Vegan Red Beans and Rice

When I was growing up in South Louisiana, my favorite cafeteria food day was Red Beans and Rice day (with Jambalaya day coming in at a very close second).  The cafeteria at my school would cook their red beans to within an inch of their lives, stewed and broken down into a rich, thick, brown gravy flavored with andouille sausage, ham chunks or fatback.  The bean-gravy was then served over white rice, with bonus pieces of pork: I used to hunt through my plate, hoping to find one extra piece of ham or sausage than everyone else.  Pork is king in Southern vegetable cooking, and it’s easy to see why–very few things deliver the same kind of flavor in such a small package, and when you consider that most of these classic South Louisiana dishes were invented to stretch what little meat was available, it all makes sense.

Of course, now that my days of eating piggies have passed, I have to make do with new things.  So here’s one recipe for red beans and rice with “sausage” (or “something meat-like, but still tasty”).  It’s a bit of a departure for me, since I still typically stew my red beans down into a thick sauce, while this recipe (which is an adaptation of the one from Bryant Terry’s Vegan Soul Kitchen) cooks everything together in the way I might prepare jambalaya.  But it is indeed tasty, even if not authentically South Louisiana.

Image via eCurry

To start, I did a bit of improvising on the “sausage.”  Terry’s recipe simmers seitan in a flavorful broth to use as a meat substitute, which I didn’t have at the time.  What I did have were soya pieces,which look a bit like dehydrated chunks of chicken, but which are made from soy (somewhat like TVP).  These little guys have absolutely no flavor, and because they’re dried, are impossible to eat on their own.  But, if you simmer them in some delicious liquid for about 10 minutes–well, then things get much more exciting.  The liquid I simmered them in was very similar to Terry’s suggestion for the seitan, though I cut down on the amount of red wine he suggests, since, seriously, it’s not necessary (and also, we live in Canada, where that shizz ain’t cheap).

So, in a saucepan, I combined the following:

• 1 cup dry red wine
• 2 cloves garlic, smashed
• 2 tsp. dried thyme
• 2-3 Tbsp. soy sauce
• 10 black peppercorns
• 1 tsp. sugar
• 2.5 cups water
• Approximately 3 cups soya chunks

I simmered these together for about 10-15 minutes, until the soya chunks were tender and had absorbed the flavor of the wine broth.  I then drained and reserved the excess liquid, and let the soya pieces cool a bit, since I wanted to roughly chop them (they’re just a bit bigger than I wanted my “meat” chunks to be).

I then got to work on the rest of the dish, sauteeing the following in a bit of olive oil in my big jambalaya pot:

• 1 cup diced red onion/shallots
• 1 cup diced green bell pepper
• 1 tsp. red pepper flakes
• 1/4-1/2 tsp. salt

When these got a bit softened (after about 5 minutes of simmering), I added 2 cloves of minced garlic, cooked for another couple of minutes, and then added 1 cup of white rice, one big can of red beans (which I had rinsed and drained), and 2 cups of water plus the reserved soya-simmering liquid.  To that I added 1/2 tsp. salt and some Tabasco and brought everything up to a boil, then reduced the heat to simmer covered for 20 minutes.

When the rice was almost cooked, I tossed in my coarsely-chopped soya pieces, and re-seasoned the whole thing with salt and pepper, before allowing it to sit covered for about five minutes.  To serve, I topped it with a bit of parsley, and toasted some crusty bread.

The recipe made quite a lot of food (Josh and I ate red beans and rice for days), and it was nicely comforting: the flavor was rich and filling, despite being totally vegan, and the texture of the soya chunks was as satisfying as the flavor, which (as far as I’m concerned) was great.  You can’t go wrong with red wine, I think.  In the end, this wasn’t the Red Beans and Rice I’m accustomed to–the soya doesn’t taste anything like andouille, and the consistency of this is more like jambalaya than the gravy of traditional Louisiana Red Beans.  But its tastiness (and hint of spiciness!) more than makes up for what it lacks in the reproduction of my cafeteria memories.

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