Ham & Beans or Ham & Bean Soup

A marriage is a culinary union. I've even proposed that wedding vows acknowledged this in order to help preserve the marriage when taste buds clash. Sometimes that union offers a stark contrast, like the vegetarian Jew who marries the Southern Bubba. However, often often the subtle differences stir up minor arguments over questions like: How many beans go into a pot of chili? What bourbon should take center stage in the liquor cabinet? Do raisins belong on cookies? What is the ideal ratio for the perfect margarita?


In our household culinary harmony usually exists, but the occasional disagreement surfaces.

Exhibit A:

Early in our marriage, I casually mentioned that I was hungry for ham and beans. Since my wife is a kind soul, she fixed me ham and beans for supper. However, when she set the bowl in front of me, I could see my disappointed reflection in the broth.

"What is this?" I asked.

"Ham and Bean soup," replied my wife.

I trolled my spoon through the bowl, attempting to find a bean, "Where are the beans?"

"I let the soup boil too long and they disintegrated," she said.

"Oh," I said.

Then I politely explained my disappointment. I told her about the ham and beans of my youth, a dish that was more a stew than a soup. My ham and beans consisted of more beans than broth and was a hearty affair. Spending my evening looking for a single bean in a bowl of ham and bean soup was more of a dainty affair. I prefer hearty.

Since that moment, I've learned to do dainty, and I enjoy my wife's ham and bean soup. It's something I look forward to this time of year. I'm OK waving the white flag with this culinary battle, but I refuse to give up any ground when it comes to boiled summer sausage.

Ham and Bean Soup

Ingredients

• 1 cup dry 15 navy or Great Northern beans, rinsed (If you want to use canned beans, that would be fine.)
• 1 to 1 1/2 cups chopped cooked ham
• 1 large onion, chopped
• 1 cup sliced celery
• 1 teaspoon dried thyme 1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper
• 1 can of diced tomatoes
  
• 4 cups water
• 1 bay leaf

1. Rinse beans. In a 4-quart Dutch oven combine beans and 4 cups water. Bring to boiling; reduce heat. Simmer, uncovered, for 2 minutes. Remove from heat. Cover and let stand for 1 hour. (Or, place beans in water in Dutch oven. Cover and let soak in a cool place for 6 to 8 hours or overnight.) Drain and rinse beans; set aside.

2. Add beans, thyme, salt, pepper, bay leaf, celery, onions, tomatoes, and 4 cups fresh water. Bring to boiling; reduce heat. Simmer, covered, for 1 to 1-1/2 hours or until beans are tender. Discard bones and bay leaf. Slightly mash beans in saucepan (I, however, would never mash my beans.)

3. Stir in chopped meat; heat through. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

pass the Beano,
muddy

Chuck Wagon Chow

If you're a regular reader of The Greasy Skillet, you know that I'm subject to whimsy. In fact, The Whimsical Skillet might be a more apt name for my blog. I try to travel the road of practicality, but it never works out. With the crack of a book, a chance conversation, the melody of song, or idle time to daydream, whimsy grabs the wheel and I veer into the ditch. Once again, I'm here to confess deviant thoughts that flutter around in my head:

Confession #1:

I often dream of being a chuck wagon cook for a big ranch. This is a product of my love of cooking, food, history, and the geography of the American West. It's a way to connect with the mythology and romanticism of the West without getting in the saddle - a place I'd rather not be. This summer I went on a ten-hour horseback ride over the Continental Divide, and the ordeal traumatized me and soured me on the notion of ever getting on a horse again. If I can ever muster the courage, I'll blog about this experience.

Confession #2:


I've wrangled up a small herd of cookbooks about the art of chuck wagon and cowboy cooking. I have so many books that I have to store some in boxes in the basement.

Confession #3:

If I had more storage space, I would collect cast iron cookware.

Confession #4:

I sometimes contemplate building a fire in my backyard, so I can cook like a cowboy. I control such urges because folk frown upon fires within the city limits. I've found that most city folk feel the same way about discharging firearms, allowing dogs to roam unleashed, urinating outdoors, and public drunkenness. I don't understand all the fuss.

If I did build a fire in my backyard, I would cook this:

Chuck Wagon Chow
From The All Beef Cookbook: Favorite Recipes from the American National CowBelles.

I learned this little recipe from my dear wife. For the record, she opposes any of the following within the city limits: discharging firearms, allowing dogs to roam unleashed, urinating outdoors, Christmas decorations before December 1st, chicken coops, and public drunkenness.

The recipe can be prepared with ease, and it's sure to satisfy cowpokes, cowhands, cowboys, and cowtippers.

