Stew – The Constables Larder

Lamb Shanks, Lentils and Red Wine

1 lb black lentils (french/puy lentils can be used instead)
5 lamb shanks
1.5 vidalia/sweet onions, finely diced (or red onions)
4 cloves of garlic, minced
3 carrots, halved across the length
1 stalk of celery, halved across the length
2 tbsp olive oil
3 tbsp pork lard (optional)
bottle of red wine (such as a cotes du rhone)
~2 cups of water
1.5 tbsp minced rosemary
3 bay leaves
handful of parsley, tied together with kitchen string
salt
pepper
big pinch of ground nutmeg
big pinch of ground clove
big pinch of ground cinnamon

Preheat oven to 250F.

Sear the lamb shanks, 2 or 3 at a time so that you do not crowd them, on medium heat in a large dutch oven or pot. Set aside.

Turn off the heat for a few minutes to let the pot cool. Turn on the heat again to medium-low and add the olive oil, then the onions. Cook the onions for 5-10 minutes until they start to turn translucent, stirring to make sure they do not stick and burn on the bottom of the pan. Add the minced garlic and cook for a couple minutes.

Because I wanted to make sure that the lamb did not dry out, I also added some pork lard, which I render myself when braising pork shoulder, but alternatively you could just cook the dish with a few pieces of bacon (discard towards the end of cooking) which would add a nice smokiness.

Add the lentils and cook for a couple of minutes, stirring often. Then stir in the bottle of red wine (personally I like using a reasonably priced but drinkable bottle of wine from the south of France for this purpose).

Stir in a half-teaspoon of salt and add the carrots, celery, bay leaf, parsley and rosemary. Add the shanks back in and immerse them as best you can.

Cover and cook in the oven for 1.5 hours at 250F, or if you are not using a pot that can go in the oven, on the stove-top on very low heat.

Taste for salt and add more as needed, along with a few pinches of ground black pepper and the cinnamon, clove and nutmeg. Stir in 2 or 3 cups of water. Cover again and cook for another hour or so.

All of the above can be done the night before, reducing the amount of time needed before the meal. Just let the pot cool and then put the entire thing in the fridge overnight.

At this point, I remove the meat from the lamb shank bones, trimming them of excess fat and cartilage but keeping the meat in large pieces. However, add the bones back to the pot, discarding right before serving. I discard the carrot and celery at this point, and add more salt and pepper (and possibly some rosemary, either minced or in stalks) to taste.

If you do split the cooking process overnight, just warm the pot up again over a low flame and then return to a 250F oven, uncovered, for a final hour of cooking.

To serve, make sure that the carrot, celery, bay leaf, parsley, and rosemary stalks (if any) are all discarded. Either plate directly or ladle into a serving bowl.

Peasant Stew (a simple cassoulet)

Fall brings braising back into my kitchen, and my favorite thing to braise is pork shoulder. Not only does it make a spectacular meal in it’s own right, but it gives you the perfect material for follow-on dishes, whether chili or tacos or in last week’s case, a cassoulet-inspired peasant stew.

There are a myriad of ways to braise pork. Two weeks ago, I did a dry rub of fennel seed, mustard seed, salt and black pepper, and braised the meat in white wine and onions for about 6 hours at 300F. This time around I did a simpler version of this chipotle port braise. For this recipe, I’m going to skip past the braising part and assume you have some delicious leftover pork shoulder to use.

1 lb braised pork shoulder meat
1 turkey thigh
1 kielbasa sausage
1 lb good white beans
1 large onion, diced
3 or 4 cloves of garlic, minced
Salt and pepper
Bouquet garnis of parsley, oregano, bay leaf and rosemary

You’ll want a large dutch oven to make this dish.

For the cassoulet, soak and then cook a pound of white beans — in my case, I used Rancho Gordo cassoulet beans which had a lovely size and texture. To cook, put the beans in a large pot, cover with about an inch of water, bring to a boil and then simmer uncovered until the beans are tender. Reserve a couple cups of the cooking liquid.

