Have you tried Anasazi Beans?

I find ‘autumn’ to be a more appealing word than ‘fall.’ Maybe it’s because ‘fall’ has other meanings, and autumn can only mean one thing – the season between summer and winter. 

That being said, when I visited my son in New Zealand several years ago,  I had to revise my mental associations with autumn.  In the Southern Hemisphere autumn ushers in the warm season.  There it will soon be time for picnics and sports on the beach.  I remember a Christmas Day on a beach near Auckland NZ, slathering on sunscreen because of the strength of the sun’s rays.

But in much of the Northern Hemisphere, the word autumn brings to mind colorful falling leaves, frost on pumpkins, and plans for Thanksgiving celebrations, the traditional images.  In the Desert Southwest, we put our own special interpretation on autumn.

It is now mid-September, and trees and grass are greener than ever and will remain so until mid or late November. Flowering plants and bushes show their appreciation of the new season by putting on new growth and actually blooming. The 100 degree days, and even 90 degree days, belong to summer.  The mercury still hits 80-something in the daytime, but occasionally I catch just the hint of a cool breeze, the first sign that autumn has arrived.  Mornings and evenings are perfect for outdoor walks or dining.

I would name autumn as my favorite season and also the most melancholy of seasons.  Where did the promise of summer go?  Why am I now applauding summer's demise and welcoming the cooler weather with open arms?  Will autumn slip away like summer and send me searching in back of the closet for a warm sweater?  Surely not, I console myself.

Autumn recipes reflect the harvest bounty.  I can bear to heat up the oven again to cook apple crisp, green chile quiche, and pear coffee cake .  I’m happy to simmer lintel soup or friijoles de olla (pinto beans in a pot) all day on the stove top.  Here is one of my recent cooking successes (we won't mention the failures). Let me know how you like it!

Anasazi Beans

I am embarrassed to admit that I paid double for my first bag of Anasazi beans.  The cute little bag made of burlap in a grocery store in Ruidoso, New Mexico was designed to attract the uninformed tourist. I took the the bait.  Several weeks later, I found a package of Anasazi beans in the produce section of a local grocery store for a much more reasonable price.

Here's how I cooked the Anasazi beans.

Take 2 cups of dry beans, rinse them, cover with water, bring to boil on stove, and let boil for about 15 minutes.  Careful!  I recently let the water boil away and ended up with burned beans.  And if you have never smelled burned beans....

Then I set the beans aside for an hour.  When it's time to cook the beans, I add more water, about a fourth of a roughly chopped onion, and a large chopped garlic clove.  I bring the beans to a boil again, then turn them down to simmer and cook for several hours.

At some point in the cooking process, I walk by the stove and add a heaping teaspoon of New Mexico red chile powder and a dash of ground black pepper.  The salt I leave until the end.  It is as usual - salt to taste.

You may be able to tell from the casual directions in this recipe that beans are one of the few dishes I can cook without a detailed recipe.  I hope that you will add your own touches to this easy recipe.