One-Pot Red Beans and Rice

Two weeks until MawMaw Shirley's birthday, which means two weeks until we do the thing we do every year: gather in Baker, eat her gumbo, and celebrate the woman who has been the gravitational center of our family's cooking for longer than any of us can remember. MawMaw turns seventy-three this October, which means she has been making gumbo for approximately fifty-five years. That is a lot of roux. That is a lot of patience. That tracks.

Jamal called this weekend from Southern. The football season is going well and he sounds like himself — confident, easy, the older brother who has always had the path figured out or at least seemed to. He asked me about school and I told him about the science fair project. He said that was the most Aaliyah thing he had ever heard, studying MawMaw's cooking for a school project. I said it was also going to win. He said he did not doubt that for a second.

I am working on the write-up for the science fair project and it is harder than I expected. Writing about chemistry I can do. Writing about MawMaw's roux is harder, because there is a precision required when you are describing something that matters to you and also something that you want other people to understand matters to you. The science is easy. The love is hard to translate.

Mama made red beans on Friday and I watched the whole process for the first time with my science fair notebook in hand. She soaks them overnight and starts them in fresh water in the morning and adds the trinity and the sausage and lets them cook all day until they reach that creamy, thick, darkened state that means they are done. I took careful notes. She watched me take notes and said she hoped the science fair committee would appreciate what they were about to see. I said I was going to make sure they did.

After watching Mama stand over that pot all day Friday, stirring and checking and knowing without a thermometer when the beans had hit that perfect creamy thickness, I knew I had to get this recipe down on paper—not just in my science fair notebook, but here, too. This is the version I watched her make, the one I took careful notes on, the one that fills the whole house with that smoky, peppery smell that tells you it’s going to be a good night.

Prep Time: 15 minutes (plus overnight soak) | Cook Time: 3 hours | Total Time: 3 hours 15 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

1 pound dried red kidney beans, rinsed and picked over
1 pound andouille sausage, sliced into 1/4-inch rounds
1 large yellow onion, diced
1 green bell pepper, diced
3 stalks celery, diced
4 cloves garlic, minced
2 bay leaves
1 teaspoon dried thyme
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
6 cups water or chicken stock
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
4 cups cooked long-grain white rice, for serving
3 green onions, sliced, for garnish
Hot sauce, for serving

Instructions

Soak the beans. Place the rinsed kidney beans in a large bowl and cover with several inches of cold water. Let them soak overnight, at least 8 hours. Drain and rinse before cooking.
Brown the sausage. In a large Dutch oven or heavy-bottomed pot over medium-high heat, cook the andouille slices until browned on both sides, about 5 minutes. Remove and set aside.
Cook the trinity. In the same pot with the rendered sausage fat, add the onion, bell pepper, and celery. Cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until softened and the onion is translucent, about 7 minutes. Add the garlic and cook for 1 minute more.
Build the pot. Return the sausage to the pot. Add the drained beans, bay leaves, thyme, smoked paprika, cayenne, salt, black pepper, and Worcestershire sauce. Pour in the water or stock and stir to combine. Bring to a boil.
Simmer low and slow. Reduce heat to low, cover with the lid slightly cracked, and let the beans cook for 2 to 3 hours, stirring every 30 minutes. Add more water 1/2 cup at a time if the pot gets too dry. The beans are done when they are tender and the liquid has thickened into a creamy gravy.
Mash and finish. Remove the bay leaves. Using the back of a wooden spoon, mash about 1/4 of the beans against the side of the pot to thicken the sauce further. Stir in the butter until melted. Taste and adjust salt and cayenne as needed.
Serve. Spoon the red beans over cooked white rice. Garnish with sliced green onions and pass the hot sauce at the table.

Nutrition (per serving)

One-Pot Red Beans and Rice — Friday Beans and a Science Fair Notebook