Pre-heat your oven to 350F.

Sear but do not fully cook a turkey thigh. Remove the skin and cut the turkey meat into bite-size chunks.

If the kielbasa is pre-cooked, slice it into 3mm pieces. If it is not, brown the sausage in the dutch oven and then set to the side.

Chop the pork into bite-size chunks.

In the dutch oven, warm up some olive oil and saute the onions on medium-low heat until they start to turn translucent, and add in the garlic. Stir and do not let the garlic brown or burn. Gently stir in the beans, the meat (no need to do fancy layering), and the reserved cooking liquid from the beans. Stir in a half teaspoon of table salt or almost a full teaspoon if kosher salt. You will likely add more salt, but start here and add to taste.

Tie up your bouquet garnis with kitchen string (or wrap in cheesecloth) and push into the middle. Add water — enough that it comes almost to the top level of the beans (some white wine would be nice too).

Shift the pot, covered, to the oven. Cook for 20-30 minutes and lower heat to 325F. Cook for a couple of hours, tasting for salt level (just be careful that as the water level decreases, the salt intensity will increase). Sometimes with a dish like this, I will cook it uncovered to form more of a crust (with this approach, you will likely need to add more water), or I will add a layer of browned breadcrumbs, but I didn’t do either here and the dish still came out beautifully.

Flageolet and Meatball Peasant Stew

I love Autumn. I love the temperature, the colors, the clothes, and of course the fact that my favorite cooking style fits the weather more naturally. This recipe falls squarely into that bucket, and was a huge hit with Lisl and a friend who came over this evening. It combines a homemade Italian meatball with a French-style peasant stew.

Meatballs
1 lb ground pork shoulder
1.5 tsp fennel seed
1 tsp kosher salt (halve if you use table salt)
1/4 tsp hot red pepper flakes
12 black peppercorns

Rest of Stew
1 lb dried flageolet beans (alternative: great northern)
1 large spanish or vidalia onion, diced
4 carrots, diced
3 celery stalks, diced
large handful of white button mushrooms, diced
1/2 to 1 cup diced tomato
3 or 4 cloves of garlic, minced
handful of parley
2 fresh rosemary sprigs
1/2 cup dry vermouth or white wine
1 tbsp tomato paste

Cook the flageolet beans until al dente: place in a large pot with 1″ of water above the top of the beans. Add 3 bay leaves, bring to a boil, then remove the lid and simmer. Soaking beforehand will speed up cooking time. While the beans cook, do the next few steps.

Pound up the fennel seed, peppercorns and pepper flakes with a mortar/pestle, then add to the ground meat along with the salt. Mix together then mold into meatballs about 1.5″ in diameter. Heat up your stew pot (I use a dutch oven) on med-high heat with a little olive oil and brown the meatballs. Then set them aside and turn off the heat.

Spoon out most of the oil left in the stew pot, leaving enough to coat the bottom. Turn the heat back on to med-low. Cook the onions until translucent, then add the garlic, celery and carrots. Cook for a few minutes, then add the diced tomato and mushroom.

Separate the parsley stems and leaves, setting the leaves aside. Create a bouquet garnis by tying the parsley stems, rosemary sprigs, and 1 bay leaf together with kitchen twine. Add the bouquet garnis to the pot, and continue to let the vegetables gently cook.

Once the beans are al dente, drain or optionally reserve the cooking liquid. Add the beans and meatballs to the stew pot, add the wine, and add either water or the bean cooking liquid until the liquid level is about three-quarters up to the top of the food. Make sure the bouquet garnis is immersed, cover and either place the pot in a 350F oven or let simmer on the stove top.

After 40 minutes, taste for salt and gently stir in the tomato paste.

Remove about 1/2 of beans and vegetables to a food processor and puree. Return to the pot and continue to cook until the beans are soft and the flavors have melded. This step improves the texture, thickening the stew (I hate the common use of flour or starch to thicken).

