summer

a perfect pot of beans

Image: Olaiya Land

There’s a special pleasure to be had in doing a simple thing well. In taking the time to do it slowly and properly then standing back to admire your work.

The sort of things I’m thinking of have an old-fashioned, almost Victorian air about them: making a bed with crisp hospital corners. Polishing a tray of silver until it sings. Mowing the lawn into bright green zig zags. 

Image: Olaiya Land

I am a lover of all these sorts of tasks--shelling peas, ironing laundry, organizing books on a shelf. This might be because my personality veers towards the OCD end of the spectrum. Or it might be because these sort of activities pull me away from the constant pinging of my phone and the flashing notifications on my computer screen and my general hurried busy-ness. They allow me to concentrate fully on what’s in front of me, which feels like a small luxury these days.

One such task I would place on this list is cooking a perfect pot of beans. 

Image: Olaiya Land
Image: Olaiya Land

Given the current fascination with foods like bee pollen, dragon fruit, active charcoal and cashew milk, beans don’t exactly sound like the sexiest of ingredients. But I have a hunch this is due largely to the fact that many (most?) people don’t know how to cook dry beans properly.

(Don’t worry--I’m not going to go on a rant about how you should become an urban homesteader and start making everything from scratch. I appreciate the convenience of popping open a can of beans on a Tuesday night.) 

Image: Olaiya Land
Image: Olaiya Land

That said, a warm bowl of freshly cooked beans tossed with olive oil, salt and a splash of lemon juice--maybe a handful of herbs if we’re feeling fancy--is a very fine thing. Forget the bland mushiness of canned beans. Home-cooked beans have a firm skin, silky interior and their own distinct flavors. Bonus points: they're cheap and super healthy. All of which is why I want you to give cooking your own beans a try.

If you haven’t had luck with cooking your own beans or have forgotten how easy it can be, I've got a step-by-step guide for you below on how to prepare perfectly flavorful and not-even-a-little-bit-mushy beans every time. 

And when you've cooked up your perfect pot of beans, don't forget to sit back and savor a job well done.

XO,

Olaiya


How to Cook a Perfect Pot of Beans

1. Buy good beans.  Beans might be a humble ingredient, but buying quality pays off in the pot. The sort of beans you get in a 2-lb. bag at a large chain grocery store might have been harvested as much as 5 (!!!) years ago. Which means they will be less flavorful and won't cook as evenly. As with most things, fresher is better. You want beans that were harvested this year or last (depending on the time of year). How do you know you're getting fresh beans? But them from someone who specializes in (and loves) beans! My two favorite sources are Zursun Heirloom Beans and Rancho Gordo. Both of these growers specialize in bringing a variety of heirloom beans to a wider audience. If you haven't tried these beans before, they will change your life. 

2. Soak your beans.  I know there are all sorts of tips and tricks floating around on the internet for cooking your beans without soaking them. And I'm sure lots of those work in a pinch. But for tender, evenly cooked beans that don't fall apart or get mushy, I've found that the only way to go is an overnight soak. You want to hit at least 6 hours. For denser beans (like chickpeas) and larger beans (like corona beans or gigantes) I aim for a 24-hour soak (or as close as I can get) to make sure they're fully and evenly hydrated before cooking.

How to: Place your dried beans in a large bowl and cover them with cold water. Your beans will usually double in size as they soak, so make sure you cover them with enough water to allow them to expand. If your kitchen is hot or if you're soaking for longer than 8 hours, place the beans in the fridge to hydrate.

3. Drain your beans before cooking.  Unless, of course, you love to fart. Beans contain carbohydrates called oligosaccharides, which are poorly absorbed in the stomach and then rapidly fermented by bacteria in the large intestine, causing gas. Some of these oligosaccharides are released into the water as beans soak. So pouring off that water reduces the amount of pesky oligosaccharides hanging out ready to ruin your next date or team meeting. I have been doing this for years and beans almost never give me any sort of gut problems.

How to: Drain your soaked beans in a colander and rinse them under cold running water for 15-30 seconds.

4. Season your cooking water well.  It hurts my soul when I see someone chuck a bunch of soaked beans into a pot with nothing else but water and start cooking them. Like any other ingredient, beans need a little help to release their full flavor. I usually season my beans with olive oil, a ton of garlic, a couple bay leaves and often a chile of some sort. And salt. DO NOT FORGET THE SALT. You don't want to salt the water as heavily as you would for pasta or green vegetables because the beans soak up a lot more water than the former and will get too salty if you do. I salt my water until it tastes just a tiny bit briny. You want to taste that salt is present, but you don't want the water to taste noticeably salty. 

