Slow-Simmered Kidney Beans

Something is happening. Not with Clay — Clay is good, Clay is improving, Clay went to his Thursday group last week and said it was "helpful," which from a Hensley is a five-star Yelp review. Something is happening in the world. The news is talking about a virus. COVID-19. A pandemic. The word "pandemic" is on every channel, in every headline, and the world is starting to close the way a door closes — slowly at first, then all at once.

The construction site shut down on Friday. Temporary, they said. Two weeks, they said. I've been a construction foreman long enough to know that "two weeks, temporary" means "we don't know, indefinitely." The work stops. The paycheck continues for now. The house is suddenly full of people with nowhere to go: Craig, Connie (the vet clinic is still open, essential services), and Clay, who was already home and is now home-er.

The grocery stores are chaos. Connie went on Saturday and came back with a thousand-yard stare and three cans of beans. "They're out of everything," she said. "Toilet paper, bread, meat." I said "We have a pantry." We do. The pantry that I've been stocking for years — canned tomatoes, dried beans, cornmeal, flour, rice, frozen meat from the summer. The pantry that looks like Betty's pantry. The pantry that was built by a man who grew up in Appalachian poverty where the pantry was the difference between eating and not eating, and who has maintained a full pantry his entire adult life because the memory of empty shelves is a scar that doesn't heal.

The pandemic is frightening but the pantry is reassuring. We have food. We have enough food for weeks, months if we're careful. We have beans and cornmeal and flour and the knowledge — Betty's knowledge, passed to me, being passed to Clay — of how to turn nothing into something and something into enough. This is what Appalachian cooking is for. Not food blogs and rustic aesthetics. Survival. The original purpose of every recipe Betty ever made was survival, and the pandemic has returned us to that purpose with a speed that is both terrifying and clarifying.

Clay and I cooked together on Saturday. The lesson was cornbread, because cornbread is the first thing you make when the world is uncertain and the second thing you make is soup beans and the third thing you make is whatever you have. Clay mixed the batter. He poured it into the hot skillet. He listened for the sizzle. He put it in the oven. Twenty minutes. Golden. Good. Not Betty's — maybe seventy percent — but good enough for a pandemic, good enough for a house full of scared people who need something warm and golden to hold them together.

Clay and I made the cornbread first — that’s always the first thing — but Betty’s teaching never stopped there. The second thing you make is soup beans, and with dried kidney beans sitting in the pantry the way they’ve sat in pantries like ours for generations, there was no question what came next. These slow-simmered kidney beans are the kind of recipe the pandemic clarified for me: no frills, no food blog aesthetics, just dried beans and time and the quiet confidence of knowing your shelves are stocked.

Prep Time: 10 min (plus overnight soak) | Cook Time: 2 hrs | Total Time: 2 hrs 10 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

1 lb dried kidney beans, rinsed and sorted
8 cups water (for simmering), plus more for soaking
1 small onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 smoked ham hock or 3 strips bacon (optional, for flavor)
1 tsp salt, plus more to taste
1/2 tsp black pepper
1/4 tsp crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
1 bay leaf

Instructions

Soak the beans. Place kidney beans in a large bowl and cover with cold water by at least 2 inches. Soak overnight (8–12 hours). Drain and rinse well before cooking.
Build the base. In a large heavy pot or Dutch oven over medium heat, cook bacon or add the ham hock if using. If using bacon, render until the fat releases, about 3–4 minutes. Add diced onion and cook until softened, about 5 minutes. Add garlic and stir for 1 minute more.
Add beans and liquid. Add the drained beans to the pot. Pour in 8 cups of water. Add the bay leaf, black pepper, and red pepper flakes if using. Stir to combine.
Simmer low and slow. Bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce heat to low. Cover partially and simmer for 1 hour 45 minutes to 2 hours, stirring occasionally, until beans are fully tender and the broth has thickened.
Season and finish. Remove bay leaf and ham hock (shred any meat from the hock back into the pot). Add salt to taste. If you prefer a thicker consistency, use the back of a spoon to mash a portion of the beans against the side of the pot and stir through.
Serve. Ladle into bowls and serve hot alongside cornbread. Leftovers keep in the refrigerator for up to 5 days and improve with time.

Nutrition (per serving)

Slow-Simmered Kidney Beans — The Second Thing You Make When the World Gets Uncertain