Photo by Ari LeVaux
Like most of you, I have been sheltering in place for what feels like ever. My house arrest began in mid-March, in Spain, when the prime minister declared a state of emergency. A week later I was home, and began a 14-day self-quarantine, from which I emerged into a world on lockdown.
I have been sheltering in place even longer, although not under such dire circumstances, since about Y2K, when it seemed totally reasonable that computers would lose track of which millennium we were in and trigger societal collapse. In those times, activities like growing or preserving food created a sense of empowerment. The tasty rewards of preparing to hunker down are quickly evident to anyone who engages in stocking up. Crisis or not, you get to eat the canned peaches.
There’s no food shortage, yet, but many people are stockpiling, especially on canned food. You don’t hear stories about people hoarding fresh produce, even though that is exactly what we should be eating, in these times more than ever, when we are all trying to stay healthy.
I did most of my stockpiling of fresh produce last fall. Now I have frozen bags of tomato sauce and pesto to make noodle time extra special. Vacuum-sealed packages of steak, burger and sausage, breaded cutlets of eggplant and zucchini, jars of salsa, pickled peppers and chutney, sacks of dried fruit, and many more ingredients, packaged when it was fresh for rainy days like today.
You don’t have to aim big if you are just starting out stocking a pantry. Stick to an amount that’s doable, and fun. Then, experiment. Find some good fresh produce. Then figure out how to cook it, and maybe preserve it, or at the very least cook a big batch of something and freeze the leftovers.
My local store is cleaned out of canned beans, and yours probably is too, but the dry beans are fully available, right where they always are, languishing in sacks and in bulk bins. The only advantage that canned beans would offer over dried beans is that canned beans are already soft and ready to go immediately. But dried beans are cheaper, per bean, than canned beans, and occupy less space in the bunker. And when you are truly sheltering in place, as we now know, time is no longer in as short supply.
At this point in a normal spring, I would be loading up on storage crops and young greens at my local farmers market. That’s currently closed, but as soon as I’m done with my self-quarantine and get into the new normal lockdown life, I will be reaching out to the farmers I have been missing, and hopefully schedule some socially distant parking lot deals. I would buy carrots, onions, potatoes, cabbage and other winter staples, plus baby bok choy and spinach for my Nongshim ramen noodles, if you can get them, and maybe pea shoots or whatever else they’ve got.
Here is a bean soup recipe from the south of Spain, where my own personal quarantine began. Cocido de Hinojos is traditionally made with fennel, which grows wild in the Andalusian hills, but any kind of greens will work. This recipe uses parsley and kale, as fennel can be scarce these days. But the more greens you can cook in those beans, the better.
Andalusian-Style Potato and Bean Soup
This recipe is written for dried beans. If using an Instant Pot, slow cooker or canned beans, adjust the recipe accordingly. Whatever you do, don’t throw out the bean water, including the bean water from a can—add that broth to the pot.
Serves 4, with another four extra servings for the freezer
1 cup of dry big white beans (or 2 14-oz can of beans)
1 large onion, sliced end to end; one half minced2 stalks of celery, cut in half crosswise to fit in the pot
2 large carrots, cut in half
1 large potato, in ½-inch cubes
2 quarts stock (vegetable, beef or chicken)
1 tablespoon thyme
½ cup olive oil
2 slices bacon, whole or chopped (optional)
1 modest bunch of parsley
3 cloves garlic, minced
½ cup dry sherry or rice wine
½ lemon, juiced and zested
1 modest-sized bunch kale or collards, trimmed and minced1 teaspoon salt
More salt, and pepper, to taste
Rinse the beans and soak them overnight in 4 quarts of water in a large pot. The next day, cook the beans for an hour or so, until soft. Add the stock, thyme, celery, carrot, potato and half of the onion, peel and all. Cook for another hour.
Hold the parsley bunch by the leaf end and slice the stems as thinly as possible. Chop the leaves and set aside for later.
Heat the olive oil in a heavy-bottomed pot on medium/high, with bacon if using, and add the minced parsley stems. Fry for about 5 minutes, add the onions, and cook for another 5 or so minutes, until the onions are nearly caramelized. Stir in the garlic. When the delicious garlic aroma is almost developing a burnt edge, about 2 minutes, deglaze with the wine.
Remove the large pieces of celery, carrots and onion from the bean pot and use a slotted spoon to scoop the beany remains into the fried onion, parsley and garlic. Add the lemon juice and zest, kale and salt, and enough bean broth to cover everything by an inch. Turn the heat to medium. cover with a tight-fitting lid, and cook for another 30 minutes, adjusting the broth level to your liking with stock from the bean pot.
About 10 minutes before turning off the heat, add the chopped parsley leaves. Serve with a drizzle of your finest olive oil, or a splash of hot sauce.