How to: Place your soaked, rinsed beans in a large heavy-bottomed stock pot or Dutch oven. Add enough water so that the beans are covered by 2-3 inches. Salt the water as instructed above. Add lots of garlic--at least 4 cloves. I usually use 6 to 8. No need to chop them, just smash them with the side of a large knife, remove the skins and toss them in. Add a nice glug of olive oil, 2 bay leaves and a dried chile if you want to. I like árbol chiles. 

Variations: Use more garlic or less. If you are making Mexican beans, you can sub avocado leaves for the bay and add a cinnamon stick and a smokier chile (this is especially good with black beans). Or you can add a bundle of cilantro stems along with the bay, garlic and chile. If you want Greek flavors, sub in a few stems of dried oregano. For French flavors, use thyme or a bouquet garni. For Italian flavors, rosemary. (If you're using fresh herbs, I recommend tying them in cheesecloth, so they don't disintegrate into little black flecks in your beans.) Add large strips of orange or lemon zest cut with a vegetable peeler. The options are almost limitless.

Image: Olaiya Land

5. Cook your beans gently.  Beans cooked at a rolling boil, bounce around which breaks their skins causing them to get mushy. To get whole, tender beans, cook them at a simmer.

How to: Bring your beans and seasoned water to a boil over high heat, reduce the heat to medium-low. Skim any foam that forms on the surface of the water and discard. Cover and cook until the beans are done, adjusting the heat to keep the water at a bare, bare simmer. 

6. Use a pressure cooker (optional). My mother-in-law gave me this pressure cooker several Christmases ago and I LOVE it. I'm thinking an Instant Pot would work just as well if you've got one of those. Pressure cooking makes the very best beans in my opinion. The only caveat is that the cook times listed in the manual are often for commercial beans and are too long for heirloom beans which are generally fresher and cook more quickly. When I'm trying a new bean I haven't cooked before, I take 2-3 minutes off the listed cook time. If the beans aren't done, I just put the pot back on the stove and finish the beans without the lid. 

7. Cook your beans longer than you think.  This one is counter intuitive since we don't want our beans to be mushy. But beans will firm up a little bit as they sit. So I always cook my beans just a bit past the firmness I'm looking for. The key is to LET YOUR BEANS COOL IN THEIR COOKING WATER. If you turn them into a colander, they will smash each other and all your careful bean-cooking effort will be wasted. 

How to: Once your beans are just slightly past the doneness you want, slide the whole pot to a burner that's not in use or a cooling rack and let the beans cool to room temperature before you spoon or ladle them to storage containers (never pour). If you need them sooner, use a slotted spoon to carefully lift them out of their cooking water. 

8. Store them properly. Store your beans in a covered container in the fridge. Beans keep longer if you store them in their cooking water. I find they keep up to a week that way. You can also freeze them. Place them in a freezer-proof container, cover them with their cooking water and be sure to leave headspace at the top of the jar so the liquid can expand as it freezes. Thaw in the fridge overnight. And hold onto that cooking water! It's like gold in the kitchen. You can freeze it and use it as you would vegetable or chicken stock. It's super flavorful and it's basically free.

9. Eat your delicious beans.  In case you need some ideas for what to do with your delicious home cooked beans, here are some recipes from the blog:

huevos rancheros with black beans and salsa verde
roast leg of lamb with cilantro-pistachio pesto and white bean puree
smoky tomato broth with masa dumplings and black beans
lemony parsnip and white bean soup

 

Feel free to reach out in the comments below if you have any questions or tips to add to this list!


orange-pistachio semolina cake

orange pistachio semolina cake || Image: Olaiya Land
orange pistachio semolina cake || Image: Olaiya Land

Hello lovely people,

I’m back in Seattle after seven glorious weeks in Europe. And by glorious I mean crazy chaotic and jam-packed with work! I think I might be constitutionally incapable of being realistic about my own limitations. If a project sounds fun/interesting/novel/challenging, I feel compelled to say yes. Sleep and sanity be damned.

I’m not complaining. I got to discover beautiful Bordeaux. And collaborate with talented artists. And people-watch in Paris. And eat amazing food from my favorite chefs. And see friends. And make new ones. And drink a little too much deliciously funky French champagne. 

orange pistachio semolina cake || Image: Olaiya Land

But I landed in Seattle sort of flattened from all those weeks of living out of a suitcase and navigating the stress of travel abroad. (Not once, but twice, restaurants I had booked for my retreat guests lost our reservation. One for 12 people on a Saturday night during Paris fashion week!) 