Chop up the parsley leaves waiting in the wings all this time. Serve with the parsley and a little fresh pepper scattered on top.

Winter Vegetarian Stew

This vegetarian stew was completely winged tonight but I ran with the concept of trying to heighten each flavor first, and then bring things together. I loved how it came out. The idea of the turnip puree came from Kevin on Top Chef last season and I loved it — was almost like coconut milk. It reminded another person of a chicken pot pie. I loved how the puree thickened the meal into a great comfort dish without the need for flour.

This was a big hit so I thought I should write down my best memory of the process while it was fresh in my mind. The amounts below are kind of rough, but it’s stew — nothing needs to be exact here!

3 tbsp unsalted butter
1/2 cup cream
1/4 tsp sugar
2 medium/large turnips, peeled and roughly chopped
1 large sweet onion, chopped
4 or 5 garlic cloves, minced
1 lb white mushrooms, halved and sliced
1/2 lb shiitake mushrooms, stemmed and sliced
3 celery stalks, finely chopped
2 cans of chickpeas (or equivalent dried and cooked)
6 to 8 stalks of kale, stemmed and roughly chopped
5 or 6 small red potatoes
1 cup white wine or vermouth
1 tbsp apple cider vinegar
2 tbsp fresh oregano, finely chopped (or half as much dried)
1 to 2 tbsp fresh parsley, finely chopped
pinch of hot red pepper flakes
salt and pepper to taste

Stage 1: cooking the separate ingredients
A. In a large pot, saute the onions and garlic in a touch of olive oil and 1 tbsp of butter, and let slowly cook on low heat for 15 minutes. Add the celery and a couple pinches of salt and continue to cook.

B. Place the turnips, 1/2 cup of cream, and 1/2 cup of water in a pot and simmer until the turnips are soft

C. Melt 2 tbsp of butter in a saute pan and cook the mushrooms, with a couple pinches of salt, for 15-20 minutes. Add 1 tbsp of apple cider vinegar near the end.

Stage 2: the rest!
Pour 1/2 cup of vermouth (or white wine) into the pot with the onions and celery and let it cook down a bit, then add in the kale. Cover and let simmer for several minutes. Once the kale has initially softened, add in the cooked mushrooms and the chickpeas, oregano, parsley. Add another 1/2 cup of vermouth and 1 cup of water and continue to cook.

Place the turnips, with the cooking liquid, in a food processor and let cool. At this point, I rinsed out this pot, brought water to boil, and boiled the potatoes for 10 to 15 minutes to soften.

Puree the turnip and cream, and add 1/4 tsp of sugar. Gently stir the puree into the stew, add the pepper flakes and a couple pinches worth of freshly ground black pepper, and add the potatoes when they are done.

Cook the stew for a while longer on very low heat until you are happy the flavors have all come together. Add some water if it feels too thick. Taste for salt and pepper.

Ratatouille Beef Braise

Welcome to 2010 everybody (although compared to our relatives in Australia, we are *so* late to the party). The last decade was certainly an interesting one for us. Where did these two kids come from? Here’s hoping for a great next ten!

This recipe was simply an inevitability in this household. I love braises. I love ratatouille. Why not do them together? I mean, come on, we’re talking about *fewer* pots here. WIN.

Ratatouille Beef Braise

3 lb hunk of chuck or rump beef, trimmed of excess fat
1 large spanish or sweet onion, diced
1 large eggplant, cut into ~1″ cubes
3 green zucchini, halved and cut into 1/2″ slices
1 green pepper, diced
5 or 6 garlic cloves, peeled
handful of mushrooms, roughly chopped
1 28oz can of whole peeled tomatoes
1 15oz can of diced tomatoes
bouquet garnis of parsley, bay leaf
1 tbsp dried oregano
salt and pepper
olive oil
1/2 cup of vermouth or white wine

Pre-heat oven to 300F.

