Bistro Vonish – Spicy Carrot Mac and Cheese
BOA Steakhouse – Beyond Steak Frites
Sweet Musings with a Bitterly Sharp Wit
Cranberry beans are a confounding lot. Some of them fulfill their titled promise as gleaming crimson, magenta, and maroon-speckled ovoids, bearing a rough resemblance to the fruits of their namesake. Most, however, deviate from that path, appearing in spotty shades of tan, off-white, and even black.
As one may guess, with such a diverse family tree, this worldly bush bean is hard to sum up in a concise little bio. Better known to the Italians as borlotti beans and to Colombians as cargamanto beans, this American native is one worth knowing in any language.
Said to have originated in South and Central America, the earliest written records come from Spanish explorers in the 15th century, transporting their culinary discoveries to Europe. Gardeners can’t even agree if these Phaseolus vulgaris are bush beans, pole beans, both, or neither. Regardless, their most striking characteristic isn’t the actual edible bean, but the vibrantly streaked pink and red pods, only seen if you’re so fortunate to find them fresh. Start searching your local farmers markets from late summer through early fall for a real savory treat. Shelling them is a meditative joy, and their flavor is unmatched.
Dried cranberry beans, of course, are most common and available all year round. Frequently compared to (and sadly substituted with) pinto beans, it’s a grave disservice to sell them so far short. Though they’re both about the same size, shape, and (sometimes) color, pinto beans will puree themselves if you look at them too hard. Cranberry beans stand firm, without being mealy, bearing a toothsome yet creamy, meaty texture that makes it a popular addition to soups and stews. Their mildly nutty, almost chestnut-like flavor plays well with others, whether kept very lightly seasoned or paired with more potent players.
Given their extensive history spanning many countries, cranberry beans are associated with a number of beloved traditional dishes.
In today’s global kitchen, the sky’s the limit. They’re fantastic tossed into salads, blended into veggie burgers, made into meatless loaves and balls, and pureed as creamy bean dip.
Like any larger legume, cranberry beans can benefit from an overnight soak. They’ll cook faster when they hit the heat and be more digestible in the long run. Drain the soaking water and cook in six to eight times as much fresh water by volume.
Drain well and enjoy hot, or let cool and store in an airtight container in the fridge for up to 10 days.
Fresh cranberry beans are a whole different ball park. Once shelled, they only need to be simmered with enough water to barely cover for about 10 minutes. Then, you can sauté them with garlic, toss them into salads, and so much more.
Beans are the undisputed nutritional champions of the world, bearing volumes of affordable plant protein and fiber in every serving. Cranberry beans are no different, with the added benefit of being notably high in B-vitamins, folate, zinc, manganese copper, calcium, and potassium. Especially high in antioxidants thanks to their trademark coloring, they’re a smart choice for overall health and well being.
When all is said and done, cranberry beans have nothing to do with their fruity namesake. They don’t look like cranberries. They don’t taste like cranberries. They don’t bounce or float like cranberries. The only explanation for their name is that some person with some misappropriated authority had a far more imaginative interpretation of the legume than warranted. The only parallel that can be drawn is that they’re sort of, sometimes, vaguely, red.
Thankfully, none of that matters once you’ve tasted them. Whatever the name, these heirloom beans are at the top of their class. Names may mislead, colors may fade, but such singular texture and unmistakable flavor endures through generations for a reason.
Tiramisu, the iconic Italian “pick me up,” isn’t entirely as it seems. Although some will cite texts from the 18th and 19th centuries that reference desserts with similar components, none are the proper, full-featured tiramisu as we know it. That honor is bestowed on two rival bakeries that claim to be the first; the true origin being lost to history, though neither existed before the 1950s, at the earliest.
The fact of the matter is, the tiramisu is a wholly modern creation, every bit as trendy and changeable as it is iconic. Ladyfingers dunked in spiked espresso syrup are generally agreed to be the traditional base, but plenty of equally competent offerings simply use slabs of soaked cake. Naturally, if we assemble from that starting line, cupcakes are just one evolutionary step away.
Tiramisu cupcakes, far from a groundbreaking twist, are simply another version of this crowd pleasing dessert, disassembled and then rebuilt in a different way. I promise this is less like rickety IKEA furniture and more like a like an upcycled version of a vintage find. Perfectly portioned for everyone to help themselves, they’re the ideal guests to invite to a party. That was the real inspiration here, fulfilling the mandatory cake requirement for my birthday without making a big fuss of it.
Using cream cheese in the frosting evokes creamy mascarpone, as seen in the original filling, while making it a much more stable topping for sitting out, unrefrigerated, until party goers are ready to dig in. Existing in that rare middle ground of sweet but not sugary, rich but not heavy, even I was honestly impressed by how well they turned out.
I’m not one to brag, so it’s really saying something that I might want to make these for my birthday every year. There’s an ease to them that feels like a gift in itself, effortless to whip up, painless to transport, and quick to disappear. For all the mythology and debate surrounding tiramisu’s origins, its true legacy might simply be adaptability because in cupcake form, it fits right into contemporary traditions with surprising grace.
They say it’s my birthday… Which means everyone gets presents, too! Collecting birthday freebies like they were Pokemon has become a cherished annual tradition for me, forever on the hunt for new pro-bono plunder. This latest trip around the sun has reaped a number of fresh finds across local and national establishments. For the full list, visit the updated master post of Ultimate Vegan Birthday Freebies.
