In which Stepper pays homage to Pensievity and the Black Bean

This post began as a response to this post from former Misplaced American, now Pensievity.

I started in on her comments section, and realized I was writing a novel. And that this was too good - had to be shared. So here you go. Spreadin' the love.

of beans.

At our house, we love us some beans.

In her post, Becky explains how to make beans. I don't mean a can-o-squeaky green beans, or even S&W black beans. No.

She tells you how to make beans from scratch. Brazilian style.

I COULD JUST GLOMP HER!

My Mr. served in Guatemala.
They know how to do Beans there, too. And my Mr. fell in love with genuine, rich, mm-mmmmm tender and succulent beans. Black.

We like 'em with fried plantains, eggs, and a soft cheese that I can't pronounce. AUTHENTIC!


Anyway - he's been hinting about me learning to do beans for AGES (okay, we've been married for almost 3 years, but you know. When it's a forever thing, who's counting?) and when we had honest-to-goodness Guatemalans in our ward, he begged me to go learn the secret from the Mrs.

They moved before I could attack.

Bill even tried to cook a pot of beans himself. Before that, I didn't know you could destroy beans. I thought it was like pasta. You can get 'em too soft, or not soft enough, but it still ends up as pasta.

No.

Not beans.

Beans require finesse.

Beans require confidence and mastery - and, apparently, garlic.

Thanks to Becky - who lived in Brazil for years and so is basically a native - I can give beans a try with my own stiff-chinned semblance of culinary confidence.

Step 1: purchase pressure cooker.

cheap.





If you, too, loves beans (and are clueless as to how to make them) as I do (and am) check out Becky's post over here and achieve this salty nirvana.

And yes. Salty nirvana will be achieved.