Category: Food
Teaching Old Bread New Tricks
Philosophers have long posited that it’s our capacity for abstract thought, creativity, and language that makes us human, but I’d like to argue that it’s our capacity to make bread. Yes, bread; the very bedrock of society, the foundation of nearly all cultures, found globally in every shape, size, color, and flavor imaginable, is the true demarcation between man and beast. Archaeological evidence from over 30,000 years ago, places flour, believed to have been made into unleavened flatbread, on our timeline.
A Bevvy of Breads
That’s all to say, bread is very important. And, for all its permutations, bread is still evolving, even after emerging from the oven. Leftover, excess, or “stale” bread, to those less resourceful, is simply primed for its next permutation. Before we consider recipes, let’s not forget the basics. There’s no excuse for tossing a day-old loaf when you could transform it into:
- Breadcrumbs
- Croutons
- Crackers
- Soup thickener
The Upper Crust
Basic culinary know-how and rudimentary techniques honor bread’s enduring utility. For the more industrious, there’s no such thing as too much bread. Embrace your own humanity, and embrace bread. Here are a few of my favorite suggestions for reviving old loaves, and more.
Address to a Vegan Haggis
If there can only be one woefully misunderstood and unfairly vilified dish in our collective culinary canon, my vote would go to haggis. Yes, I’m prepared to defend the savory Scottish pudding that takes all forms of organ meat stuffed inside of a sheep’s bladder or stomach. Like any good controversy, there’s much more to it than flashy headlines, and far greater nuance than just excess organs and entrails.
Criminally Misconstrued
As of 1971, it is in fact illegal to import or produce traditional haggis in the US. Concerns stemmed from the use of sheep’s lungs, which were deemed particularly susceptible to contamination, which could in turn spread disease. While this ban still stands, more contemporary versions of haggis, made without the offending offal, are permitted. The easiest way to bypass the restriction is to simply leave the entrails in the past.
A Short History of Haggis
To fully appreciate this medieval meal of subsistence, it’s important to understand how it came to be. Sheep outnumber the human population in Scotland, making them the obvious fodder for all sorts of traditional dishes. Waste not, want not; everything remotely edible would be chopped up and heavily seasoned to detract from the more gamey flavors, heavily salted to prevent spoilage, and stuffed into some sort of casing for easy transportation. Though sausage-like in construction, it has more in common with savory English pudding in practice. The stomach or bladder would be cut open and emptied after cooking and summarily discarded. So much for all that shock value.
Somewhere along the line, shepherds began to settle more into farming, and stretching their meat with grains. Oatmeal, specifically Scotch oats or porridge oats, became an equally iconic cultural touchstone, finding its way into this amalgamation. The earliest written record from 1430 CE lists sheep’s heart, liver, lungs, oatmeal, onion, suet, and stock as the key ingredients.
Burn’s Night: Address to a Haggis
Haggis is redeemed by the annual tradition of Burn’s Night, January 25th, marking the birthday of Scotland’s national poet, Robert “Rabbie” Burns. Mr. Burns immortalized haggis in his 1787 poem Address to a Haggis, a florid, passionate ode that elevates the humble pudding to near-mythic status. In it, he celebrates not only the hearty dish itself but the rugged self-reliance of Scottish culture. So exuberant and impassioned were his words that generations have since treated the poem as both sacred text and dinner entertainment.
A Modern Answer to an Ancient Problem
Like any other recipe that’s been around for a few centuries, endless variations have sprouted from that original seed of inspiration, and vegetarian haggis is no stranger in Caledonia. By the mid–20th century, more Scots were living in cities, fewer were butchering their own livestock, and a growing number of people were deciding, out of ethics, health, or pure squeamishness, that eating minced organs packed into a stomach wasn’t quite for them.
The earliest meatless versions began appearing in the 1960s and 70s, coinciding with the rise of the modern vegetarian movement in the UK. A wholesome amalgamation of oats, legumes, root vegetables, and aggressive seasoning, it was first commercially produced in 1984, and now makes up for 25% – 40% of all haggis sales.
