My good intentions at getting going on this project have been foiled by the fact I didn’t read the recipe. Bette’s Boston Baked Beans require 8 hours of cooking and I didn’t get home until 6pm so methinks they will have to wait until next weekend. Instead of a gourmet dinner I had myself pilchards on toast with sweetcorn and a dash of Worcestershire sauce sitting up on the roof.
Besides, couldn’t find any pea beans. Closest I could get were white kidney beans so may have to go with those. This involves more complications as they have to be soaked overnight in order to avoid “tummy upsets”. I don’t know about the States but here in Britain anyone who has ever been a student will know that kidney beans can kill… Good premise for a murder mystery novel actually. I wonder if I could get Lantern Jawed Georgie over for a chilli made with unsoaked kidney beans just to see what would happen.
So it looks like next weekend’s socialising will be based around beans. I’ll put them in to soak on Saturday evening before going to Rosalind’s Eurovision party then rush back to the boat on Sunday morning (no doubt with pounding hangover) in order to get them in the “beanpot”. Bette’s recipe specifically mentions a “beanpot” – maybe those who live in New England have such a thing amongst their crockpots and fonduepots but all I have is a shallow casserole dish with lid that belongs to the landlady. I am of course expecting that the combination of molasses and fat salt pork is going to cause some kind of tar like substance impossible to remove from said dish which will result in me having to throw it in the river rather than attempting to wash it up.
At least it gives me time to buy myself the mini DVD player and a copy of “All About Eve” – seems the most appropriate film to watch what with me being a recently spurned older woman and all that…