Pizza Beans — The Year Deserves a Proper Beginning

Happy new year. 2022. I have been alive for twenty-three years and three months and I rang in this new year asleep before midnight for the second year in a row, which tells you everything you need to know about who I am and I am entirely at peace with it.

We made the black-eyed peas and collard greens and cornbread for luck on Sunday at Gloria's, the tradition that is now seven years old if you count from my first January at their house, which I do count. Every tradition starts somewhere. This one started with me at fourteen sitting at Gloria's kitchen table and watching her cook and learning that you make these things on the first of the year because the year deserves a proper beginning.

I made the cornbread this Sunday entirely without supervision, meaning Gloria did not instruct at all. She sat at the table and drank her coffee and watched and did not say a word until I pulled it from the oven and she said that is right. I said you did not tell me anything. She said you did not need it. That sentence lived in me all week. You do not need it. I have been building toward that sentence for seven years.

The peas and the greens were very good. The pot likker on the collards was deep and smoky and I managed the salt exactly on the first taste. I am getting better. I am also getting somewhere in the practice of trusting that I am getting better, which is a different skill entirely.

Week 300. A round number. I noticed it and felt something quiet and significant about it. I am still here. Still cooking. Still at Gloria's kitchen table. Still learning.

The black-eyed peas and collard greens are Gloria’s, and they will stay Gloria’s — that tradition belongs to her kitchen and to the first of January and to seven years of standing beside her learning what I did not know I was learning. But beans have a way of carrying meaning past the holiday, and in the days after that Sunday I found myself wanting to stay in that feeling: something slow-cooked and deeply flavored and made without anyone telling me how. Pizza Beans — rich, savory, built from pantry staples — gave me that. A different pot, a different occasion, but the same quiet practice of trusting my own hands.

Pizza Beans

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 35 minutes | Total Time: 45 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 medium yellow onion, diced
• 4 garlic cloves, minced
• 1 teaspoon dried oregano
• 1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
• 1/2 teaspoon fennel seeds
• 1 (14-ounce) can crushed tomatoes
• 2 (15-ounce) cans white cannellini beans, drained and rinsed
• 1/2 cup chicken or vegetable broth
• Salt and black pepper to taste
• 1/2 cup shredded low-moisture mozzarella
• 1/4 cup freshly grated Parmesan
• Fresh basil leaves, for serving
• Crusty bread or toasted baguette slices, for serving

Instructions

1. Sauté the aromatics. Heat olive oil in a large oven-safe skillet or Dutch oven over medium heat. Add the diced onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and translucent, about 6–8 minutes. Add the garlic, oregano, red pepper flakes, and fennel seeds and cook for 1 minute more until fragrant.
2. Build the sauce. Pour in the crushed tomatoes and broth. Stir to combine, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom of the pan. Bring to a gentle simmer and cook for 10 minutes, allowing the flavors to meld and the sauce to thicken slightly.
3. Add the beans. Stir in the drained cannellini beans. Season with salt and black pepper. Simmer uncovered for another 12–15 minutes, until the beans are very tender and have absorbed some of the tomato sauce. Taste and adjust seasoning.
4. Add the cheese. Scatter the mozzarella evenly over the top of the beans, then sprinkle the Parmesan over everything. If using an oven-safe pan, place under a broiler set to high for 3–4 minutes until the cheese is melted, bubbling, and lightly golden. Alternatively, cover the pan with a lid off the heat and let the residual heat melt the cheese for 5 minutes.
5. Serve. Remove from heat and scatter fresh basil leaves over the top. Serve directly from the pan with crusty bread for scooping.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 380 | Protein: 21g | Fat: 12g | Carbs: 48g | Fiber: 12g | Sodium: 620mg