|" the creature in the sky. got sucked in a hole. now there's a hole in the sky. and the ground's not cold. and if the ground's not cold. everything is gonna burn."|
My old crock pot was extra special, and not in the same hipster way as other vintage appliances; this one had a seriously strong work ethic, a removable stoneware bowl for easy clean up, and it was brown in a fugly 70s kinda way. Even though it's sketchy plug left me to sometimes wonder if my house would burn down while I slept or was away, I made a bad decision by giving it away.
Please don't tell me to replace my old crock pot with a pressure cooker, because way back in the day when I lived with two twenty-something boys, a vegetarian Rajasthani and the other a Macrobiotic New Englander, I had one. It was a good one, and I kept it for about 15 years until it died well loved in my arms with it's weighted jiggle top nestled bravely in my bosom . So yea, I know they cook beans fast, and I know you can break chickpea world records with 'em. However, at this point in my life, I don't want quick-quick, and I don't want beans in a thin broth. I desire slowly cooked and bubbled beans thick in a creamy gravy of beany yum. It's probably the only aspect of traditional New Orleans cuisine I can cook and enjoy without using the infinitive "to veganize," and I'm not willing to go back to my old inexperienced or impatient beanie ways.
Last night I put on some small Camellia limas to cook. They soaked for nearly 18 hours in the fridge, were seasoned with browned onion and jalapeno peppers (from the garden), simmered for over three hours, and yes, they were crunchy.