affixed to a lengthy piece of twine (strings were removed from the beans but they were left whole, not broken), regularly adorned barn rafters or a similarly protected spot while they dried in the summer sun. Once completely dried they might be stored (still hanging) in the kitchen or perhaps a can house until ready for the pot. Many a high country kitchen featured strings of leather britches, as well as of hot peppers, hanging in a convenient place just waiting for the loving attention of a skilled cook. Leather britches have a distinctively different taste from fresh or canned green beans—rich, slightly smoky, and exuding hearty goodness.
- Leather britches
- Water
- Salt and pepper to taste
- Seasoning in the form of fatback (salt pork), bacon, or ham
Soak the leather britches overnight before cooking. Discard the water used to soak and rinse the beans. Place the soaked leather britches in a pot and cover with fresh water. Add salt and pepper to taste along with seasoning meat. Cook at a low simmer for several hours until soft. You will need to add additional water, checking periodically to see when more is needed.
Rabbit with Lima Beans
My family ate a lot of small game when I was a youngster. Dad was an avid hunter (as was I) who always kept at least a brace of beagles, and from November through the end of rabbit season in February, seldom indeed was there a Saturday or holiday when we weren’t on the cottontail trail. We also did a great deal of squirrel hunting (I’d rush home from school every day to change clothes and head out in the quest for bushytails). Momma fixed the end product of our successful efforts in a variety of delectable ways, and this recipe offers an unusual pairing for small game and lima beans (chicken can be substituted for rabbit if you don’t hunt, and squirrel can also take the place of rabbit).
- 2 rabbits, dressed and cut into pieces (leg quarters and back)
- Flour, salt, and pepper
- ¼ pound bacon
- 2 cups dried lima beans, looked and then soaked overnight
- 1 medium onion, chopped
- 2 celery ribs, chopped
- 2 carrots, chopped
- 2 cups boiling hot water
- 1 tablespoon sugar
- 1 cup sliced okra
- 3 potatoes, sliced
- 2 cups frozen or canned corn
- 2 16-ounce cans stewed tomatoes
- 1 bay leaf
- Dash thyme and parsley (optional)
- ½ teaspoon crushed red pepper
Dredge rabbit pieces in flour, salt, and pepper mixture. Set aside while frying bacon in a Dutch oven. Remove the bacon and brown the rabbit in the bacon grease. Then return the bacon to the drippings and browned meat. Add the lima beans, onion, celery, and 3 carrots and cover with boiling water. Simmer for two hours, adding more water if necessary. The meat can be removed from the bones at this point if desired. Add remaining ingredients and simmer for an additional hour or until rabbit and vegetables are tender. If desired, thicken with a flour-and-water paste at this point and adjust seasonings to taste. Makes 6 to 8 hearty portions and is a fine way to stretch out a couple of rabbits (or a baking-size hen or 3 or 4 squirrels).
Dried beans mean hearty eating
Black Bean Soup
One type of dried bean I never ate as a boy was black beans. That waited until adulthood, an introduction to Tex-Mex foods, and the experimental culinary genius of my late wife. One of her creations, and I suspect it was an offshoot of something she had read about in a cookbook where things like carnitas, frijoles, tacos, and the like loomed large, was a splendid soup she concocted using black beans.
- 2 cups black beans, looked, rinsed, and soaked
- 1 hefty chunk of streaked meat (or a ham hock if you have one)
- 6 cups cold water
- 2 cups chicken broth
- 1 medium onion, chopped
- 1 minced garlic clove
- 2 tablespoons butter
- 2 bay leaves
- 2 tablespoons fresh parsley (1 if you used dried)
- 2 cups kielbasa or smoke venison sausage (I always use the latter) finely chopped
- Salt and pepper to taste
- Sharp cheddar cheese, shredded
- Sour cream
- Chopped mild onion
Soak beans for at least two hours and then drain. Fill Dutch oven with meat, beans, fresh water, and chicken broth. Cook on low until beans are tender. Sauté onion and garlic in butter and add to soup along with bay leaves, parsley, kielbasa, salt and pepper. Continue cooking over low heat until beans are soft (about three hours). Add water if the soup becomes too thick. Remove bay leaves. Garnish with shredded cheese, sour cream, and onion.
About the author: Jim Casada is a full-time freelancer and the author of numerous books including several cookbooks, the most recent of which are Venison Cookbook: From Field to Table—400 Field- and Kitchen-Tested Recipes and, with co-author Tipper Pressley, Celebrating Southern Appalachian Food. To order either book or learn more about Jim’s writing, visit jimcasadaoutdoors.com.