When I moved to Rome 10 years ago, the front door of my third-floor flat opened into a narrow walkway suspended over an internal courtyard. If I stood on the walkway, I could just about see through the mesh windows into the kitchen of the trattoria that occupied the corner on the ground floor of the building. Less effort was required to make out what was cooking, the scent of which came curling through my front door and into my kitchen uninvited, but (mostly) welcome: cured pork in hot pans, roasting peppers, sulphurous greens, and the distinct, sweet-nutty scent of boiling beans and chickpeas.
At odds, maybe, with the glories of the city, Rome’s food has historically always been one of ordinary people, a frugal and robust cuisine born out of necessity and what was available. Which was beans, wild greens and herbs, pasta, small amounts of cured meat, offal and sheep’s cheese; ingredients that were then brought together cleverly, with Roman appetite and good taste, into a distinct cucina povera (“poor cooking”, though it tastes anything but). Thick bean soups scented with rosemary, braised beans, pasta with cured pork and pecorino, artichokes cooked in ingenious ways, greens tossed with olive oil, offal – often the stuff of uneasy merriment – coaxed into deliciousness. Despite everything and the onslaught of change, this is still the cuisine that thrives today in Rome: food you can find bubbling away on stoves in trattorias and in people’s homes.
I am inspired by Roman cooking as a whole, but it is the pans of beans to be made into soup or stew, and greens of some sort tossed in olive oil, that have become the mainstays – things we eat again and again. Resourceful repetition is something else I like about Roman-inspired cooking, and the fact that beans are treated royally ... which brings us to today’s recipe – one of my top 10: beans and greens. In short, you wilt masses of greens – chard is lovely – with onion, garlic and celery in lots of olive oil, to which you add cooked beans and some bean cooking broth, then let everything simmer into a soft stew. This delicious tangle of soft, oily greens, tender creamy beans and broth that says “who needs stock or meat?” can be eaten just so. It can also be bolstered with grilled sausages, part-pureed into a thick soup, or – maybe best of all – covered with a thick layer of breadcrumbs and finished under the grill.
This brings us to the beans. You can use tinned ones. But soaking and cooking your own is best, not only because they taste infinitely better, but because of the bean broth, cloudy with starch and soft sweetness that has seeped from the beans as they cook. As a flavour enhancer and thickener, bean broth is a great addition to this and many dishes. True, soaking beans is a bit of a palaver, but a worthwhile one – especially if you cook for several meals. I put the beans by the bottle opener so I remember to soak them overnight, then put the soaking beans by the kettle so I remember to plonk them on the stove with my first coffee, which means they simmer as we get ready. When it comes to cooking, remember temperature and time: the temperature should be low enough to keep everything at a trembling simmer, which means it takes a couple of hours until the beans are tender and your kitchen smells like a Roman trattoria. Slow cooking then, to make a fast(ish) greens and beans later.
White beans and wilted greens
Serves 4
500g dried cannellini beans (makes 1kg cooked beans, of which you will need half)
2 bay leaves
700g greens (swiss chard with stalks, spinach, dandelion greens)
6 tbsp olive oil
2 garlic cloves
A small onion
A rib of celery
1 small dried chilli
Salt and black pepper
1 Soak the beans in a generous amount of water for at least 6 hours. Drain the beans and put in a heavy-based pan, cover by at least 7cm of water, add bay leaves and bring slowly to a simmer over a low flame. Cook at a tremble of a simmer for 1½–2 hours or until the beans are tender. Add a pinch of salt and allow them to cool in their cooking broth. They will keep for 4 days in the fridge, under their broth. Use a slotted spoon to lift out beans you require and a ladle to scoop out broth.
2 Wash the greens, stripping tougher stems from the leaves and chopping into short lengths, and roughly chop the leaves. Peel and chop the garlic (leave whole of you want to pull it out later) and onion and dice the celery. In large, deep frying pan, warm the olive oil over a low flame and fry the garlic, onion, celery and chilli until soft and fragrant, – about 8 minutes. Raise the heat and add the greens a handful at a time, adding the next with a tiny pinch of salt when the previous one has wilted a little. Cover the pan and cook for about 5 minutes until the greens are soft. Remove the lid, cook for another 2 minutes, add the beans and a cup of broth, stir and cook uncovered for about 5 minutes – how brothy you want it is up to you.
3 Serve with garlic-rubbed toast, grilled sausages or white rice. Alternatively use an immersion blender to reduce to a thick soup. Cover the beans with a thick layer of coarse breadcrumbs, a handful of cheese if you like, and put it under the grill until the crumbs are golden.