Ingredients:

• 1-pound of beef cut into 3/4-inch cubes (I usually just use beef stew meat, sirloin, or chuck)
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 2 tablespoons chili powder
• 1/4 teaspoon pepper
• 1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
• 2 tablespoon cooking oil
• 1 onion, chopped
• 1 green bell pepper, chopped
• 1 can kidney beans, with liquid (We usually use Ranch Beans because my wife despises kidney beans. I, on the other hand, hate to see a good bean maligned. Kidney beans need love too.)
• 1 can whole-kernel corn, with liquid
  

Preparation:

1. Season the meat with salt, chili powder, pepper, and garlic powder.
2. Using a skillet or dutch over, brown the meat over medium-high heat. Remove the meat.
   
3. Add onion and green pepper. Saute until soft.
   
4. Add meat, beans, and corn.
   
5. Simmer for 45 minutes. I prefer to prepare this the day before I plan on serving. The meat becomes more tender with two rounds of braising.

Sometimes the ditch is more interesting than the road,
muddywaters

Broccoli Cheese Soup

My afternoons lounging in my hammock are coming to an end. Now falling leaves are taking my place, but you don't need me to tell you that fall is here. What you need is a nice soup to complement the fall weather. My friend, what you need is a simple, quick soup, so you can use the time saved to enjoy the evening: Snuggle up with a quilt and your favorite book. Spend the evening watching a favorite movie. Or with the time you're saving, bake an apple crisp for dessert.

I offer you a broccoli cheese soup. This isn't a fancy soup. Some might frown on a soup that involves dumping a few cans in a pot and dicing up a brick of Velveeta, but something can be said for convenience. This recipe from my Aunt Linda is the first soup I ever learned to make.

Broccoli Cheese Soup

Ingredients:

• 4 tablespoons of butter.
• 3-4 carrots shredded
• 3-4 ribs of celery diced
• a 16 oz. bag of frozen chopped broccoli. I've also used a 10 and 12 oz. bag, depending what I find in the store.
• 1 cup of diced onion
• 3 cans of chicken broth
• 3 cans of cream of potato soup
• 1 lb. of Velveeta diced
• 8 ounces of sour cream
• salt and pepper to taste

Preparation:

1. Melt the butter in a large pot. Saute the celery, carrots, onion, and broccoli for 10-15 minutes.
2. Pour in the chicken broth and cream of potato soup.
3. Allow the soup to simmer for 30 minutes.
4. Add the Velveeta and stir until it's melted.
5. Right before serving add the sour cream and stir until it's blended with the soup.
   
6. Serve the soup with some nice crusty bread or this flat bread picture.
   

Take care,
muddywaters

Chicken Gumbo or The Tao of Roux

My wife washes away the stress of the day with a bubble bath. Some turn to yoga or exercise to relieve stress. Others prefer the ease of a stiff drink or two. I turn to my stove and my cast iron dutch oven. With two simple ingredients - flour and butter - and a wooden spoon, I stir my troubles into a roux.

As the roux deepens from the color of peanut butter color to a rich mahogany, the weight of the day evaporates, and I'm prepared to acknowledge all that really matters in this life: a hearty meal and quality time with my family.

Some would say there are better ways to spend 30 minutes than stirring a pot. For those critics, I offer you the wise words of Henry David Thoreau:

"Why should we be in such desperate haste to succeed and in such desperate enterprises? If a man does not keep pace with is companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away."

For those skeptical souls who need concrete evidence, I offer you a chicken gumbo recipe. Although it's a non-traditional gumbo - minus the okra, you'll be converted to believe in the Tao of the Roux.

Chicken Gumbo

Adapted from A Cowboy in the Kitchen by Grady Spears and Robb Walsh

• 5 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 1/3 cup flour
• 1 cup diced red bell pepper
• 1 cup diced green pepper
• 1 1/2 cups diced onion
• 1 stalk celery, diced
• 1 (15-ounce) can diced tomatoes
• 2 1/2 tablespoons of Worcestershire sauce
• 1 tablespoon Tabasco sauce
• 1 tablespoon tomato paste
• 1 bay leaf
• 1 teaspoon dried thyme leaves
• 1 teaspoon dried oregano leaves
• 1/2 teaspoon ground cayenne pepper
• 1/2 teaspoon ground white pepper
• 3 cups chicken stock
• meat from one whole cooked chicken, diced or pulled off the bone (You can use one of those roteissere chickens, but I recommend stewing your own chicken, which yields a rich, flavorful broth)
  
• kosher salt to taste
• freshly ground pepper to taste

1. Use a large, heavy dutch oven. Melt the butter in the dutch oven over medium heat.
2. Stir in the flour, and cook over medium-low heat for about 20 minutes or longer. The roux needs to become a rich brown color. Continually stir it with a wood spoon, so that the roux does not burn. Daydream of magnolia trees, lounging on a front porch, and sippin' your favorite beverage. Or just think peaceful thoughts. Or think nothing at all.
   