Here’s the latest loot joining the party this year:
You’ve gotta be quick because you can only get a free 24-ounce smoothie from Tropical Smoothie Cafe on the exact date of your birthday. No ifs, ands, or buts! Join Tropic Rewards at least a month ahead of the big day to get this gift. Try for one of the many blends comprised of just fruits and veggies to keep it vegan, and you’ll be sipping pretty in no time.
Here’s the dish: Sign up for an account with Dish Society and you’ll be rewarded with a full, free entree on your big day. Vegan options are abundant, especially with small tweaks. My favorite of which being the Local Veggie Grain Bowl, minus the goat cheese, which brings you a generous bowl of warm, creamy whole grains crowned by a panoply of roasted vegetables, caramelized onions, crispy chickpeas, and delicate sprouts. If you’re on the run, snag a Vegetarian Pita Wrap, a plant-based take on Greek gyro with meatless protein swaddled in a hummus-smeared flatbread with a side of fries.
Blaze your way into a sweet celebration with Blaze Pizza! Sign up through Blaze Rewards and you’ll get a digital voucher for either a drink or dessert of your choosing. Sure, a tall, fizzy cup of soda hits the spot on most days, but don’t miss your opportunity to snag their surprisingly vegan Cinnamon Bread. Made from pizza dough stretched into an oblong plank, lavished with cinnamon sugar, and drizzled with white icing, it’s gooey, decadent, and every bit the special treat that a birthday deserves.
If you’re feeling down about getting older, The Human Bean will help restore your faith in humanity, one espresso shot at a time. Download their rewards app (and punch in the referral code “invisible250865” if you’d be so kind) to a get any drink of your choosing, up to $10 in value, delivered on your birthday and available for the next 30 days. Remarkably vegan friendly, some locations even have macadamia milk available upon request! My personal favorite is the Mexi-Oat Shaken Espresso, with sweet spices and a cool finish that hits in every season. There are also fresh fruit smoothies in case you’re craving something sans caffeine.
Salty language is welcome here, though you’ll only be cursing yourself for not coming sooner. The Salty Donut always has at least one gourmet vegan doughnut flavor up for grabs, and when you add your birthday to your rewards profile, you’ll get it free within 30 days of your special day! You never know what you’re going to get, but I have yet to been disappointed. From chocolate-passionfruit to PB & J, come with an open mind, and you’ll leave with a satisfied sweet tooth.
Struggling to stay hydrated in the face of so many sweet and savory treats? HTeaO is here to help, and they’ll be damned if you don’t get your fluids in on your birthday. Just flash the app and you’ll get an entire GALLON of sweet tea, free of charge. Choose from roughly two dozen different flavors, including caffeine- and sugar-free options, and don’t be afraid to sample along the way. Plus, just for signing up, you’ll get a bonus “huge” size, which truly is not an exaggeration; this cup doesn’t fit on the top shelf of my fridge.
As pungent as it is vibrant, there’s no mistaking yen ta fo. Known for their unearthly pink color, these eye-catching noodles are an arresting sight, luminous bowlfuls of broth in night markets across Thailand. So bold that it borders on theatrical, yet its origins are anything but artificial.
Yen ta fo (เย็นตาโฟ) is Thai street food at its best; a riotous mosaic of contrasting textures and tastes. Soft rice noodles, ranging from delicately thin vermicelli to luxuriously wide sen yai, bathe in that unmistakable pink soup, introduced through a curtain of steam. Its origins are somewhat of a collage as well, owing much to its Chinese roots, brought over by Teochew (Chaozhou) immigrants to Thailand. The name itself comes from the Chinese dialects, with “yen” meaning red or pink, and “ta fo” derived from “dou fu” (tofu).
The tofu in question is the single most important part of the dish, the defining factor that imparts that unforgettable rosy hue. Fermented bean curd, preserved with salt, rice wine, and chilies, melts into the broth with a slow-building intensity that lingers in both color and flavor. Its pungency is complex, funky and brash, but also surprisingly mellow when simmered. Some unscrupulous vendors enhance their soup with food coloring, though such shenanigans are wholly unnecessary when working with the genuine article.
What goes into the bowl after that is part tradition, part personal preference. Most renditions begin with the usual suspects of Thai noodle soup, such as airy tofu puffs, tendrils of morning glory (water spinach), mushrooms (most often wood ear, AKA black fungus), wonton chips, and crunchy fried garlic. Historically a seafood-focused dish, the standard build would usually feature various fish balls, squid, sliced fish cake, or the occasional pink-tinged crab stick, though fully vegan versions aren’t too hard to come by.
Yen ta fo isn’t meant to be perfectly balanced out of the kitchen. Like many Thai noodle soups, it arrives awaiting your hand at the condiment station. Here, you can fine-tune the experience with a splash of vinegar for brightness, a touch of sugar to amplify the sweetness, chili flakes or chili oil for heat, and a dash of vegan fish sauce for that crave-worthy hit of umami.
For all its flamboyance, yen ta fo is an everyday dish, which is a large part of its appeal. Accessible, affordable, and ubiquitous across Thailand’s markets and food courts, all the locals know the marvels of yen ta fo. It rarely makes its way to Western menus, perhaps because of its peculiar color or its potentially polarizing flavors. That’s a real shame, because yen ta fo is a real sensory delight in its juxtapositions; dressed in neon pink but grounded in deep, savory flavors, its beautiful chaos in a bowl.