So since I got home, I’ve tried to be extra kind to myself. I’ve been making space for ample amounts of sleep. (I actually just woke up from a long Friday afternoon nap, which is unheard of for me.) Plenty of water and nourishing food. Runs through the fall foliage. Lots of laughter and connection with friends and family. And just generally more pleasure. You know--all those things we know we should be doing but don’t.

orange pistachio semolina cake || Image: Olaiya Land

I have a mountain of images from my trip to sift through and I can’t wait to share them with you! But as part of taking my foot off the gas for a moment, I decided to opt for something a little easier this week. This superb cake was left over from a cooking class I taught at Book Larder. It wasn’t really on my agenda to shoot it and put it up on the blog. But then I woke up the day after my class and realized I had a delicious, fully-baked cake in my possession and that it would be pretty easy-peasy to shoot and share it.

Now don’t go thinking I’d throw any old junk up here on the blog; this cake is ridiculously good. I hadn’t made it in a couple of years and had forgotten how truly fantastic it is. When I cut myself a slice in class, topped it with a mound of delicately floral orange blossom whipped cream and took a bite, I was momentarily transported.

orange pistachio semolina cake || Image: Olaiya Land

In line with this week’s theme of keeping things easy, this cake comes together with very little fuss. No egg whites to whip up. No need to remember to bring your ingredients to room temperature. You don’t even need a mixer. So if you also want to be extra nice to yourself this weekend, this cake is for you!

I’ll be back soon to share new work from my Paris and Portugal trips with you. In the meantime, I’ll be spending my weekend cooking, listening to records, watching the rain come down, and hopefully fitting in a nap or two.


Orange-Pistachio Semolina Cake

  • 2 cups sugar, divided
  • 1/2 cup water
  • 1 cinnamon stick
  • Kosher salt
  • 3 tablespoons freshly-squeezed orange juice (zest the orange before juicing and reserve zest)
  • 3/4 cup shelled pistachios
  • 1 cup sugar
  • 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
  • 1 1/4 teaspoon baking powder
  • 2 cups fine semolina
  • 1 1/4 cup whole milk
  • 1/2 cup (8 tablespoons) butter

To serve

  • 1 recipe Orange Blossom Whipped Cream (below)

  • ¼ cup roughly chopped pistachios

 

*Note: This cake is better the next day, so make it in advance if you have time. Leave it covered out of the refrigerator overnight. 

orange pistachio semolina cake || Image: Olaiya Land

Preheat the oven to 350F. In a small saucepan, combine 1 cup of the sugar, water, cinnamon stick and a small pinch of salt. Bring to a simmer over medium heat and cook at a bare simmer, stirring occasionally, until the sugar has dissolved and the syrup has thickened slightly, 5-6 minutes minutes. Remove from the heat, stir in the orange juice. Set aside to cool until the cake is done.

Butter an  8” x 8” square or 9” round cake pan. 

Combine the pistachios and sugar in a blender or food processor. Process into a fine powder. Sift the pistachio sugar, flour, baking powder, 1/4 teaspoon salt and semolina into a large bowl. (The pistachios won't fit through a fine-mesh sieve, so if you don't have a medium-mesh sieve, use a fork or whisk to aerate your ingredients and remove lumps.) Add 1 teaspoon of the reserved orange zest and whisk to combine. Use your fingers to break up any remaining lumps.

Melt the butter in a small saucepan then transfer to a medium bowl. Heat the milk in the same pan over medium-low heat until it feels warm to the touch. Add to the bowl with the butter and whisk to combine. Add the milk and butter to the semolina mixture and stir to combine, making sure there are no pockets of dry semolina at the bottom of the bowl. 

Pour the batter (it will be thick) into the prepared baking dish. Bake for 40-45 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. 
 
When the cake is done, remove the cinnamon stick from the syrup. Pour the cooled syrup over the hot cake. Let the cake sit until the liquid has been fully absorbed and the cake has cooled to room temperature. Cut the cake into roughly 3-inch squares or diamonds. Top slices with Orange Blossom Whipped Cream and sprinkle with chopped pistachios before serving. 

Makes 8-10 servings.


