Four-Bean Salad with Green Romesco by Alison Roman

I had several plans to make this bean salad throughout the course of this past summer. Every time I went to make it, something distracted me or set me on a different course. Maybe I couldn’t find a can of butter beans in the store that day. Maybe that gathering we were supposed to attend got canceled. Maybe the last thing I felt like doing was pulling out my food processor. This salad is, no doubt, a dish meant for the summertime — warmer weather, perhaps an outdoor setting to eat it in. But I finally found myself, in the middle of snowy January making a four bean salad for a group of people in need of some summertime cheer. 

I threw together this salad on Wednesday night. I started by rinsing and draining the three canned bean varieties: butter, cannellini, and black eyed. I try to drain beans as far in advance of using them as I can so they don’t bring extra water/moisture with them. Though a bit harder to find, particularly the black eyed and butter beans, this combination works really well together — especially with their different sizes. 

While the beans dried out, I put together the romesco in my food processor, which eliminated much of the required chopping. I first wrote about this romesco when I made Alison’s Crispy Skinned Salmon (a top recipe from the project). Last time, I used almonds. This time, I tried walnuts, and didn’t notice a major difference. 

I then cut up the fresh green beans and lemon slices and tossed them in a gallon-sized Ziploc bag with salt and pepper. Using the bottom of my non-stick skillet, I set about bruising the beans and lemons by whacking the skillet over them with force (but not too much — last time I used this method for a recipe, the bag broke and it made a whole mess.) I didn’t aim for mashed beans, but mildly dented. 

I tossed all of these ingredients together with more lemon juice, salt, pepper, and dill, and put the bowl in the fridge. 

On Thursday, January 13, my parents, two siblings, and husband, gathered in the cold to commemorate my grandmother’s beautiful life by her graveside. She lived 93 years packed with authentic joy, weathered loss, and radical authenticity. I loved my grandmother so much. She was and still will be a lifelong role model for me. Her funeral was an intimate and meaningful time of sharing stories and remembering her life. We went to lunch at her favorite restaurant afterward and I ordered salmon, just like she always did. 

That night, my family came to my apartment to unwind from the long, emotional day. I served them this salad. It was perfect. They each remarked how fresh and lemony it tasted. They liked the crunchy texture of the beans and pops of dill. Each person dressed it up differently, adding Cholula or tortilla chips or feta cheese. The bowl was pretty much gone by the end of the night. I’m glad I inadvertently waited so long to make this salad. 

211 recipes cooked, 14 to go.

Butter Beans, Tangy Mushrooms, Baked Pasta with Artichokes and Cheese, and Margaret

This is a Margaret Winchell Appreciation Post. 

Margaret is one of the dearest friends I have ever known. She’s one of the few people I can talk on the phone with for hours and forget how long it’s been. Her phone calls are like menthol when you have a bad cold. They clear your head, open up your chest, and lead you to hope that you’ll feel better very soon. 

Margaret is brilliant. Not in a tongue and cheek way. She’s actually brilliant, especially when it comes to music, teaching, cooking, baking, musical theater, leadership, and multi-tasking. Her brilliance can sometimes intimidate others when they first meet her. But after spending time with Margaret, you realize she uses her brilliance to draw others in. 

Margaret, as I just mentioned, is a phenomenal, intuition-driven cook, with instincts so sharp, they could pierce a stale loaf of bread like a tip of a Global knife. It’s her passion for food and hospitality that turned me on to cooking as well. We became real friends after college, right at the time that I was learning to cook myself. She showed me the way. She took me under her wing and had me cook alongside her in preparation for our weekly dinners with Amy, and then usually at some point over the weekends, too. We did a lot of cooking together those days. Margaret also introduced me to New York Times Cooking, which revolutionized what I cook. 

Margaret visited me last weekend, along with her grad school pal, Evan. A most delightful duo. I went into my suburban office on Friday for work, and took the 4:57pm train home. I walked through the door to find my dearest friend Margaret already through two of Alison’s recipes, and half way through a third. This spoke volumes to me. I could almost cry. When this project felt close to impossible, far out of reach from my energy coffers, Margaret stood in the gap, and darn well filled it. 

