Ahhh... The memories of Grandmother's Navy Bean Soup came flooding back.
Nearly every day, early in the morning there would be a pot simmering away on the stove. The pot had either Uncle Charles' 5 Alarm Chili or was filled with white beans. All day the pot would simmer and the aromas wafted around the house as it cooked.
When the white beans were done at dinner time, big bowls and deep ladles of thick white soup would be served. Fresh hot corn bread and butter was set on the table. Grandfather always had a big glass of buttermilk with his meal.
One time, Grandfather poured out his big glass of buttermilk and the carton was nearly empty. He kept pouring out the buttermilk and the glass filled up more and more.
Grandfather had a way of getting everyone to notice what he was doing by the quietness of his actions, and soon everyone at the table was watching him pour out the carton of buttermilk into his glass.
It was clear the carton was nearly empty but he didn't stop. Soon the buttermilk was near the edge of the rim, but Grandfather kept pouring slowly into the glass.
Whispers of "It's going to over flow" and "Get the towel ready" could be heard as the buttermilk trickled into the glass.
Still, Grandfather tipped the carton up and a few more drips fell into the glass. The buttermilk had formed a bead dome over the top of the glass much higher than the rim.
Satisfied the carton was empty, Grandfather sat back and started to chuckle. There in front of him was an over full glass of buttermilk with a dome ready to overflow onto the table.
More whispers of "Get another towel..." and "How are you going to pick it up?" could be heard while Grandfather basked in his achievement.
With a twinkle in his eyes and a smile, he reached out and with a perfectly steady hand picked up the glass, then he brought the glass to his lips and slurped the dome of buttermilk off the top of the glass, as if it was the foamy head on a mug of rootbeer. SLURP! Not a single drop fell.
With visions of Grandmother's Navy Beans, I gathered all the items on the recipe list. Luckily, I had everything. I soaked the white beans over night and the next morning I assembled the entire list in the crockpot. One of the items was a can of tomatoes. I was a bit puzzled by this as I had no memory of Grandmother putting a can of tomatoes in her soup, but I never really paid too much attention to how she made the soup since it was always already on the stove by the time breakfast was ready.
Still it was puzzling, because normally you do not add anything acidic to beans at the start of cooking. No salt or tomatoes, which are acidic, because it makes the exterior of the beans harder and takes longer to cook them., so these are added towards the end of the cooking process. Some recipes do put acidic items in at first as the cooked beans have a different texture or the cooking process is for a specific dish.
So, I puzzled over the call for the tomotes but that's what the recipe said, so into the crockpot the tomatoes went, along with the rest of the items. The lid went on, and the dish would be ready later that evening. Images and thoughts of Grandmother's Fantastic Navy Bean Soup followed me throughout the day.
When I came home later, I could smell the aroma of cooking from the crockpot. As I entered the door, there was the delicious smell of cooking beans... except... hmmm... It didn't smell like Grandmother's Navy Bean Soup.
Actually, I don't remember Grandmother's Navy Bean Soup having much aroma, just fantastic taste. I came inside and put away my things and then headed to the kitchen to see how that fabulous pot of white beans was doing after hours of slow cooking. I looked through the glass lid and stopped. I blinked my eyes a few times, just to be sure I was seeing that what was in the pot, was really what was in the pot.
Not a white bean to be seen.
Everything in the pot was a pinkish-brown. The sauce was thick and the beans clearly cooked but it was all pinkish-brown.
I checked the recipe and it clearly said "Navy Bean Soup". I checked the list of ingredients and mentally ticked off each item until I got to the can of tomates.
Lightbulb!
The tomatoes had turned the sauce red-brown and the white beans had taken on a pinkish-brown color.
I wasn't sure what I had cooked, so I took out a spoon and gave it a taste test...
It was "pork and beans" style beans.
I made a few seasoning adjustments to the pot and thought about all those cans of "pork and beans" we bought at the market. We often served those out of the can on hot days or as an alternate to cans of Baked Beans for picnic style dinners.
I wondered if Grandmother knew she could have added a can of tomatoes to her Navy Beans Soup to make "pork and beans" style instead?
I am sure she did.
It was just everyone preferred her White Navy Bean Soup; the thought of which even now makes my tummy rumble.
One thing is for certain:
If the recipe calls for a can of tomatoes, it is
Not Grandmother's Navy Bean Soup.
Not Grandmother's Navy Bean Soup |
1 comment:
We learn something new everyday! Isn’t life wonderful?
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