3. When the roux reaches the desired color, add the peppers, onion, and celery, sauteing until the vegetables are wilted, about 10 minutes. Savor this step: Place your nose directly above the dutch oven. Close your eyes and inhale deeply. Greet this mingling of scents with an exuberant, "Hallelujah!" Blare The Pine Leaf Boys' Cajun version of "Wild Side of Life" from your stereo, and dance around the kitchen; celebrate this marriage of flavors.
   
4. Add the tomatoes, Worcestershire, Tabasco, tomato paste, bay leaf, thyme, oregano, cayenne, and white pepper. Stir to blend the ingredients.
5. Whisk in the chicken stock, and cook the gumbo over medium heat for 30 minutes.
6. Add the chicken and continue cooking for another 30 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. The gumbo should be fairly thick at serving time.
7. Continue cooking to reduce if necessary.
8. Serve over rice or mashed potatoes. Because I'm a Kansan, I choose potatoes 99 percent of the time.
   

Pass the hot sauce,
muddywaters

P.S. It's worthwhile to visit the Southern Foodways Alliance documentary project The Southern Gumbo Trail.

Goulash

In addition to claiming Julie Andrews as the 5th member of her family, my wife consumed a fair amount of goulash in her formative years. Early in our relationship my wife tried to serve me goulash about 2-3 times a month, but this didn't fly with me because as a I child I developed an aversion to this dish. Marriage - as you well know - is a challenging endeavor, when something as simple as pondering a dinner menu becomes complicated.

Despite my vocal protest and a turned up nose, my wife insisted on serving this comfort food from her childhood. After three years I embraced goulash. Now on the occasional autumn evening when falling temperatures hint at winter, I find myself craving a hearty, steaming bowl of goulash.

The middle America goulash my wife craves as comfort food consists of a mixture of ground beef, canned tomatoes, onions, macaroni, and a hodge-podge of spices. On our trip to Prague, we were able to sample the Eastern European version of goulash, which bore no resemblance to the American version. The Czech goulash we ate consisted of tender chunks of beef bathed in thick, rich paprika and onion broth. It should also be noted that Czech goulash was always served with a dense dumpling to sop up the piquant broth. Washed down with a liter of beer, this dish induces a food coma.

(In the above picture, I strain to loft my beer. Note: It's as big as my head, and I have a ginormous head. I've decided that Czechs eat hearty foods like goulash, so that I have the energy to lift their liters of beer. The average Czech consumes 156.9 liters of beer per year, which leads the world. The U.S. is ranked 13th, with the average American consuming 81.6 liters.)

Once I returned home, I had to replicate this recipe. After reading several recipes, I settled on the following Wolfgang Puck recipe posted on the FoodTV website:



Ingredients:

• 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
• 4 cups onions, thinly sliced
• 1 tablespoon sugar
• 3 garlic cloves, minced
• 1 tablespoon caraway seeds, toasted and ground
• 1 1/2 tablespoons sweet paprika (Use a good paprika; I really like Pride of Szego)
  
• 1 teaspoon spicy paprika (I didn't have any spicy paprika on hand the first few times I made it, so I just substituted sweet paprika)
  
• 1 teaspoon dried marjoram leaves
  
• 1 teaspoon thyme leaves
• 1 bay leaf
• 3 tablespoons tomato paste
• 2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
• 4 cups chicken stock
• 2 1/2 pounds beef stew meat
  
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

Preparation:

Even though this dish possesses a rich flavor, it's a simple dish to prepare. I was surprised that it didn't call for the beef to be browned. Also the goulash is great reheated. As with most stews and chili, the flavor intensifies with time.

1. In a large saute pan, heat the olive oil and saute the onions and sugar until caramelized
2. Add the garlic and caraway seed. Cook for 1 minute.
   
3. Add the sweet and spicy paprika, marjoram, thyme, and bay leaf. Saute another minute, until fragrant.
   
4. Add the tomato paste. Deglaze with the vinegar and the stock and add the pieces of beef shank, salt, and pepper.
   
5. Bring to a boil, then lower to a simmer and cook until very tender, about 1 1/2 hours, stirring occasionally.
6. Taste and adjust seasoning with salt and pepper
7. Serve with dumplings***(See note below).
   

***Typically when I make this, I just whip up the dumpling recipe on the back of the Bisquick box, and drop the pillows of dough into my goulash pot. However for our dinner and a movie, I made Knedliky, a tradition Czech dumpling. I'll share that recipe at a later time.

Take care,
muddywaters