Liberally sprinkle salt and pepper on the outside of your beef, and sear each side in a dutch oven. Remove to the side.

Add a couple tbsp of olive oil to the pot and saute the onions on medium-low heat for 10 or 15 minutes, then turn the heat up to medium and add the eggplant and cook for 5 to 10 minutes before adding the zucchini. Cook for another 10 minutes, then add everything else: the green pepper, mushrooms, tomatoes (and their juices), oregano, vermouth/wine and a tsp of salt. Cook for another 10 to 20 minutes, then nestle the beef in the middle. You don’t want the beef to be swimming, but make sure there is liquid up about 1/3 of the side of the meat, so add water (or more wine) if necessary.

Cover the pot and place in the oven. Cook for an hour then flip the beef and cook for another hour. At this point, taste the vegetables for salt and oregano, and return the pot to the oven uncovered. Cook for another 2 hours, turning the beef every 30 minutes or so.

The braised rump before plating.

Slice the beef against the grain and serve with rice and a fresh vegetable like green beens or broccoli. Skim excess fat from the ratatouille, and generously spoon it over the beef on the plate (and possibly over the rice too).

There you have it, as best as I can remember. The leftovers were awesome. And now you’ll have to excuse me because kiddo is napping, Lisl and munchkin and guests are off skiing, which means there’s two things on my agenda: get a stew on the pot, and get some work done. Happy new year!

Lulu’s Ratatouille (and the benefits of elbow grease)

ratatouille-lulu

I’ve been reading Julia Child’s My Life in France and the difficulties she faced trying to publish Mastering the Art of French Cooking. In 1959, when Houghton Mifflin finally passed on the book, and before Knopf picked it up, Julia read a note from her champion at Houghton who explained the rejection, “They feel [the average housewife] wants ‘shortcuts to something equivalent’ instead of the perfect process to the absolute.”

America’s culture has changed a lot since then, but anyone who reads Simone de Beauvoir’s 1947 America Day by Day will be struck by how much has remained consistent. The business instincts of the Houghton execs remains somewhat true today if Rachel Ray’s empire is any evidence. Thankfully, there is room for more ambitious efforts, as Julia Child and Simone Beck proved and as new author/chefs continue to show; a recent example is Paul Bertolli’s almost literary Cooking by Hand.

Ratatouille strikes me as a perfect dish to highlight the merits of the two mindsets (and there are indeed merits to both). Sometimes I will throw together a ratatouille very quickly, let all the components stew together for a while unaided, and enjoy a perfectly good rendition. However, with a little more effort and time, you can take the dish to a different level entirely.

On Friday evening, after picking up some lovely fresh vegetables from the local farm, I rolled up my sleeves and put together an adaptation of Lulu Peyraud’s ratatouille from Richard Olney’s cookbook Lulu’s Provencal Table. It is considerably more involved than my usual, but the result, which we ate the next evening, was the sweetest, most delicious ratatouille I have had in a long while.

Continue reading “Lulu’s Ratatouille (and the benefits of elbow grease)”

Provencal Fish Stew

I only like to blog the successes unless there is humor or an interesting lesson in the duds. “Giff is an idiot” doesn’t qualify as a lesson. Too obvious. I am pleased to say that last night’s meal was an unqualified success. Even I, who tends to be hypercritical of my own dishes (to Lisl’s annoyance), loved this. Essentially, you make a really good vegetable stew with provencal flavors, and then finish it off with the fish and serve on a bed of rice. Most satisfying!

Our fishmonger had some really good looking tuna, so I had him cut some 1/2 slices adding up to just over a pound. I think a firm fleshed fish like tuna or halibut is best for this recipe.

We served this dish with a delicious white wine from the Jongieux region in France called Carrel Vin de Savoie, and some freshly baked bread.

