The Navy has been a big part of my life; in fact, I wouldn't have one without it. In 1953 a Navy lieutenant from a small town in Indiana made a trip up to Boston with one of his buddies. They were serving on ships in Newport, RI and went to see some gals that the friend knew. The lieutenant was quite taken with one of them, a young woman who hailed from a very small town in very northern Maine. Unfortunately he didn't get her phone number, and his friend got underway on an around-the-world cruise before he could get it from him. This was well before the age of email at sea; after waiting six months and deploying several communications techniques, the young officer finally got a postcard containing the much sought after contact info. He called her, she remembered him, and on their second date they got engaged. They were married for nearly 50 years. I still have the postcard that brought my mom and dad together.
Mom grew up in Aroostook County, the largest of Maine's sixteen counties. Most Mainers refer to it as simply "The County." Having grown up in a predominantly agricultural area (potatoes were the big crop), one of the many gifts my mom gave us was an appreciation for where food comes from. No matter where the Navy had us living, we'd always venture out to farm stands and pick-your-own fields and enjoy local flavors. She was also a great cook, which was pretty entertaining given that her maiden name was Cook. Destiny perhaps? Our family developed a nice culinary tradition, rooted in our folks' Hoosier and Yankee backgrounds, and flavored by the influences of the places we lived and travelled and the many people we met, a sprinkling of Southern here, a dash of Phillippine there.
Being from Maine, Mom had a bean pot, of course. We enjoyed many a Saturday Night Supper of baked beans and brown bread. It was on a trip to Maine in the summer of 1993 that I got my very own bean pot. It was one of those moments when I finally felt like a grown up, even though I'd been out of school and on my own for a very long time. Mom gave me her mother's recipe for "Kosher Baked Beans" and we began our favorite little game. You see, the recipe instructs that "in the a.m." you put the ingredients in the pot and place it in the oven, and then "after lunch" you add the key ingredient, the molasses that gives the beans their delicious sweetness. Every time I baked beans, I'd have to call Mom. It went something like this: "Mom, when did your mother get up in the morning and when did she eat lunch?" answered by "Oh, you must be baking beans" and chuckles from both of us.
Mom isn't with us anymore, but every time I pull out my bean pot and read the recipe on the card tucked inside, I can hear the chuckle in her voice again. I hope to share many recipes in this space, and I think it's fitting that this is the first one. This is a direct transcription from my mom's handwritten recipe card, with some comments and clarifications from me in parentheses. I hope you'll enjoy these on a Saturday night - or anytime - with those you hold dear.
Kosher Baked Beans
1 pound (dried) beans = 2 1/2 cups
Soak beans overnight. In the a.m., put an onion cut in quarters in the bottom of the bean pot. Add beans and oleo (butter is okay) cut in pieces in layers. (Note: For one pound of beans, I use about 1/2 stick of butter.) Mix 2 tablespoons sugar, 1 teaspoon dry mustard, 1/4 teaspoon pepper, 3/4 tablespoon salt with 1 pint of boiling water - pour over beans; may need to add more water to cover beans. (Note: I've taken to adding the salt much later in the baking, with good results.) Cover pot and bake at 300 Fahrenheit. Add more boiling water during the day if necessary. After lunch add 1/2 cup unsulphured molasses dissolved in a little boiling water. Bake 6-7 hours total.
(Another note: the best beans to use are Soldier Beans grown in Aroostook County. If you aren't lucky enough to take a trip to Maine to stock your larder, you can enjoy Yellow-eye Beans from your local grocer.)
