Redberry Hard Seltzer
Buffalo Cauliflower Bites
Cucumber Crunch Salad
Bianca Fiore Pizza
Gluten-Free Margherita Pizza
Margherita Pizza
Shroom-Me Pizza







How can one consider beans as “food for the poor” when they’re rich in so many ways? Rich in history, rich in flavor, rich in nutrition; the only thing that cheapens them is this pervasive stigma. The only reason why Mayocoba beans haven’t blown up as the next big food trend is there’s no marketing budget for beans. Just as well, I say, because they’re more than just a flash in the pan, but an enduring staple that will long outlive TikTok and likely social media itself. They’ve already survived well over 4,000 years of tumultuous climates, both physical and political, and they’re just getting started.

Indigenous to Latin America, Mayocoba beans feature prominently in Mexican and Peruvian culture. Depending on who you ask, they may also go by the names of canary (Canario) beans, yellow beans, or Peruvian (Peruano or Frijol de Peru) beans. Though strongly linked to Peruvian foodways as a reliable source of sustenance for inhabitants of the Andes, where agriculture struggles to thrive and crop yields are relatively poor, the word “Mayocoba” comes from small town in Mexico. The two countries seem to share the legumes, and their heritage, abundantly.
Though this is a bean untroubled by passing fads, it’s not immune to controversy. In 2005, one Larry Proctor of Pod-ners L.L.C. attempted to patent the time-honored Mayocoba, claiming that the bean he called “Enola,” after his wife’s middle name, was a wholly unique specimen. Unsurprisingly and rightly so, this sparked outrage in both the agricultural and cultural communities. Critics argued that the bean, like many other heirloom crops, had long been part of indigenous and local food systems for millennia, and should never be subjected to patenting by any one entity. The idea that a traditional, widely cultivated crop could be claimed by a corporation highlighted an ongoing issue with intellectual property laws and their impact on indigenous farming communities. Fortunately, the patent application was eventually withdrawn, but the controversy raised important questions about who truly owns our food history and who gets to profit from it.

Ranging from pale yellow to off-white, they’re not nearly as vibrant as the bird of their namesake, but shine on the plate all the same. That flaxen hue recedes further when cooked, resulting in a pot of mostly beige beans. Don’t judge a bean by its color though; these unassuming kernels are remarkably buttery and almost sweet, though fairly mild to absorb any seasonings you can throw at them. Their texture is what really makes them special: thin-skinned yet still robust enough to hold their own, Mayocoba beans are soft and creamy all the way through. You won’t get a hint of grit or graininess whether they’re kept whole or pureed.
Big shocker here: Mayocoba beans are healthy! Yes, just like every other legume, they’re an excellent source of complete plant protein, to the tune of 7 – 8 grams per 1/2 cup (cooked) serving. They have a similarly impressive amount of fiber, but more noteworthy is they have fewer of the gas-causing sugars that make beans difficult for some people to digest. You’ll find no such discomfort with these trusty beans. Iron, potassium, magnesium, zinc, and folate are key nutrients found in abundance, essential as part of a balanced diet.

I’ve heard tales of canned Mayocoba beans but have never seen them in real life. Dried is definitely the way to go, since they’re most affordable and keep almost indefinitely. As with all beans, it’s best to check for stones or other less tasty inclusions before giving them a good rinse. From there, you have many different methods to make a hill of means.

Mayocoba beans are now my automatic swap-in whenever I see a recipe for pinto beans. Maybe this is unfair to the hardworking pinto, but they can’t match the velvety texture of a golden canary bean. Others suggest that they’re excellent substitutes for cannellini and great northern beans. If you want more specific ideas for featuring the Mayocoba in all its glory, consider the following traditional dishes:

I’d like to propose that beans become the new status symbol. Do you cook your beans from dried? Do you seek out new and exciting beans, beyond the realm of the pinto, the kidney, and the black bean? It’s the inclusive club that everyone should join, with an entree fee that even bean counters can justify. Grab a bag of Mayocoba beans and you’re already in. Get cooking and share the wealth!
Can we repair the world with charoset? Considering the lack of success we’ve seen with actual peace treaties and cease fire deals, I have to answer that question with a resounding, “no, obviously not.” However, the point of charoset, and Passover itself, draws more strength from symbolism and intention that concrete action. Every component of the Seder plate has a specific purpose, which is the start of any meaningful change, so maybe we’re closer to healing than we think.