Provencal Fish Stew
Serves 4 to 6

~1 lb raw tuna, cut into 1 inch cubes
1 large vidalia onion, chopped
1 celery stalk, chopped
1 medium zucchini, halved and sliced
1 green pepper, chopped
1 fennel bulb, chopped
7 small/medium garlic cloves (and if you really love garlic, it can take more)
large handful of kalamata olives, chopped
1 28 oz can of crushed tomatoes
1/2 cup dry white wine (or dry vermouth)
1/2 cup water
handful of parsley, chopped
handful of fennel fronds, chopped
large sprig of thyme (or several, tied together)
1 bay leaf
4 or 5 medium tomatoes, sliced
1 medium red onion, sliced into rings
juice of 1/2 lemon
salt and pepper
olive oil
served with 1 cup of long grain white rice

In a dutch oven or stew pot, heat up a splash of olive oil on moderate heat and saute the onions until translucent. Add in the zucchini and cook for 5 minutes, then add in the chopped celery, fennel, green pepper and garlic, along with a couple pinches of salt (not too much since the olives will add saltiness). Continue to saute for another 10 to 15 minutes, stirring occasionally and letting the vegetables get tender.

Finely chop the parsley and fennel frond and add to the pot. Toss in a bay leaf and a large sprig of fresh thyme, along with the 1/2 cup of white wine, 1/2 cup of water, crushed tomatoes, kalamata olives, and juice from half a lemon. Stir all together and cook on a light simmer for another 10 to 15 minutes.

Thinly slice the tomatoes and add to the pot. Thinly slice the red onion into rings and stir into the pot. Cover and continue to cook on a light simmer for 20 to 30 more minutes, letting all the flavors meld together. Taste for salt and pepper.

Slice the tuna into rough cubes about 1/2 to 1 inch a side. Start cooking your rice.

When your rice is 5 to 10 minutes from being done, add the tuna to the stew pot. The fish should only need 5 to 10 minutes to become firm and cook through, no more.

Plate by spooning a mound of rice into a bowl, ladle the fish stew on top, and then grind a little fresh pepper.

Carbonnades a la Flamande (Beef and Onions Braised in Beer)

I wonder, as I stumble through the flurry of activities that inevitably follow the arrival of a newborn, if a slight halo of awe still hovers around me. When our daughter arrived almost 4 years ago, the C section at 34 weeks was mentally intense and nerve wracking, albeit ultimately wonderful. Natural childbirth (and for little James, Lisl chose to go entirely natural, without pain medication), on the other hand, was incredibly intense in a physical way and in some ways very surreal.

I was surrounded by women supporting a woman doing something powerful and fundamental, common and yet never ever mundane. It was amazing. The object of my awe is, of course, Lisl. Such strength and bravery through the 41 hour labor process was magnificent to behold. I know that these are not unique feelings in a husband after the birth of a child, yet the very ubiquity of my emotions is one of the quirks of this thing called childbirth. It is commonplace and continual, and yet so colossal every single time. I never quite grasped that until now.

However, the title of this blog post isn’t “ruminations on childbirth”. Food! I wanted Lisl’s first meal home from the hospital to be excellent, but I also knew that I was only going to have sporadic time available… it needed to be something I could start the night before. Richard Olney has a great recipe for beef and beer stew, but I decided to try merging two different Julia Child inspirations: Onion Soup and Carbonnades a la Flamande (beef and onions braised in beer).

French onion soup gets so much flavor from the long cooking and carmelization of the onions, so I brought that step to this recipe. The sweetness of the extra-carmelized onions complements the beer really well. I did not use any beef broth or water; rather the beef and onions was braised entirely in a “black and tan”, i.e. one stout and one pale ale (there’s lots of flexibility on beer choice — it’s very personal preference: Julia Child calls for a pilsner-type beer, and this is also really good with a Belgian abbey-styled brew).

