10in10 Part 2

First, some history.

I am something of a foody. Trying new restaurants brings me great joy. I love to grow my own organic food. I am interested in the state of agriculture in America. I study the environmental impacts of various farming practices, follow food politics, read Michael Pollan, Barbara Kingsolver, and Tom Philpott. In college, I insisted on buying all our food from the co-op. In grad school I joined the P-Patch, and signed us up for Full Circle Farm’s CSA. I love to scan cookbooks and find recipes that match up with the fresh, organic produce we have on hand. But when it comes to actually cooking the food – well, for years we had a gourmet chef for a housemate. He owned his own restaurant. My husband learned from the master, and I, well, I didn’t.

My husband does all the cooking. I mean ALL the cooking. Even when I was a stay at home mom, he cooked. Even when he has class at the dojo and doesn’t have time to eat first, he cooks for us. I can make scrambled eggs when he’s not home. Like many people who singlehandedly manage a repetitive task required for their family’s survival, who seldom receive the level of gratitude deserved for the importance of the task and the level of effort required, my husband can be touchy about my suggestions for dietary change.

So when I sent him the link to 10in10, his initial reaction was, “Yeah, let’s quit our jobs and cook beans and cabbage all day long. That’s a great idea.” We went back and forth a bit, and I tried to clarify that my message was not to revolutionize our very tasty diet, or to put the kibosh on Thai take-out. But I thought maybe sometimes we could replace pasta and processed soy fake-meat with beans. You know, like once a week.

Well, he ran with it. Although dry beans and their soaking, planning-way-ahead requirements were still not on offer, hours were spent on internet bean research. Cans of beans were purchased at the grocery store – and not much else. Not a single package of soy-based protein made it into the basket. That week the grocery bill was almost 25% below average. Trader Joe’s white cannellini beans were a particularly happy discovery. We ate a different bean dish almost every night of the week. Sometimes beans and pasta appeared together so that the food felt more familiar and filling. But by the end of the week, a bean dish felt like a meal, and nothing seemed to be missing.

For a week we ate none of our standby dinners. We remembered that curry and falafel are made with beans. Every night we ate something new and interesting and delicious. With beans. He poured out the water from the cans and rinsed the beans and no, we did not all have gas all week.
The next week spaghetti and takeout slipped back into the mix. But the beans did not go (in fact, some showed up in spaghetti sauce – yummy). In one week of effort, a consistent, lasting change was made to our diet. We now rely far less on processed soy (which, I admit, is a bean, but is more problematic than most, especially in its processed forms – see here and here and here for starters). Our diet is a little healthier, a little lighter on the planet, and a little more interesting than it was just a couple of weeks ago.

The other day my husband mentioned that he can’t find his favorite beans - black eyed peas - at Trader Joe’s. He’s thinking about buying them dried, in bulk at the co-op.