Let’s back up a step. Charoset is classically made from chopped apples, walnuts, wine, and cinnamon. There are naturally many variations found throughout different cultures, with some adding dates, figs, or pomegranate seeds, just for starters. Sephardic Jews like theirs more like a paste or spread, while Ashkenazi Jews keep theirs coarse like a nutty fruit salsa. Regardless of the specifics, they’re all made to symbolize the mortar used by the Israelites during their enslavement in Egypt. It’s a reminder of the their hardships but also a means to balance the bitterness of maror (horseradish) as an act of resilience and the pursuit of justice against seemingly insurmountable suffering.

In the midst of these trying times, I felt moved to make an even more meaningful, modern take on this essential staple. I’m calling this modern twist “Tikkun Charoset,” drawing from the Jewish concept of tikkun olam, a Hebrew phrase that means “repair the world.” Though it sounds radical, the concept has been a pillar of the community since at least the 1st millennium CE.

I’m glad you asked, dear reader! With each passing year, more optional symbols have been suggested to join the essentials on the seder plate, representing various social justice movements. I’d like to propose making them mandatory, front and center, by incorporating them right into the charoset.
The only additional unofficial amendments to the original set of symbols that I couldn’t find a way to incorporate were Miriam’s cup and acorns. Each piece of the puzzle has an inspiring origin story which I highly recommend you take a moment to read.

Beyond what it represents, this unconventional foil to sweeten the bitterness of our affliction is simply a satisfying change of pace. Apples remain a constant at the foundation, forever reliable and accessible. Buttery sweet potatoes contrast with the crunch of toasted cashews, spiked with the bright citrus hit of orange juice and a hint of heady banana liqueur. Rich, earthy cacao nibs round out the experience with both substance and style. Though I have no illusions that it could actually fix all the world’s problems, I hope it might spread more awareness and that, at least, is a start.






When I want to get stuffed, I’m not talking about eating so much I feel like bursting. Rather, I’m craving morsels of that are stuffed within edible wrappers, bundles of sweet and savory surprises that unfurl themself on the palate. Understated or elaborate, celebratory or simply making ends meet, stuffed foods manage to transform everyday ingredients into something extraordinary. Merely taking one component and putting it inside of another makes it far more special than the equivalent laying side by side.

Those thin leaves of limp cabbage aren’t swampy greens the moment you discover they contain multitudes within. Suddenly, you have stuffed cabbage, packed with flavor, warmth, and comfort. Everything from tomatoes, mushrooms, peppers, zucchini, and more become edible vessels for culinary creativity. Whether it’s a quick fix snack or a holiday entree, stuffed foods bring an element of joy, like delivering tiny gifts at every meal.

The category of “stuffed foods” is so vast and diverse, it’s hard to define the group as a classification altogether. Paring it down to just stuffed vegetables and fruits, the following recipes are a few of my favorite examples, created and collected over the past couple years. Clearly, I need to get stuffed much more often, too.
Sometimes you just feel like hot garbage. Other times, you feel like eating hot garbage.

Though I’ve long been an outspoken proponent of eating trash, salvaging scraps and otherwise wasted food, I’m talking about something else entirely here. “Garbage” is a term used more liberally in this case, as a flippant descriptor of such an unapologetically messy, overloaded pile of fried potatoes. Not every meal needs to be gorgeous to have instant appeal. It’s perfect for when comfort food cravings become increasingly urgent, overriding any concerns about sticky fingers or hot sauce stains.

My hot garbage fries were inspired by the silly little plastic trash can vessel, to be perfectly honest, but probably work even better on a plate. Every crispy plank of fluffy fried potato should be saturated with the mess on top; a creamy, spicy sauce, meatless steak, crunchy onions, and sliced jalapeños for a final fiery bite. The combination is so simple, so obvious, that it feels redundant to write out a full recipe… And yet, it does serve as a helpful reminder that yes, it is precisely that simple and obvious.

Use this blueprint to build your own French fry dumpster fire upon. A few quick and easy swaps include:

Next time you’re having a trashy day, don’t fight it. Lean into the hot mess with an equally chaotic, disorderly, and satisfyingly sloppy pile of hot garbage fries. If it’s so bad that you need a good cry, you can always blame the hot peppers, too.
