Tuscan Beans in Tomato Ragu

Kenichi, you're probably going to find the following ode to Tuscan cuisine gastrically distressing:

O white buttery bean,
Cloaked in velvet rich tomatoes,
How I love thee!
Creamy on my tongue,
Aromatic to my nose,
Warming to my toes,
Such splendor! Such fiber! Such all-ensuing Grace!
I could eat thee with polenta day and night
and be content.
At least
for one or two
more days.

Okay, that was poetically distressing, as well. These beans are worthy of greater verse, so delicious were they in my mouth!

Tonight I made Gourmet magazine's recipe for Tuscan Beans in Summery Tomato Ragu, with the small substitutions of fennel stalk for celery (bleh, celery) and rosemary for thyme (someone's husband took all of the thyme for his doctor bag...an aromatic to revive all of those patients in stays? Very odd). The house filled with the heartwarming aroma of hot tomatoes, garlic, and herbs, and the buttery vapors of stovetop polenta. I swear this ragu has umami, what with it's luscious mouth-feel and taste: just the right amount of salty, with the right amount of rich, and all the conscience-quelling righteousness of vitamin rich tomatoes and fiber rich beans. It's also incredibly cheap and so filling. I used all organic ingredients and I can't imagine it cost me more that $.25 per serving. (And there are a lot of servings.) Oh dried beans how thou are the sustenance of frugal gods!

Seriously though, the dried bean is grossly under-appreciated by the majority of Americans. Canned beans are easy, sure, but you're paying the same amount for one pound of organic dried beans as you are for one can of cooked beans. And a pound of dried beans yields a lot more fruit. Plus, protein, fibre, and the lovely feeling of being so domestically savvy that you can create gourmet goodness from something as unprepossessing as a little, withered legume. I usually cook up a big batch and then freeze the beans in bags or tupperware. Now when I want hummus or a quick meal, it's defrost, fiddle with, and enjoy!

I know that (rude) people will cite the various gastrointestinal distresses that bean consumption causes, and these claims are true. Don't eat beans every day for 5 days if you don't want, let's just say, easy passage and your own built-in wind power system. But eaten in small amounts, beans are heavenly and healthy, especially when smothered in some sort of delicious sauce or whipped up with garlic, lemon juice, olive oil and salt (for hummus) or olive oil, cumin, oregano, and sofrito (for refried beans). I even toss pasta with white beans, adding some salty anchovies, olives, and lemon zest for quick flavor.

I know I'll probably be regretting my indulgence after the fifth consecutive lunch of bean ragu, but for now I praise the bean for filling my belly and warming my insides, in only the way that a truly yummy dinner can.

Calling All Portlanders: Go see Richard II at the NWCTC!

I've just returned home from watching King Richard II at the Northwest Classical Theatre Company, and it is an excellent production. Director JoAnn Johnson uses an all-female ensemble cast to tell the (frankly, rather pathetic) story of the deposition of Richard II and the rise of Henry IV. My favorite aspect of the production is Johnson's addition of a Greek Chorus, which harmoniously blends the musical notes of Shakespearean verse with the play's cyclical sense of time, and something that I can only describe as "womb-y-ness." (Like a Wiccan convention at midnight in a dark wood, or one of those workshops where women look at their vaginas in hand-held mirrors.) It's not that patently ridiculous, but the chorus effects a deeply feminine community atmosphere that comforts, even as it reveals all of the decay and doom of the Plantagenet reign.

The ensemble cast is very strong, and the actors who don't capture your attention at first all shine magnificently at some point in the play. Their voices are all low and lovely, very grounded, which doesn't make them seem more masculine, but still somehow authenticates their inhabiting male characters. Likewise, there's perhaps one delicate woman in the cast--otherwise, they are strong, bosomy, handsome women who seem empowered both by the roles, which would ordinarily go to men, and by the bond of ensemble acting. No one ever dominates the stage, which is sometimes frustrating (shouldn't the king overpower his courtiers?), but overall does two really wonderful things: (1) It allows the audience to experience Richard's inefficacy as king, and to squirm just a little in what we imagine must be his shame and humiliation when his subjects ignore his commands, and (2) each actress is able to find little moments in her lines that are so poignant and which would probably be obscured by an overbearing scene partner. The actresses listen to one another and stand almost stock still until it is their turn to speak. The effect is still, solemn and tense.

The play is riveting, which is impressive given that it contains no sex, no fights, and the characters basically alternate between yelling at each other and grovelling at one another's feet. I think it's the passion that infuses every single line delivery, and again, that magic of stellar team work.

This is a show worth seeing; it's certainly Shakespeare worth doing.