I can claim essentially no credit for cooking these three recipes, and that’s okay. I’ll let my friend serve me in this way. I did, however, eat all three dishes, and talked to Margaret at length about their preparation. So in lieu of describing a cooking process, I’ll offer here just a few thoughts and takeaways about each one: 

Vinegar-Marinated Butter Beans: 

• Something was UP with these beans. I had on hand a can of Eden Organic Butter Beans that had not expired, and were, you know, supposedly organic. But the best word to describe the final dish is “bitter.” We mused over this conundrum. Vinegar is acidic, but it shouldn’t taste bitter. Garlic can be bitter if you leave the green tips that sometimes sprout out the tops, but Margaret didn’t do this. What we’re left with are the beans. Something must be wrong with the beans. This dish has potential if you don’t have weird beans. It even keeps leftovers for up to two weeks, which I would normally do. But alas, we tossed our bitter beans. 

Tangy-Roasted Mushrooms: 

• Mushrooms, a good variety of them, are expensive, but worth it, IMO. 

• Mushrooms don’t shrink much when you roast them. They just get silkier in texture. 

• Thinly sliced onions add some fun bits of crunch here. 

• I would serve this at many a gathering. 

Baked Pasta with Artichokes and Too Much Cheese:

• Alison absolutely nails the flavor here. Perfect balance of salty, sour (from the artichokes) and creamy (from all that cheese). Pro tip: the flavor gets a glow-up when you add a few tangy-roasted mushrooms on the side. 

• We are floored that Alison doesn’t mention any options for ready-to-bake noodles. This feels like an obvious miss for the many people who don’t want to deal with the labor of parboiling noodles before assembling the dish. We simply refused to parboil, and so put our ready-to-bake noodles straight into the casserole. The top layer of noodles sure stayed tough and became like noodle chips. Not the worst outcome, but certainly not the most optimal. 

• In our humble, yet knowledgeable opinions, we don’t love the lasagna noodle choice. We believe in using a penne or rigatoni. We want to avoid the noodle chip effect.

171, 172, 173 recipes cooked, 52 to go.

The Best Baked Beans by Alison Roman

According to my taste buds and preferences, these are the best baked beans. But they’re not your typical ketchup-y or brown sugar-y baked beans, and Southerners/Bostonians may have some serious qualms. Note: On my only trip to Boston in 2018, Bostonians were quite snooty to me and I didn’t appreciate their air of superiority. So I don’t particularly care what they have to say about these beans. (I’m speaking, of course, about a certain class of Bostonians, knowing that not all Bostonians fit into this class.) Southerners, you may speak freely about the matter. 

I like all kinds of baked beans, because I love beans, but I like these baked beans the best because they can go with any kind of meal during any season. They’re not barbeque specific, or only perfect for the Superbowl. They can be eaten just as well on a Thursday in August as a Monday in January. They're baked beans for any time of life. For example, I originally planned to save this recipe for the late Fall. But upon returning from vacation in late August, the weather outside being in the high 80’s, I found myself craving warm, baked beans. No sweater-weather needed. These beans were exactly what I had hoped for and scratched all my appetite itches. 

Here’s how I made ‘em. The first step requires cooking the bacon on a skillet over medium heat. You’re looking for fat to render, which takes a while – give or take eight minutes. Thinly sliced onions join the party soon thereafter and become caramelized in the fat over fifteen minutes or so. Garlic and thyme or oregano (I used oregano) jump in to release their fragrance, followed by 3 cans of cannellini beans, a cup of broth (or bean cooking liquid if you’re going the fancy dry bean route) and parmesan. Once seasoned with salt and pepper, the beans are baked with fresh bread crumbs on top until nice and bubbly. The whole process takes little prep, but a good 30 minutes at the stove. 

