Peasant Food

One of the biggest disappointments about going to film school was the new-to-me concept of the intellectual justification for liking a movie.  My love of film was created in a vacuum of sorts, so it was a very naïve and self-contained thing: I liked what I liked because of how the film made me feel when I watched it.  It was usually pretty visceral or sentimental, but rarely – if ever – intellectual.

Then I got to film school and suddenly there was some kind of intellectual litmus test for what made a film good that did not necessarily seem intuitive to me.  Soooo…whether or not I had a good time watching it didn’t matter anymore?  Or wasn’t enough?  At eighteen, I felt stupid for not “liking the right things” or for having an unreasonable affection for something that others found simple or sentimental.

At some point, of course, you either have to outgrow caring about this kind of thing or turn into a ridiculous adult, so I thought I was past being affected by other people’s ideas regarding the legitimacy of my opinion.

Then someone in my life got a bit put out that I have a food blog – feeling that food is more their domain, but moreover, they protested, “You don’t even cook!”

And for a little while, I felt that exact same kind of early film school stupidity...

It’s true!  I want to cook, but I barely have time, and I hardly know anything and I have this problem with vegetables…and protein…and fruit sometimes…  Who the hell am I to write about food?  I haven’t even seen Battleship Potemkin!

Then I got a grip on myself...Of course I am “allowed” to write about food. I have to eat it, don’t I?  I might not have ever had poke before last week, but we all have our own relationship with food one way or another.  One of the things that initially attracted me to food as a subject matter was that it is so direct and personal.  Everyone has a right to their opinion and you can’t really be wrong.  (Except, as I discussed with my friend recently, people who prefer pie to cake.  Those people are just crazy.  And wrong.  Jesus told me so.)   

After that conversation, though, I started noticing at times in some of the blogs and forums I frequent that even food and cooking are not immune from the kind of fanboy elitism I saw in the film world.  “Oh you haven’t eaten at this restaurant or tried this ingredient?”  (Sniffing with derision.)  

And much of the time, many of these things are a question of access, which is a question of money.   Which is something that some of these occasionally-snobbish types might be forgetting.

So this week, I am feeling a bit contrarian. I feel like some good old-fashioned peasant food.

Here's an unfancy recipe for a big pot of beans and rice that’s relatively inexpensive and fills you up.  I do put chipotle peppers in mine, but I do it because I like chipotle peppers, not because they are fashionable.  There’s nothing trendy or particularly flashy about this dish but it’s tasty, plus it stores well in the freezer – I put single servings in freezer bags and take one or two out a week.  

This is adapted from the updated Joy of Cooking’s Black Beans and Rice recipe.  This makes a big pot of rice and beans with a lot of veggies – almost a stew.  Maybe like 10-12 servings, depending on your portion sizes. 

• 2 tbls olive or canola oil
• 2 medium onions, diced
• 2-10 cloves of garlic, minced (your call, I like garlic, I pretty much max it out)
• Chipotle en adobo peppers minced – to taste.  (I put in 5-6 unseeded last time and that’s pretty spicy.  If you are not a fan of too much heat, you might only want to put in 1-2. You can also use other hot peppers if there is another kind you like more.)
• 2-3 diced bell peppers (because these can be pricey, I also do sometimes just use an entire bag of the frozen diced three-color peppers from Trader Joe’s)
• 1 28-oz can of diced tomatoes, drained
• 2.5 cups of cold water
• 1 cup of long-grain rice (brown or white, just adjust cooking times appropriately)
• 1 tsp salt
• 2 15-oz cans of black beans, drained and rinsed

Heat oil over medium heat in large Dutch oven.  Add the onions, garlic and peppers, and cook, stirring for about 3-4 minutes.  Add bell peppers, and cook for another 5-10 minutes.  Add tomatoes, H2O, salt and rice.  Bring to a boil.  Stir in the bean.  Cover and cook over medium low-heat until the water is absorbed and the rice is cooked – total time varies based on rice used, but generally it’s about 20 minutes with long-grain white rice.

Good with some pico de gallo and a little sour cream.

Comments

[The Nicest Ever Person]

Who said that?! Who said "You don't even cook"? Out them!

In defense of the poor school, couldn't it be that they were trying to expand and enrich your palette? If you followed your feelings forever, maybe you'd eat cake exclusively and never have eaten any chipotle peppers at all. I think some younguns get a bit confused by that kind of education and turn it into a hitlist. I think the screwup was where they omitted any discussion of film as a pure emotional button-pusher and they CERTAINLY never gave atmosphere its due. Bastards. Anyway, I think with food there is a similar need to include ingredients and flavors that aren't naturally craved simply because the body needs a bunch of different crap to survive that can't be gotten narrowly. But what do I know? I ate 75% of a 13" pie yesterday.

All this to say that I wish you liked vegetables. I do. And I want you to be just like me. (Insert monkey noise here)