Rice and beans together goes by many names. “Hoppin’ John” across many parts of the US or simply “Red Beans & Rice” in New Orleans proper. Orez Shu’it in Jerusalem. And if you’ve ever been to Central America, you know about gallo pinto. There it’s on every menu and eaten all hours of the day as the ‘national dish’ – a term that usually tips off my bogus marketing radar but here seems applicable. Found in a gadzillion permutations it still basically comes down to rice and beans. Costa Rica and Nicaragua both attempt to lay claims to the origin but I’d be really surprised if convergent culinary evolution didn’t land those two key ingredients together in dozens of regions simultaneously around the planet. As usual, it’s the twists and turns to spicing and technique that sign the dishes locally.
Since I’m about halfway between the Equator and the North Pole, I put my own spin on it too but like my bean obsessed friends down south, I slip in chile and a fresh egg to make it my own morning pick me up. Overloaded with protein is a great way to start the day. Sometimes I scramble the egg in with everything, sometimes I cook the rice in the bean pot, sometimes I make nice little piles of everything on the plate and mix on the fork. The main point for me is that the beans are cooked properly and that takes a bit of technique. Read on for years of bean juggling experience.
You all know my obsession with beans in general but for my own standards, I start with dry beans. I’ve rattled on about method there before so here’s the short version. Start with dry beans and cold water to cover by four times. Soak for at least eight hours or up to two days changing the water a few times.* Drain and add fresh water that covers by double with a reasonable measure of sea salt and bring to boil for five minutes. Reduce to simmer until appropriately tender for your intended use, anywhere from thirty to sixty minutes depending on the type of bean and where they’re headed in your kitchen. Done. That part is no secret but here’s where the method gets interestingly subtle.
* NOT the ‘quick soak’ method prescribed on most packages and by convenience-inspired cooks.
Let those simmered beans cool slowly in their salted cooking water on the counter, usually a couple hours, which seems to let the salt penetrate a bit more but I can’t prove any of that science. Next drain them very well and pop them in the fridge uncovered which will further dry their surfaces and avoid ‘wet bean mush’ for several days. I actually keep a bowl of home-cooked drained beans on the chill in my fridge most days starting the week with a huge pot’s worth. Apart from my take on gallo pinto I toss them into salads and soups willy nilly or blend them smooth into dipping fodder for tortillas and pitas towards the end of the week if they make it that far. Any sort of bean will do too but I’m a fan of good old-fashioned red kidneys. Pleasantly firm and a good size for everything. Usually cheap as chips too.
For my gallo pinto, use a high-sided sauce pan over medium heat and add your desired measure of cooked beans with roughly two parts olive oil and one part cider vinegar adjusting to taste with practice. For two cups of cooked beans that’s about three tablespoons total. If you’re really feeling indulgent and carnivorous try some bacon drippings in place of the olive oil. You can add garlic and tomatoes and seasonings and other other inspiration later but at this stage leave those inclusions out of the mix. If you cooked your beans properly they’ll be salty enough already. In just a minute or two when they begin to sizzle, either swirl the pan vigorously or put a lid on it and shake side to side like you’ve lost your mind for a solid thirty count.
This does a few things. It breaks up the skins of the beans slightly giving them a ‘shaggy’ look (see the photo above) which allows some of that tart vinegar to penetrate. The agitation will also emulsify the oil slightly and when mixed with the bean proteins will make them surprisingly creamy. Just a bit of freshly ground pepper to taste is all you’d need at this point to devour the whole pan – something I do all too often before I even get to the rice. If you want to add in other veg, garlic and tomato being common, feel free to improvise but I dare you taste them ‘naked’ * and not feel like you’ve died and gone to bean heaven.
* The beans, not your person. What you wear in the morning next to the stove is none of my business. Never fry naked they say but some of you are risk takers I’m sure.
You could just cook up ordinary creamy rice to slip under these beauties. Or simmer it in with some of the cooking liquid from the bean pot. I think, however, that mutes the delightful texture and taste of the beans you’ve worked up into creamy goodness so I usually prefer to cook my rice, egg, and anything else separately. On days I’m going full gallo, I make a quick spiced oil which is sometimes called a tarka or chaunk on the other side of the globe. A few tablespoons of cold oil with perhaps some ghee in for good measure gets a dose of whole brown mustard and cumin seeds, garlic, and any chile of opportunity. Maybe even a bay leaf, a cinnamon stick, or anything else that inspires me in the moment. Bring up to heat until the seeds begin to pop and become aromatic before tossing in your uncooked rice to coat the grains individually. Proceed from there to your preferred method of rice wrangling, e.g. ‘risotto’ style with liquid slowly absorbed or into the rice cooker nearest you. I swear by my Japanese fuzzy logic cooker for one-touch, bleary-eyed mornings.
As the rice finishes the beans go onto a warmed plate with a generous dose of my chile-based sauce but you could use your favourite pre-bottled version as well. I soft fry an egg from a happy chicken in the pan that held the spiced oil and lay it ceremoniously across the whole affair once the rice is done. Add a few warmed tortillas and a papaya sprinkled with chile powder and lime juice and you’ll start the day properly. Just like they do in Costa Rica.
ps. I’ve specifically NOT made this a ‘by the numbers’ recipe because it should change daily depending on your mood and your pantry. If you get the creamy bean technique down, you can go a million ways from there.
