This, for my taste, is
a lovely winter dish, great with celery, carrots and tomato that rich mixture
of onions, chilli, garlic and Greek herbs (Rigani), but it tastes lovely at any
time of the year. It also has a tendency to fill kitchens and adjacent rooms
with a mouth-watering fragrance.
Exact measurements tend
to go by the board, mostly, so take what is listed below with the proverbial
pinch of salt, preferably sea salt. Once again, this will probably evoke
shaking of heads and raising of brows amongst the purists, so take it as my
take on this poor people’s dish, not quite totally Greek…
What you need
- 500 g white beans (not too big and not very small ones either) soaked overnight and rinsed clean
- plenty of olive oil
- 2 medium sized onions (or 3), finely chopped
- 3 cloves of garlic (at least) finely chopped
- 2-3 dried chillies, depipped if you don’t want it too spicy
- 4 good sized carrots, thickly sliced
- 4 to 5 celery sticks, thickly sliced
- 500 g tomato passata (or 3-4 chopped tomatoes)
- 2 tbsp rigani (oregano)
- 1 bunch of flat-leaved parsley, if available, chopped
- celery leaves separate chopped finely
- Salt and pepper/dried chillies to taste
What you do
Boil the beans in
water (about 2 cm above the bean level) until a thick froth forms.
Pour out the water and
rinse the beans thoroughly. (This, I was told by a Greek cook, gets rid of what
causes intestinal turmoil…)
Sauté the onions,
chillies and garlic until they are glassy.
Add the celery and the
carrots and keep stirring.
Then add the beans and
the tomato passata, keeping about 150 g to add about 5 minutes before serving.
Stir well and season with sea salt. Some water may be added at this point if
the mixture seems too dry.
Cook the bean stew
either in a pressure cooker (about 20 minutes from when pressure is reached,
then letting it cool down by itself to where you can open the pressure cooker) or
in a pan (simmer for at least an hour to 90 minutes). The beans should be soft
but not mushy.
Stir in the rigani, parsley
(if you have them) and the celery and add the last of passata. Simmer for
another 10 minutes.
Season to taste and
serve in soup bowls with generous lashings of good (!) olive oil.
Some thoughts and, unusually, a poem
For the original of this recipe I am deeply grateful
to my late friend Dimi Hulse from Trypi (Laconia), who not only was a fiercely intelligent
woman and great fun to be with, but also a great and “patriotic” cook. She and her
help Katarina gave me the most delicious introduction to Greek home cooking
and, of course, to this old favourite.
In another life I
write and perform poetry. You don’t get points for guessing where this poem
came from, one that, despite the sober ending, I could never do without a
chorus of rumbling stomach(s)…
Fasolada
The honey acidity of the onions,the sea-salt tang of the celery,the sweetnesses of the carrots and the tomatoes,unfolding in olive oil,softening with the soaked beansthen melding into the broth,fill the place with a smellthat is so nearly like mother’s bean soupthat she cooked on damp winter evenings,perhaps to rekindle summerson sun-dried Peloponnesian hillsidesor her mother’s kitchen in the shade of Taygetos.The draining, chopping, slicing, stirringhelps to forget for a timethat you will eat perhaps two mouthfulsand, limbering up to the second one,will have to rally your strengthnever tiring of commending mefor making fasoladajust like mother’s.
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