I cooked the braise for a very long time on low heat, and the results were rich and delicious. When it received high compliments from both Lisl and my visiting mother, who got me started with a love of cooking, I knew that this was a winner. I do not have a photo of the plated dish, but with new baby and visiting family, I’m sure you will let me off the hook!

Carbonnades a la Flamande (Black and Tan)
(Beef, Onion and Beer Stew)

3 lb chuck steak
5 or 6 medium to large yellow or spanish onions
3 tbsp unsalted butter
1 tbsp olive oil
2 tbsp brown sugar
salt
handful of parsley w/ stems
1 bay leaf
1 bottle of a good stout beer (Guinness most common)
1 bottle of pale ale (Bass or Harp)

Pre-heat oven to 300F.

Cut the beef into slices about 2 inches by 4 inches, and 1/2 inch thick. In a dutch oven, heat a splash of olive oil on medium-high heat until a drop of water sizzles, then brown the beef in batches, adding more oil as needed between batches.You just want to sear the outside, but not fully cook the beef. Cook the meat in batches so that the beef is not packed in too closely together. Set the browned beef and any juices aside on a large plate or bowl. Deglaze the bottom of the pot with a small amount of water and pour the juices over the beef.

Place the pot back on the stove top. It is now time for the onions.

Peel the onions, cut them in half, and then slice them very thin. On low, heat 3 tbsp of butter and 1 tbsp of olive oil in a dutch oven or stewing pot, and slowly saute the onions for 15 minutes. Stir in 1/2 tsp of salt and 2 tbsp of brown sugar, turn up the heat to moderate, and cook for 30 to 40 minutes until the onions are golden and starting to brown. Turn off the heat and remove onions to the side.

Create a layer of half the beef on the bottom of the pot, then spoon half the onions on top and spread around. Tie the parsley and bay leaf together with kitchen twine and place on top of the onions. Sprinkle a pinch of salt around.

Then create a layer with the rest of the beef, and top with the remaining onions and a pinch of salt sprinkled around.

Pour in the beer until the beef and onions are just covered. For me, it took the full contents of both the bottle of stout (in my case, I used Keegan’s Mothers Milk) and bottle of pale ale. Bring the stove burner back up to a moderate flame. When the beer is just starting to simmer, cover and place in the oven.

Cook for 2 hours and then uncover and continue to cook for another hour or two until the liquid has concentrated down somewhat and the meat is completely tender. Skim the fat oil off the top. Taste the remaining liquid, and adjust the flavor with a sprinkle of salt or brown sugar if you desire.

The above picture was actually taken after I had served much of the top layer of beef, which is why the meat looks so shredded because it really falls apart at the lightest touch at this point. However, I wanted to show color and consistency.

I served this with basmati rice and swiss chard sauted with a touch of lemon juice, and my father brought the most amazing red wine. It was a fitting celebration of Lisl and the new baby.

Note: if you like cooking beef and beer, check out our pot roast in beer recipe

Savoring Spring: Lamb Merguez and Lentil Stew

Emerging from winter always brings an interesting feeling of renewal. Just the other day, I was sadly mired in longing for real produce. Tomatoes so fresh they are a meal unto themselves. Opening the door to pick a handful of basil and thyme. The flood of zucchinis and Japanese eggplant.

There is still quite a wait to reach those days, but at least yesterday we had deliciously warm weather. In an amusing dichotomy, the kids down the street had a snowball fight in short sleeves and shorts. As for me, I enjoyed an almost French stroll with my dog, walking into town and returning home with supplies from the butcher and the wine shop. If I was not baking my own bread these days, a baguette would have completed the picture. And some cheese. Really good cheese. And why do the carrots you find in French outdoor markets make our carrots look so pathetic? I digress. French markets do that.

I was pleased to see that our butcher had made some fresh lamb merguez sausages, and that became our dinner. I threw together a country stew that was quick to make and complemented the full-bodied Spanish red I had picked up. This kind of meal is cozy and handy when time is short. You want to make sure you like the sausages, since they provide much of the flavor heavy-lifting in the stew.

