Karadeniz Romano Beans

One of the best ways to satiate an appetite after several hours of climbing Istanbul’s steep hills is to step into a lokanta. At these cozy, informal restaurants, similar to traiteurs in France, the establishment’s offerings are all laid out behind the counter, which is great for the traveler who is less familiar with the names and contents of Turkish dishes than she’d like to be. You can point to and inquire about the various stews, pilafs, and salads and know much more about what you eventually request to have heaped on your plate than you would if you had ordered blindly from a menu.

The food at lokantas is usually simple and traditional, the kind of thing that benefits from being prepared ahead. But when the simplest food is prepared with good ingredients and small, painstakingly made batches, it can impress just as much as a fancy restaurant.

One lunch I had at a lokanta specializing in Karadeniz cuisine (from regions along the coast of the Black Sea) was particularly memorable. I had ordered a stewed romano bean dish that looked hearty and satisfying, but I discovered after one bite that it had much more to recommend it than its nutritional value. There was some subtle ingeniousness to its flavor, soft yet slightly tangy, the herbs and spices blending into a single coherent background, making it difficult to identify and single component.

When I saw some romano beans at the Beehive Farmer’s Market down the street from my new apartment, I decided to try to recreate the dish, even though I knew it would require a lot of experimentation to get elusive the seasoning right. My first attempt included rosemary, garlic, and onion for aromatics, and a splash of balsamic vinegar for some depth and a balance to the sweetness of the tomatoes. It was good, but nowhere near revelatory. I left most of my spice collection in New York, and cooking with the more limited supplies I’ve gathered here is like switching from a grand piano to a 49-key Casio keyboard. But I believed I could still do better, and the next day I reheated it with some fresh sage, more fresh rosemary, ground sumac, and dried thyme.

Day two’s version was better, and in fact very good. A slice of Acme’s herb slab stood in place of the shopping bag of fresh, fluffy foccacia that came with each table at the original Karadeniz lokanta. Below is the recipe for an approximation of the final version, but if you’re on your way to Istanbul, let me know and I’ll have Katherine take you to get the real thing.

Note: Even more than expected, this is definitely a dish that improves as it sits in the fridge. The last helping, consumed on day three, was by far the best, and a rival to what I had in Istanbul.

Karadeniz Romano Beans

Slightly less than 1 lb romano beans (I happened to have grabbed 4/5 lb)
1 8 oz. can diced tomatoes
2 tbsp balsamic vinegar
Half a medium yellow onion, diced
1 clove garlic, minced
6 inch rosemary sprig, chopped
2 large sage leaves, chopped
½ teaspoon sumac
½ cup water
Salt and pepper, to taste

Trim ends of romano beans and cut into halves or thirds, depending on size. In a deep saucepan or Dutch oven (one of which I am now the proud owner, or at least borrower!), saute onion in olive oil for a few minutes until softened and slightly browned. Add salt and pepper, rosemary, garlic, sage, and sumac, cook a minute more. Deglaze with balsamic vinegar, then add tomatoes and bring to a boil. Add beans and water (add more water if the mixture doesn’t cover the beans, then reduce to a simmer and cover. Cook for 50 minutes, until beans are very tender. Let cool in the pot for 15 minutes or so, allowing the stew to thicken.