“How long have you been coming here?”
“For as long as the woman could leave the house!”
Murielle, smartly dressed for the monthly social night at the Knights of Columbus, hustled Dominic and I into a tucked away community hall off McArthur Road early in October. Being the first Friday of the month we were some of the last to arrive at nearly 6pm. The long driveway was already packed and still teemed with a steady stream of cars, hopelessly looking for space. Murielle and Yvon, Dominic’s grandparents and residents of Vanier for about 70 years, hailed us down and ushered us through a flurry of great-aunts and uncles, a few cousins and a network of family friends. There was an overwhelming feeling of familiarity, not just among our clique but through the few hundred or so in attendance that had gathered there, as they had many Fridays prior, for one simple thing.
Beans.
Fondly referred to as “Les Binnes”, the bean night is a casual affair that occurs on the first Friday of every month and is hosted by the Knights of Columbus, a religious fraternity, with the proceeds going to charity. Dominic’s family has been going for as long as he remembers, and, well, as long as Murielle can remember too. She and Yvon built their home in Vanier nearly 60 years ago on a quiet corner on St. Denis, when the surrounding area was still filled with streams and forest. While Yvon worked as a cop in Eastview, Murielle tended to their three children, Dominic’s father, aunt and uncle. I suppose it wasn’t until she was free of some of her motherly duties that she was able to accompany Yvon to the bean night.
“How are the beans tonight?”
Not exactly the stuff of gastronomic passions, baked beans are humble fare, common in many cuisines due to their ease of preparation, availability of ingredients, high protein and inexpensive nature. Their history can be traced across so many varied cuisines that their point of origin is well-disguised. Often associated with the traditional cuisines of New England, Boston baked beans were prepared in earthenware pots, the city symbol during the 18th and early 19th centuries. A flourishing rum (and slave) trade left plenty of molasses for sweetening the iconic dish of “Beantown”. Puritans loved them. Prepared on Saturday, the pot would still be warm come Sunday, the Sabbath, when it was forbid to cook any hot food.
Another thread leads to the cattle-driving cowboys of the American midwest. The chuckwagon (the original food truck!) would push ahead through the night ahead of the crew to have steaming pots of beans ready for them at breakfast. “Cowboy beans” were usually baked with a rib of corned pork and a touch of cayenne, generating some much needed warmth for the trail-weary wranglers.
Then there are feves au lard, or simply, les binnes.
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Another thread leads to the cattle-driving cowboys of the American midwest. The chuckwagon (the original food truck!) would push ahead through the night ahead of the crew to have steaming pots of beans ready for them at breakfast. “Cowboy beans” were usually baked with a rib of corned pork and a touch of cayenne, generating some much needed warmth for the trail-weary wranglers.
Then there are feves au lard, or simply, les binnes.
A staple dish in Francophone cuisine, it most likely has roots in the cassoulets of Southern France, and evolved through the different ingredients and influences that the French settlers found in Canada. New varieties of beans and the sweet perfection of maple syrup were added. The beans, along with chunks of salt-pork and maybe a touch of mustard, would cook in a cast iron cauldron over a wood fire for hours, slowly developing a somewhat smoky, somewhat sweet character. While methods have in most cases (but not all) changed, the dish itself has remained virtually the same. An integral component of the classic fare continues as well. People and communities gather around them.
We lined up behind Murielle, with others piling into the queue, and waited patiently for our turn at the serving table. Pots filled with macaroni and tomato sauce; trays of raw, sliced onions and cheddar cheese; jugs of ketchup and lots of molasses. And of course, what we all came here for. Les binnes.
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We lined up behind Murielle, with others piling into the queue, and waited patiently for our turn at the serving table. Pots filled with macaroni and tomato sauce; trays of raw, sliced onions and cheddar cheese; jugs of ketchup and lots of molasses. And of course, what we all came here for. Les binnes.
It is delicious simplicity. Soft but not mushy, having something of the texture of freshly mashed potatoes, each bean is enveloped in a delicate sauce without being obscured, in a perfect balance of salt, sweet, spice and smoke. Each sense satisfied. And meanwhile a conviviality that is something to behold, the hall loud with laughter and animated conversation. Those wishing to make a night out of it can stay for the live country music or a few rounds of darts. We actually didn’t have the energy to tear up the floor, unlike Murielle and many who were well past our senior. Having stuffed our bellies with dinner and dessert (slices of cheddar dunked in molasses; how could we possibly dance after that?!) we ditched the fledgling party and strolled on home.
For $7 a ticket, the bean night is well worth a visit. You can support a charity, imbibe in a few cheap quarts, savour some hearty and tasty fare, and meet a community of Vanier that has been gathering over this rustic food for decades. It is an easygoing night that offers a glimpse into the uncanny ability of traditional foods to diffuse through cultures and throughout generations. Murielle and Yvon had kindly given us the tour. Dominic summed it up perfectly.
“No special occasion. No celebration. It’s just for some beans.” And good company.
For $7 a ticket, the bean night is well worth a visit. You can support a charity, imbibe in a few cheap quarts, savour some hearty and tasty fare, and meet a community of Vanier that has been gathering over this rustic food for decades. It is an easygoing night that offers a glimpse into the uncanny ability of traditional foods to diffuse through cultures and throughout generations. Murielle and Yvon had kindly given us the tour. Dominic summed it up perfectly.
“No special occasion. No celebration. It’s just for some beans.” And good company.
Photos: Jessie Duffy (2013) and from family archives