Sorry about the title, y’all: this ain’t Thug Kitchen. There’s kids runnin’ around here. (Don’t click on that link unless you like your recipes to include lots and lots of Bowling Words. You’ve been warned.)
I once heard Oprah, while discussing diets and the Dangers of Carbs, say, “Nobody was ever addicted to a green bean.”
Poor thing. I’m gonna have to invite her over. Obviously, she’s never had these:
“I wanna show that gospel, country, blues, rhythm and blues, jazz, rock ‘n’ roll are all just really one thing. Those are the American music and that is the American culture.” -Etta James
Want some? I thought so. Kick your shoes of, darlin’, and turn up some Good Ole American Music, and let’s make some green beans.
You’ll need the following:
“It is from the blues that all that may be called American music derives its most distinctive character.” -James Weldon Johnson
Fresh green beans, preferably from a garden on your own property, or a farmer’s market. Choose firm thin beans (the skinny ones are sweeter, and more tender). Avoid the fat ones-too old, too tough. Nobody likes a jaded green bean. You need a nice full plastic grocery bag’s worth of beans: these things are The Main Event.
Ham hocks. (You should have known this. This is a rodalena recipe, after all.) Two or three large ones should suffice.
Bacon grease. (A couple of heaping tablespoons. Save some for the cornbread you’re gonna make to go with these beans.)
Chicken broth. (A 32 oz. carton of Swanson’s will do, but your own stock is better.)
Okay. First, throw that bacon grease into a nice big pot. Add the ham hocks and the chicken broth and turn the burner on low. (Dancing, and singing too loudly during this step is not only acceptable but preferable.)
Grab some punkins (that’s “children” for you poor souls that don’t live in The South) and take those beans outside. Snap the beans and tell them some stories that begin with the phrase, “Back when I was your age…” The beans taste better if you do this, so don’t skip this part. Bring kids and beans back in the house, and give the punkins a Popsicle and a song as thanks:
Rinse the beans and add them to the pot. Add *filtered* water (preferably filtered by Reverse Osmosis) to cover the beans, and turn up the heat to medium-high. Cover. Dance to Skynrd with one of those cute punkins. Allow the beans to come to a nice gentle boil, then turn heat down to medium. Simmer for several hours until beans are tender and you can’t stand waiting any longer. (I usually start mine around noon and let them cook until six or so…)
(Mop floor of drool…)
Carefully (because now they are Fragile and Tender, like a broken heart) remove the ham-hocks from the pot. Return the gorgeous meat to the pot and discard the fat and bones.
These beans are A Meal Unto Themselves, and I often just eat a bowl of them, broth and all, and call it a day, but they are also delicious as part of one of those great summer menus that include fresh corn on the cob, potato salad, fresh tomatoes, cornbread, and a big ole glass of unsweetened iced tea.
“I grew up with a heavy diet of gospel, folk, and blues because those are kind of the cornerstones of traditional American music.” -Ben Harper
Enjoy. This is the sort of food created for celebrating all that is good about America.
“America had often been discovered before Columbus, but it had always been hushed up.” -Oscar Wilde