Orange Blossom Whipped Cream 

  • 1 cup cold heavy cream

  • 2 teaspoons sugar (preferably superfine), or to taste

  • 1-2 tablespoon orange blossom water

 

Place the cream, sugar and 1 tablespoon of the orange blossom water into the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the whisk attachment and beat on medium-high speed until the sugar has mostly dissolved. (You can also whip the cream with a hand blender or by hand with a whisk.) Taste and add more orange blossom water and/or sugar if desired. Beat until soft peaks form and serve.

Makes about 2 cups.

orange pistachio semolina cake || Image: Olaiya Land

double-ginger blackberry plum pie

Image: Olaiya Land

Pie is a surprisingly divisive topic. I’ve seen perfectly sane bakers on the verge of a fist fight over whether the best crusts are made with butter or lard. I’ve heard pastry chefs talk mountains of trash over other chefs’ under-baked or over-browned pies. I’ve seen people almost in tears because of a soupy filling, ready to throw in the towel and give up pie-making forever.

I get it. Pie is not the easiest baked good to master. The different water and pectin content of fruit makes the filling tricky. A golden, flaky crust takes patience and attention to detail. I understand why so many of you are intimidated to bake up a pie of your own. 

But you shouldn’t be.

Image: Olaiya Land

I’m not going to go so far as to say that pie is easy. There are about a dozen steps for baking a lovely one. To do it right takes the greater part of a morning or afternoon. But a bubbling-hot pie, fresh from the oven is a thing of beauty. And a still warm slice with a scoop of vanilla ice cream is one of life’s great pleasures. 

In this respect, pie is like a lot of other great experiences. It’s daunting and takes work and sometimes feels unattainable. Like actually understanding wine. Or finally buying a pair of jeans that make your ass look amazing. Or finding that perfect someone to grow old and grey with. 

Image: Olaiya Land

Or venturing to a glorious city like Paris on your own--which is what I’m currently doing. Despite the fact that this is my favorite city in the world, and that I’ve been here more times than I can count, and that I actually enjoy being alone, I feel out of sorts and awkward. I woke up feeling like this whole trip was a bad idea and that I’d be much happier at home in my own bed. 

Luckily, I’ve had these feelings of homesickness and insecurity often enough to know that they aren’t real. They’re just my mind trying to trick me into playing it safe. 

Life, however, is way too short for always playing it safe. There are too many inspiring people to meet and too many new places to discover. And too many pies to bake.

Image: Olaiya Land

So I’m here to remind you that if you think there’s something spectacular on the other side of your dreams, it’s always worth the discomfort it takes to get there. Even if the thing or person (or pie) turns out not to be as life-changing as you’d hoped, the journey will leave you that much richer.

Image: Olaiya Land

Double-Ginger Blackberry Plum Pie

  • 1 recipe flaky pie dough (see below)
  • 2 lbs firm-ripe plums (I used Italian prune plums, but any mix of plums will work)
  • 2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice
  • 2 ½ tablespoons cornstarch, divided
  • 9 tablespoons sugar, divided
  • ½ teaspoon ground ginger
  • 1½ oz. (1/4 cup) candied ginger
  • Pinch salt
  • 8 oz blackberries (about 2 cups)

Flaky Pie Dough

  • 1 lb + 2 oz (4 cups) all-purpose flour

  • 2 tablespoons sugar

  • 1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt

  • 8 oz (2 sticks) butter, cut into 1/2-inch pieces and chilled

  • 5 oz (1/2 cup + 2 tablespoons) lard, cut into 1/2-inch pieces and chilled

  • 2 teaspoons apple cider vinegar

  • 3/4 cup cold water

  • 1 whole egg beaten with 1 tablespoon water (or 3 tablespoons cream or milk), to glaze

  • 1-2 tablespoons turbinado, demerara or sanding sugar (regular old sugar will work, too)

 

*Notes: I straddle the Great Pie Crust Debate by using both butter and lard in my crust. The butter adds flavor, but also extra flakiness as the water in the butter is transformed to steam in the oven and creates little pockets throughout the dough. The lard creates flakes as well, adds tenderness and, due to its higher melting point, makes the dough easier to work with. I render my own leaf lard or buy it from Bob's Quality Meats or Rain Shadow Meats here in Seattle. If you don’t want to use lard, I recommend an all-butter crust (just sub butter for the lard in this recipe)--it will be delicious and only a bit harder to work with. If you work quickly and your ingredients are super cold before you begin, you shouldn't even notice any difference.

- Freezing your lard before you begin will make it easier to cut into pieces.

- Some varieties of plums can release a lot of juice once you sprinkle sugar on them. If your plums give off a lot of liquid, you’ll need to pour most of it off before baking to avoid a soggy crust and loose filling.