I ate these beans on their own, with Cholula, with bbq sauce, and with kale and lemon juice. There were enough beans to enjoy for multiple meals, and they made perfectly flexible and flavorful leftovers. The dish is totally customizable, too. Variations I might try in the future include: 

• Use pancetta instead of bacon

• Add red pepper flakes

• Use red onion instead of white onion

• Try a sharper cheese like pecorino

• Top with crumbled Cheeze-its instead of breadcrumbs

129 recipes cooked, 96 to go.

Harissa-Braised Green Beans with Herbs by Alison Roman

Harissa? I hardly know her! 

But really, this was our first time meeting. For all the praise I’d heard about this tomato-chile paste over the years, it took me until now to summon the courage to look her in the eye. To be honest, I was afraid of her being too spicy. Packing heat is harissa’s reputation after all. But when I saw this recipe, I thought that maybe using harissa to add the heat to an otherwise middle-of-the-road vegetable seemed like the right kind of first date. 

(I realize that I frequently talk about food/ingredients as if they’re people. Should I be concerned? Is this a normal progression?)  

To begin, harissa paste and several garlic cloves are sauteed at the bottom of a large pot, until the harissa begins to caramelize. Then a large tomato, quartered, is added and cooked until it begins to break down. I found that this step took longer than outlined in the instructions, which I’m guessing is due to the size of the tomato chunks. Next time I’ll cut the tomato into eighths to speed up this process. 

A bit of white wine comes in next to deglaze the bottom of the pot. I chose a cheap Sauvignon Blanc (Trader Joe’s Coastal brand), and served it with dinner as well. As far as cheap whites go, this one is quite nice! Finally, the green beans are tossed and coated with the spicy tomato mixture and cooked over medium-low with the lid on to steam them. The goal here is to cook the beans until they are “delightfully softened but not yet mushy.” 

In true Alison fashion, the beans are tossed with a cup of fresh herbs, a half cup of chopped chives, and lemon zest. 

After cooking it down, the harissa paste added a nice amount of heat without overpowering the dish. It made me wish that we’d met sooner. I think this dish is a really nice way to eat green beans. I’m used to roasting them with olive oil and lemon juice, so this was a welcomed change. 

32 recipes cooked, 193 to go.

These green beans go really well with Alison’s Slow Roasted Oregano Chicken with Buttered Tomatoes. In fact, almost anything goes well with that chicken.

Spicy Garlicky White Beans by Alison Roman

I recently shared the story of how I came to love beans in high school by way of bean & cheese burritos from Del Taco. Back then, I knew so little about bean varieties and even if I had heard of a lima bean, I probably would have been scared to try one. The only beans I recognized for many years were black and pinto. Growing up in Southern California around authentic Mexican food, black and pinto were practically the only kinds of beans that mattered. They were also the only kinds I dared to cook until a few years ago when I was given the life-changing gift of a NYT Cooking subscription. 

I could write a whole essay on my love for NYT Cooking, but that’s for another day. This platform encouraged me to try all types of beans: cannelini, butter, kidney, great northern, gigante, you name it. A few of my favorite white bean recipes are: 

• Creamy Braised White Beans by Ali Slagle

• Tomato and White Bean Stew by Colu Henry

• Tomato-y White Beans with Breadcrumbs and Preserved Lemon by Alison Roman

White beans are particularly great for winter. When cooked, their creamy texture and buttery flavor work splendidly in other warm wintery foods like stews and soups. Or they can be served on their own with just garlic and chile flakes added, just like this Spicy Garlicky White Beans recipe. 

This dish is rather straightforward, but I think that’s the point. In my opinion, it’s too simple to be served as a dinner entree. Rather, it’s a dependable, last-minute side, or lunch on a snowy day, because it’s quick to make and only requires pantry staples. You could also use black or pinto beans if that’s what you have on hand -- it’s meant to be a template (bean + spice + garlic). In case you were wondering, I served this as a side with the Paprika-Rubbed Chicken, and ate the leftovers on a piece of toast for lunch the next day.

I’m also not the only one obsessed with beans. For proof, please enjoy this video of Bernadette Peters singing about magical beans in the original Broadway production of Into The Woods (starting at 2:33).

19 recipes cooked, 206 to go.