Makar’s Mash Bar – Vegan Haggis Interior
Bringing Haggis Back Home
When I visited Scotland last year, the single best thing I ate was the vegan haggis at Makar’s Mash Bar. Incredibly rich, tender yet toothsome, the combination of chestnuts, seeds, lentils, and oats put it over the top. Combined with the traditional pairing of neeps and tatties (rutabaga and potatoes), plus decadent whisky cream sauce, I was hooked on haggis from the first bite. Since then, I’ve been dreaming of recreating that experience and finally, the time has come.
Skipping the questionable casing entirely, since it would only be scrapped anyway, I baked my haggis in ramekins for easier prep and serving alike. Make no mistake though, this is not a quick fix meal. Your best bet is to make the main in advance, and plan to reheat when you’re ready to serve. It’s an entree worthy of a celebration, and not just Burn’s Night; my original batch went to the Thanksgiving feast, and I can see this being right at home at a Christmas dinner or Hanukkah party, too.
Haggis for the Whole Herd
Warm, peppery, a little earthy, mushrooms lay down a savory foundation, all umami and bass, while chestnuts chime in with mellow sweetness. Beans, lentils, and steel-cut oats create the hearty core of the dish, punctuated by the toothsome bite of roughly chopped seeds. What truly ties everything together, though, is the seasoning. Warm, herbaceous, complex, tart, tangy; it’s a lot to take in at once, but still never too much.
I’ve plated it two ways, and I’m sure there are many more possible. You could even leave your haggis right inside the ramekin and call it a night. In a nod to the original inspiration, I made a little tower from my neeps and tatties, emulating fine dining flair with a bit of homemade rusticity. Of course, I do much prefer the simpler approach, spooning generous portions of each side onto the plate before drowning it all in whisky cream sauce. Regardless of the arrangement, I feel confident that this take could finally sway those on the fence about haggis. After all, it did for me.
Wordless Wednesday: Forking Delicious
Bistro Vonish – Spicy Carrot Mac and Cheese
BOA Steakhouse – Beyond Steak Frites
Bodhi Viet Vegans – Sticky Rice (Xoi Thap Cam)
Community Vegan – Mac and Cheese
Mom’s Special Cooking – Tofu Pad Thai
Nori – Belgian Chocolate Cake
TarryTown Cafe – Chocolate Cake
Cran You Dig It?
Cranberry beans are a confounding lot. Some of them fulfill their titled promise as gleaming crimson, magenta, and maroon-speckled ovoids, bearing a rough resemblance to the fruits of their namesake. Most, however, deviate from that path, appearing in spotty shades of tan, off-white, and even black.
As one may guess, with such a diverse family tree, this worldly bush bean is hard to sum up in a concise little bio. Better known to the Italians as borlotti beans and to Colombians as cargamanto beans, this American native is one worth knowing in any language.
The Un-cranny Origins of Cranberry Beans
Said to have originated in South and Central America, the earliest written records come from Spanish explorers in the 15th century, transporting their culinary discoveries to Europe. Gardeners can’t even agree if these Phaseolus vulgaris are bush beans, pole beans, both, or neither. Regardless, their most striking characteristic isn’t the actual edible bean, but the vibrantly streaked pink and red pods, only seen if you’re so fortunate to find them fresh. Start searching your local farmers markets from late summer through early fall for a real savory treat. Shelling them is a meditative joy, and their flavor is unmatched.
What Do Cranberry Beans Taste Like?
Dried cranberry beans, of course, are most common and available all year round. Frequently compared to (and sadly substituted with) pinto beans, it’s a grave disservice to sell them so far short. Though they’re both about the same size, shape, and (sometimes) color, pinto beans will puree themselves if you look at them too hard. Cranberry beans stand firm, without being mealy, bearing a toothsome yet creamy, meaty texture that makes it a popular addition to soups and stews. Their mildly nutty, almost chestnut-like flavor plays well with others, whether kept very lightly seasoned or paired with more potent players.
Traditional Dishes Around the World
Given their extensive history spanning many countries, cranberry beans are associated with a number of beloved traditional dishes.