Lamb Merguez and Lentil Stew

Serves 2
4 lamb merguez sausages, skins removed and chopped
1 onion, diced
14 oz whole, skinless tomatoes, chopped (with liquid)
1/2 cup green lentils
1/2 cup dry white wine
1/2 cup water
10 oz spinach, washed and chopped
salt
2 eggs (optional)

In a deep saute pan, heat up a splash of olive oil and brown the sausage meat, then remove to the side. Place a tablespoon of the oil back in the pan, and discard the rest.

Saute the onions until translucent, then add in the tomatoes and cook for a couple of minutes. Add in the lentils, wine, water and sausage meat and simmer for 20 minutes.

Stir in the spinach and continue to let simmer for 15 more minutes, or until the lentils are soft. If the stew starts looking too dry, add a little more water (you want it to finish moist but not soupy). Salt to taste — this will depend on the strength of the sausages.

I served this with the wine and some thickly sliced bread, but if we had not been out of eggs, I would finished the stew off with two eggs baked on top (with a little ground pepper and a pinch of paprika on top, and the pot covered and on low heat). Apparently this is trendy now, but I ignore such things. I just think it would have tasted great. To see what I am talking about, check out We Are Never Full’s Eggs Cooked in Ragu.

Andouille and Yellow Eye Bean Stew

On a cold evening, I like settling down to a healthy bean stew. This one is particularly simple to make, and lets the smokiness and spicy heat of andouille sausage do much of the work.

1/2 lb dried yellow eye beans*
1 smoked andouille sausage (approx 10″ long)
3 slickes thick cut bacon, sliced into 1/2 ” pieces
1/2 large onion, chopped
2 carrots, roughly chopped
2 celery stalks, chopped
handful of parsley, chopped
splash of dry vermouth or dry white wine
1 cup chicken stock (optional)
1/4 to 1/2 tsp salt

Yellow Eye Beans

I like to soak my beans whenever possible to speed cooking time, but in any case make sure you rinse the beans and check for any small pebbles. Fill a large pot with water 1 inch above the level of the beans, bring to a boil, then let simmer, loosely covered for 30 minutes. You want the beans to be no more than al dente by the time you move them into the stew pot.

Halve the andouille sausage lengthwise and then cut into 1/2″ wide pieces.

While the beans cook, in a heavy bottomed pan (I was using a 3″ deep cast iron pan), cook the bacon on medium heat for 2 or 3 minutes, then add the sausage. Before the bacon turns crispy, remove the meat to a side bowl, add a splash of olive oil to the pot, and add in the onion.

Cook the onion, stirring, for a few minutes, then add in the carrots and celery. Pour in a splash of dry vermouth and scrape up anything on the bottom of the pan. Toss in the parley, 1/4 tsp of salt, and the meat. Lower the heat, and let simmer.

At this point, reserve a couple cups of the bean broth (more if you do not have chicken broth), and add the beans to the pot. Pour in a cup of chicken broth and then add the bean broth until the liquid is just below the top of the vegetables. Let simmer, stirring occasionally, for another 40 minutes or so, until the beans are tender. Check for salt along the way. I used a little more than 1/4 tsp, but your choice of bacon and sausage can affect saltiness a great deal, so don’t add too much too soon.

Serve this by adding a little freshly chopped parsley and drizzling some olive oil on top.

Note: I left garlic out of this particular dish, but it would go quite well. One could also serve this dish with a garlic, parsley and olive oil pistou if you wanted that flavor kick.

Note on beans: I really liked the yellow eye beans from Rancho Gordo — they were firm and mild in taste, and a little more interesting than great northern. If you do not have yellow eye, then I think great northern, flageolet, or vallarta beans would all be nice alternatives.

While this is a fairly classic bean dish, I think I will submit it to My Legume Love Affair, a blog event I always enjoy, hosted this month by The Well Seasoned Cook.