- If you manage to save some pie for later, don’t refrigerate it! This ruins the beautiful, flaky texture of the crust. Just tuck it under a dish towel and leave on the counter overnight.  

Image: Olaiya Land

Before you begin, make sure your butter, lard and cold water have been in the refrigerator for at least 30 minutes. If the weather is warm or your kitchen tends to be toasty, chill your flour as well.

In a large bowl, mix together the flour, sugar and salt. Separate the pieces of chilled butter and toss them in the flour mixture to coat. Do the same with the lard. When all the pieces of fat have been coated in flour, pick up a piece of butter or lard between your thumb and first two fingers. Slide your thumb over the butter or lard while pressing down on it in order to form a long, thin strip. Drop this strip back into the bowl so it becomes coated with flour. Continue until all the pieces of butter and lard have been flattened. Some of the flakes will break and the dough will take on a slightly crumbly or sandy appearance, which is just fine. Place the bowl in the freezer for 5-10 minutes to re-chill the fat.

Image: Olaiya Land

Drizzle the cold water and vinegar onto the chilled flour and fat mixture, tossing constantly with a flexible silicone or rubber spatula or a large spoon. Continue adding water until the mixture is moist enough to form a dough when you pinch it together. If you have used ¾ cup of water and the dough seems dry, give it a few more turns with your spatula or spoon and then pinch off a golf ball sized piece of dough. Squeeze it and see if it wants to come together into a dough.  If it is too crumbly and won’t form a dough, add a bit more water, a couple teaspoons at a time, until the mixture forms a dough when you pinch it together.

Turn out the dough (it will be shaggy) onto a large work surface and gather it together into a ball. Do not knead it as this will toughen the dough. Divide it in half with a bench scraper or knife. Form each half into a ball and then flatten each ball into a disk about 3/4-inch thick. Wrap each disk in plastic wrap or parchemnt and chill for at least an hour before rolling. (The dough can be refrigerated for up to 2 days, or placed in a ziploc bag and frozen for up to 2 months.  If frozen, thaw the dough in the refrigerator overnight and soften slightly at room temperature before rolling out.)

Image: Olaiya Land

Roll out one disk of dough to roughly 1/4-inch thickness. Place the dough into a pie plate. Lift and press it into the edges of the plate.  Do not stretch the dough into the edges as this will make your crust shrink as it bakes. Trim and crimp the edges of your crust and place the pan in the freezer for at least 15 minutes.

On a lightly floured work surface, roll out the other disk of dough to roughly 1/4-inch thickness.  Cut out a circle roughly 1 inch larger than the top diameter of your pie plate.  For a latticed pie, cut this circle into wide strips.  Place the strips on a plate and refrigerate while you make the filling.

Image: Olaiya Land

When you are ready to bake the pie, arrange a rack in the middle of the oven and preheat it to 425°F.  

Cut the plums into quarters if they're large or halves if they're small, discarding the pits. Place the plums in a large mixing bowl and toss gently with the lemon juice and ½ cup of the sugar. Set aside to rest for 20-30 minutes. Pour off the juice from the plums, discarding all of it except for ½ cup. Toss the plums (and ½ cup juice) with two tablespoons of the cornstarch, the candied and dried ginger and a pinch of salt. 

Place the blackberries in a medium mixing bowl and toss with the remaining 1 ½ teaspoons of the cornstarch and 1 tablespoon of sugar. 

To fill the pie crust, pour half of the plum mixture onto your well-chilled or frozen bottom crust. Arrange half of the blackberries over the plums. Top with the rest of the plum mixture and then the rest of the blackberries. Place the dough strips from the refrigerator on top of the berries, weaving them into a lattice pattern. Trim the edges to overhang by ¾ inch. Fold the top edges of the lattice over the bottom crust, tuck the edges under and crimp. Place the filled and topped pie back in the freezer to chill for 15 minutes. 

(I know, I know. There’s a lot of chilling and freezing and waiting around. But taking the time to par-freeze your pie will help keep your crust from slumping in the oven.)

Brush the top crust with the egg wash (or cream or milk) and then sprinkle with the sugar. Place the pie on a sheet pan and bake until the crust is lightly browned, about 30 minutes. Reduce the oven temperature to 350°F and continue baking until the crust is dark golden brown, about 45-60 minutes longer.  I like my crust deeply caramelized.

Remove the pie from the oven and allow it to cool before serving. (The longer you let it cool, the easier it will be to slice.)

Serves 6-8.

Image: Olaiya Land