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COMFORT FOOD
Around the Synod

Preacher's Red Beans and Rice from TABLE BLESSINGS, the new cookbook published by 1st Presbyterian Church in Vicksburg, Mississippi, to commemorate their 175th anniversary. Their preacher is the Rev. Steve Bryant, who contributed this recipe.

This is not your conventional recipe. I'm simply going to tell it like it is.

I know absolutely nothing about cooking. Hopefully, knowledge isn't a prerequisite of culinary skill. Certainly there are plenty of great artists who knew nothing about art theory. I cook for the spiritual moments which just seem to happen in the kitchen. Cooking is a joy. Cooking is reflective journey. When I cook, never is it for me a production based on following certain culinary rules. One of the great truths of the Gospel is that Jesus came to liberate people from certain other people who built their whole lives around following precise rules and regulations. Jesus came to free them up a bit and teach them the joy of living by grace. So forget about the measuring cup.

Speaking of the cup; you will need to make a run to the liquor store before creating your pot of Preacher's Red Beans and Rice. If that bothers you, find something else to cook! I make my Red Beans with quite a large volume of burgundy. So much so, that if you did want to measure it, you would do it by the bottle, not by the cup!

Now that you have a bottle of burgundy, pour a glass, and toast the Apostle Paul, who said: "Stop drinking only water, and use a little wine because of your stomach and your frequent illnesses." (1Timothy 5:23)

Get out a good sharp knife and a cutting board. A big knife will help you feel a sense of confidence in the kitchen. Dull knives are a pet peeve of mine. Of what use is a knife if it won't cut? Yes, it doesn't take much of a knife to chop onions, but I would suspect that at some point in time, someone in the government did a study and discovered that more fingers have been sewed up as a result of chopping onions with a dull knife than any other vegetable. Maybe it's the fault of the onion. I don't know. But an onion plus a dull knife, plus two watery eyes invariably equals a trip to the emergency room.

You'll need to have access to at least two, preferably three, very large Vidalia onions. If you're making the recipe during the off-season, use yellow onions. "How big?" you ask. Well, my rule of thumb is to find an onion that will make you want to say, "Dadgum, that's a big ole onion." You'll know one when you see it.

Chop them up. Not too big. Not too small. Spoon-size pieces are okay. Dump your chopped onions into a large pot which already has a few healthy dashes of olive oil brought to a medium high heat. Cook your onions down until they begin to look clear.

Now for the garlic! I'm partial to the already chopped roasted garlic. "How much garlic?" Just let the spirit lead you. My method is to take the end of the sharp knife I've just used, scoop out a generous heap, and flick it in the pot with the simmering onions. You could dump the whole jar in and it wouldn't do anything but taste good!

I don't know why they call this dish Red Beans. The beans don't really do much but take up a lot of space before and after. I've never tried this but I have a sneaking suspicion that if you whipped up this recipe without the first bean, you'd have something worth making again. That having been said, let's stick to the plan and add our red beans. I find that opening cans is far more predictable than soaking dry beans overnight. This is not an official endorsement but I am partial to Van Camps New Orleans Style Red Beans. Drain off the liquid. I'd tell you to pour the liquid down the drain but I'm not sure what it is and I'd hate to be the cause of plumbing problems. What you do with it is your business, but for goodness sake, don't pour that stuff in your pot!

"How many cans?" Even if you live alone, you will want to make enough to feed at least eight people. Invite someone to join you. Who knows, it might be the beginning of a wonderful relationship. At the very least, you'll want to eat this for several days and believe me, you will not be able to get enough of it. When you polish off that last bowl of Red Beans, your stomach will be full but your soul will be saddened. Dump at least eight cans in the pot. That should serve about the same number of people. Otherwise, you get to eat well for three or four days. Remember, just beans. No liquid.

Sausage is another essential ingredient. I've experimented with all varieties of the meat. And the bad news is that you can't get good sausage anymore. Not since Willie Pittman went on to be with the Lord. Willie was a great old fellow. He used to process venison on old 61 North down around Kings. Smoked venison sausage was Willie's specialty. Just the thought of making Red Beans and Rice brings tears to my eyes because I miss old Willie. He was a good man. Maybe Ricky will reopen this deer season. He'll have my business. In any event, you're going to have to do your best. Make sure you find a sausage of the smoked link variety. Just make sure it won't fall apart while it's cooking. When you sit down to enjoy a bowl of Red Beans and Rice, you want to know that it has a lot of sausage in it which means you need to be able to see it! Nothing is worse than hunkering down over a bowl of Red Beans and catching a hint of sausage under your nose as it wafts upward, but not being able to find any because it all fell part! Willie's sausage never did. It was just right.

With your newly sharpened knife, slice the link sausage about the thickness of your pinky. "How much sausage?" If you fish, this will be a little easier. I would just imagine lipping a pound and a half bass. Now imagine that the bass is made out of sausage. Yep, that's about right. A pound and a half. Brown it lightly in a skillet and when you think it's ready, dump the sausage in the pot with the onions, garlic and beans. "Should the sausage be drained first?" That's more of a medical question, which I'm not qualified to answer. But I do know that the next ingredient, according to the doctors, may cancel out any excess grease you just so happen to spill over into the pot.

Now, I know I said a lot earlier about liberating yourself from the rules, just like Jesus. Certainly you didn't take that literally. There are rules in life which must be followed. Take the Ten Commandments for example. Eliminate them and all hell would break loose. I mean literally! There is only one rule which must be followed with religious fervor in preparing red beans: Thou shalt pour the entire contents of thine wine bottle into thy pot, thus saith the preacher.

Go ahead, it won't hurt you.

You're probably thinking that the preacher has gone from sounding like Moses to a street corner drug pusher. Quit worrying so much. By the time you serve it up, all the alcohol will have ascended into the heavens and you can eat without fear of an unwanted intoxication. Don't hold back. This is very important. Your beans will know whether or not you're holding out, and if they know you still have some wine in the bottle, they will not cooperate. Trust me on this. Cheap red wine is the only liquid in this recipe. The object is to bring the liquid up flush with the beans. No more. No less.

Put in a pinch of this and a pinch of that. I like filé gumbo, cayenne pepper, a little sage and brown sugar. Just play with it till it tastes right. If you were fortunate enough to ever whip up a batch of Red Beans with Willie Pittman's sausage, you wouldn't need to pinch a thing. It would be just right.

Now stand back and look at what you've done. You have before your eyes a thing of great beauty! It's like a little newborn child. You're in love with it. You delight in it as it changes before your eyes. Sit back and watch it simmer down for about an hour on low heat. Don't rush it. Let them arrive at the proper consistency when they're good and ready.

I already told you that I don't soak beans overnight. One more thing: I don't do rice. I'll eat it if someone else makes it. But rice making is drudgery. I've never met a cook who found great joy in making rice. That would be a sign of mental instability. Let someone else do that chore if the other members of your household are hung up on having rice. Rice is entirely unnecessary and nothing more than a means of stretching your supply of Red Beans. Forget about it. Focus on the main thing: Beans. Let them simmer down and thicken. Spend time with them. Stir them gently so as to mix without bruising and bursting too many beans. Once they look ready, let them cool down just a bit and serve them up in generous proportion.

And before you eat, thank the good Lord for giving you the good sense to make this recipe.

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