Black bean masquerade: glazed black soy beans

I really mean to switch back to cooking dried beans again, but it's so fast to open a can, that it's hard to return to an old, less-convenient habit. But with all the controversy about BPA leaching into canned goods, plus my dismay at seeing how much we recycle, using dried beans just makes more sense. The obstacle is that in the evening, when it's time to wash, sort and soak the beans, I'm done with food. I can't seem to motivate myself to go back to the kitchen and do one more thing. So, I worked out a deal with my husband — if he soaks the beans I will cook them. Read on to see how our first attempt at cooperation turned out. I wanted to make Zoa's Mexican-inspired casserole and needed black beans.

The next morning I glanced into the soaking bowl, and my brain said, "these aren't black beans." I let the thought slide as I rinsed and sorted the beans before putting them into the slow cooker with a piece of kombu. I remembered my husband asking if we needed dried black beans before a recent trip to the store. Wouldn't shouldn't he know if he'd bought them, and where he'd put them? You would think.

Several hours later I returned to the kitchen and my nose said, "these aren't black beans." I fished out a bean, but I already knew what my mouth would tell me. The beans were black soybeans, from way back when I was cooking macrobiotically. I still had those beans in the pantry.

What are black soybeans, you ask? They are a variety of soybean, but they don't look or taste like the more familiar yellow soybeans, and the texture of the cooked beans is firmer than dried beans like kidney and pinto. I want to say they have slight liver-overtones but I don't want to scare you off, so just ignore that. And no one has ever agreed with me about that, anyway. I've never had the canned variety, only the dried, and I think they are rich-tasting and delicious, but I couldn't see making them into a Mexican dish, so opted for a nontraditional version of a more traditional Japanese dish — kuromame. Kuromame is eaten in Japan during the New Year much the way black-eyed peas are enjoyed here, for good fortune.

The traditional recipes sounded much too sweet to me, so I dramatically reduced the sugar, adding a small amount of coconut palm sugar, tamari and sliced ginger to the cooking water after the beans were mostly cooked, letting the beans cook a couple more hours while the liquid thickened. The finished beans were slightly sweet and salty.

When the beans  were ready to eat, my husband stir-fried some veggies in our gorgeous new wok while I took enough beans for supper from the slow cooker and placed them in a small pot. I used tapioca starch to thicken some of the cooking liquid, and added tomatoes, green onions, and Korean red pepper.

 I have to tell ya, it was a very tasty meal.

The next night I took the leftover beans and liquid, and added them to a hotpot with stir-fried tofu, shredded cabbage, carrots and broccolini. I added some porcini powder to the stock for a little extra depth. (I wouldn't use broccolini again this way because the stems got unpleasantly mushy. I think cauliflower would have been a better choice.)

The hotpot with a garnish of green onions.

When the veggies were tender, I served the soup in bowls over 100% buckwheat noodles, for another delicious supper.


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blahblahblah. I've been nominated for the Top 25 vegan bloggers in the Mom's circle of friends. I don't exactly fit the profile of a young mom raising kids, but hey, I AM a mom and I raised three vegan boys.

My rank is steadily slipping from a "high" of #23 to my current rank at #30. I'm OK with that, but it would be more fun to be in the top 25. I'd be honored to have your vote(s). You can vote once every 24 hours. :D