- Italy: Pasta e Fagioli & Minestrone
In Italian kitchens, cranberry beans are often the star of pasta e fagioli, a rustic soup of beans and pasta, simmered with garlic, rosemary, and olive oil. They also frequently make an appearance in minestrone, adding body and protein to the vegetable-rich broth. - Portugal: Feijão à Portuguesa
This traditional Portuguese dish features cranberry beans stewed with tomatoes, onions, garlic, and sometimes chouriço (smoked sausage). It’s served with rice or crusty bread. - Brazil: Feijão Tropeiro
Though typically made with black beans, regional variations use cranberry beans sautéed with cassava flour, greens, and spices. It’s a dish born from the resourcefulness of traveling merchants and remains a comfort food classic. - United States: Three Sisters
Native Americans passed on their wisdom of bringing together the essential combination of corn, beans, and squash. The cranberry bean helps fix nitrogen and add nutrients that replenish the soil, making it a beneficial addition for both the planet and the planters.
In today’s global kitchen, the sky’s the limit. They’re fantastic tossed into salads, blended into veggie burgers, made into meatless loaves and balls, and pureed as creamy bean dip.
How To Cook Cranberry Beans
Like any larger legume, cranberry beans can benefit from an overnight soak. They’ll cook faster when they hit the heat and be more digestible in the long run. Drain the soaking water and cook in six to eight times as much fresh water by volume.
- Stove top: Over medium heat, bring to a boil. Reduce to a simmer and cover. Cook for about 1 hour, adding more water if too much evaporates; they should always remain submerged.
- Pressure cooker: Cook on high pressure for 20 minutes, then allow for a natural release.
- Slow cooker: Add enough water to cover the beans by at least an inch, cover, and cook on low for 10 – 12 hours.
Drain well and enjoy hot, or let cool and store in an airtight container in the fridge for up to 10 days.
Fresh cranberry beans are a whole different ball park. Once shelled, they only need to be simmered with enough water to barely cover for about 10 minutes. Then, you can sauté them with garlic, toss them into salads, and so much more.
Nutrition in Every Nook and Cranny
Beans are the undisputed nutritional champions of the world, bearing volumes of affordable plant protein and fiber in every serving. Cranberry beans are no different, with the added benefit of being notably high in B-vitamins, folate, zinc, manganese copper, calcium, and potassium. Especially high in antioxidants thanks to their trademark coloring, they’re a smart choice for overall health and well being.
When all is said and done, cranberry beans have nothing to do with their fruity namesake. They don’t look like cranberries. They don’t taste like cranberries. They don’t bounce or float like cranberries. The only explanation for their name is that some person with some misappropriated authority had a far more imaginative interpretation of the legume than warranted. The only parallel that can be drawn is that they’re sort of, sometimes, vaguely, red.
Thankfully, none of that matters once you’ve tasted them. Whatever the name, these heirloom beans are at the top of their class. Names may mislead, colors may fade, but such singular texture and unmistakable flavor endures through generations for a reason.
Top Tier Tiramisu
Tiramisu, the iconic Italian “pick me up,” isn’t entirely as it seems. Although some will cite texts from the 18th and 19th centuries that reference desserts with similar components, none are the proper, full-featured tiramisu as we know it. That honor is bestowed on two rival bakeries that claim to be the first; the true origin being lost to history, though neither existed before the 1950s, at the earliest.
The fact of the matter is, the tiramisu is a wholly modern creation, every bit as trendy and changeable as it is iconic. Ladyfingers dunked in spiked espresso syrup are generally agreed to be the traditional base, but plenty of equally competent offerings simply use slabs of soaked cake. Naturally, if we assemble from that starting line, cupcakes are just one evolutionary step away.
Tiramisu cupcakes, far from a groundbreaking twist, are simply another version of this crowd pleasing dessert, disassembled and then rebuilt in a different way. I promise this is less like rickety IKEA furniture and more like a like an upcycled version of a vintage find. Perfectly portioned for everyone to help themselves, they’re the ideal guests to invite to a party. That was the real inspiration here, fulfilling the mandatory cake requirement for my birthday without making a big fuss of it.
Using cream cheese in the frosting evokes creamy mascarpone, as seen in the original filling, while making it a much more stable topping for sitting out, unrefrigerated, until party goers are ready to dig in. Existing in that rare middle ground of sweet but not sugary, rich but not heavy, even I was honestly impressed by how well they turned out.
I’m not one to brag, so it’s really saying something that I might want to make these for my birthday every year. There’s an ease to them that feels like a gift in itself, effortless to whip up, painless to transport, and quick to disappear. For all the mythology and debate surrounding tiramisu’s origins, its true legacy might simply be adaptability because in cupcake form, it fits right into contemporary traditions with surprising grace.