Red Beans and Rice

Yes. I made Red beans and Rice a couple of days ago. Alaina and Ameris would be very proud, especially considering the circumstances. But I prevailed (and conquered, I might add)

First off, there are NO BEANS in Mymensingh. Now, for a vegetarian like me who has eaten beans of some sort every day for the last 2 years for protein and their excellent fiber content this is a problem in more ways than one. (I will not go into the more ways than one) But anyway,they don't really eat beans here. SO, when we were in Dhaka last weekend my heart leapt for joy when I saw a whole shelf of canned kidney beans!" hooray" I said to myself. "la la la" I silently sang as I also found canned tomoatoes! they don't really do a whole lot with tomotoes here either, except for put them in a cucumber/tomato salad....so I was geeked, (so geeked) when I found two of my favorite cooking items: beans and tomatoes..even though it meant carrying heavy cans on rickshaws, on the bus and everywhere. I didn't care that they weighed the same as a small child. I had beans and tomatoes. mmm.

Two nights ago, I was feeling the cooking vibe and decided to make red beans and rice. for a few reasons. 1. I had red beans. 2. I wanted to use rice in a different way besides with dal. and 3. I wanted to cook as I haven't cooked in like 2 months and miss it.

Side note: people here cook in the afternoon because it is light and then eat really late at night. They never cook right before they are going to eat. (the story below proves that I am still very american and spoiled with constant electricity)

Well, it was about 6pm and I was getting hungry. Reba left the house and I was going to listen to music, and cook and relax and pretend I had some red wine to go along with the mood I was feeling. It all went south quick when the power went off. I am getting used to this since it happens at least 2 times a day, but I was hoping for some light so I could cut my onions quickly and not accidently chop off my fingernail into the mix. So, I got the flashlight, cut up the onions, which made me weep they were so strong. then the flashlight died. Then I started sweating because the fans were not working because the power was not working (no fans to circulate air). The breeze I was feeling from the window had vanished as well, making the room sort of like a sauna at the YMCA. I would not be defeated. I fumbled around in the dark, found a candle and proceeded to cut up the rest of the onions by candle light. (I forgot to mention that as I was looking for a cutting board I discovered a family of cockroaches in the corner, so I decided against the cutting board and used a plate instead).

On to opening the cans of beans (that have more meaning than ever before--kidney beans shouldn't have this much meaning or significance, should they?). Hmm. Since they don't really use cans alot here there are no can openers. This happened to me once on a camp out at Camp Roger....I used a rock and a knife to cut the can open. This time I used a bottle opener, and it took so much effort to pry the lids off that I was sweating profusly by this point. (((In the midst of this moment I actually looked around, thought about where I was and what I was doing and was sort of amused and sort of ready to throw in the towel.))) But I am stubborn, so for the next 1/2 hour I pryed open those darned cans. So now, I have onions that are turning brown and that the ants have decided to investigate and 2 pryed open cans that are BARELY openend enoughto squeeze out the content. I am finally ready to cook this shin dig up.
( on and by the way, ants are a low priority problem, they are everywhere and only sometimes bite)

I take the candle into the kitchen, light the gas burner, put the onions, oil and tomatoes into the pan....mmmmm....add the beans, mmmmm....add too much rice....have to pry open another can of beans to make up for the extra rice.....so now the onions are shrinking. I need to cut up more onions. I turn off the burner. cut up more onions. light the stove again. I add what I thought was chilli powder. It turns out to be paprika. so now I have red beans and rice with a paprika flava. "that's alright with me, paprika is good in its own way." I tried to console myself in the hot dark kitchen. Who was I kidding. this was going to be the worst best red beans and rice ever. Worst because I thought the flavor would never be right and best because I was determined to enjoy it even if it tasted terrible. I added basil. (why not?)

Now the rice was crunchy, so I added more and more water "as needed." I was losing confidence-did I even know how to cook? who am I ? what am I doing in Banglarang anyways?

at that low moment the power went back on." boo ya." I said to myself in the hot kitchen. Now I could actually see what was in the pot. You will never guess. It looked like red beans and rice. and also it tasted like red beans and rice. it just was a monsterous amount that we are still eating, but it was actually gooooooooood. I cleaned up my huge mess that I had made in the dark, and pretended that I had it all under control the entire time. success.

the end.

Cicely, storyteller extrodinaire.