Somewhere between 10,000 and 8000 BCE, humans began to settle. The grueling hunter-gatherer lifestyle flew out the (stone) door the moment we realised that we could, in fact, grow our food. It was a thought both revelatory and revolutionary. This, quite naturally, led to the rise of civilization as we know it - albeit an ancient, more earth-worshipping and animal-sacrificing version. Civilised societies began to spring up all over the planet and, freed from the constant search for food, the social, intellectual human was born. Mesopotamia, that feminine curve of land known as the Fertile Crescent (part of the modern day Middle East) was just one of the birthplaces of, well, us.
A few millenia later, the travelling bug bit. Trade routes were established and international diplomacy began to take shape. More excitingly, new foods, spices, herbs and seasoning, styles of cooking and stories - yes, ever the obsessive - were introduced by travellers upon their return. Incredibly creative and prosperous times to have lived in. The journey itself must have opened eyes and minds.
Rather fancifully named, a dish called 'Elam Kidney Bean and Lime Braise' needed, for my taste, some adjustment. It comes via Najmieh Batmanglij's romantically-titled 'Silk Road Cooking', a book that's, sadly, just a fraction too big to balance on my knees when propped up in bed. Sad because it's the kind of reading that transports. Quite apart from the fact that the intricacies of the Elamite language have been lost in antiquity and that kidney beans (named not terribly imaginatively for their colour and curve) were introduced to European shores about 2000 years after Elam had been well and truly crushed, I'd have to say that Persia would be a better empire on which to hang this recipe. Sort of. That and the fact that the Persian Empire took up a sizable chunk of The Silk Road. But who am I to quibble? This is a very fine thing to eat.
Kidney beans with herbs and limes - feeds 4
Really let these flavours develop and do, please, take your time. The greens here need a little coaxing to shine. Patience rewards richly. Adapted from Silk Road Cooking.
2 tablespoons of butter
2 tablespoons of olive oil
1 onion, chopped
6 cloves of garlic, chopped
1 small red chilli, deseeded and chopped
2 bunches of spring onions, chopped
1 bunch of parsley, stalks too, chopped
2 bunches of coriander (cilantro), stalks too, chopped
3 tablespoons of dried fenugreek leaves (or 1tsp ground fenugreek seeds)
Sea salt
1/2 teaspoon of turmeric
1 teaspoon of ground cumin
4 dried limes (loomi)*
2 x 400g (15oz) tins of kidney beans, drained and rinsed well
4 cups of water
3 fresh limes
Basmati rice, to serve
Gently warm the butter and oil together in a deep, heavy-based saucepan. Add the onions and cook, stirring occasionally, until soft and beginning to turn gold. Take your time and let them caramelise slowly. Add the garlic, chilli, spring onions and herbs and continue to cook slowly, slowly and stirring from time to time for 20 minutes. It should smell aromatic and very, very good.
Add a teaspoon of salt, the turmeric and the cumin to the saucepan. Pierce each dried lime with a skewer and add these next. Tip in the drained and rinsed kidney beans and cook for 2 minutes.
Pour in the water, followed by the juice of the fresh limes. Bring to a boil then reduce the heat to a simmer. Partially cover with a lid and cook for 30 minutes.
Discard the dried limes - they will freak the uninitiated out, I promise - and season to taste. Serve hot, over Basmati rice.
*Loomi are whole dried limes, black and elephantine, an exotic ingredient purchased, on a whim, months (okay, years) ago. You'll find them in Middle Eastern Grocers. Traditionally used in Iranian and Kuwaiti dishes (Persia sounds far more exotic), once you've sampled them, I'm confident you'll find uses beyond the traditional. I certainly have.
Susan, The Well-Seasoned Cook, is hosting the second round of My Legume Love Affair this August.
Entries close on Sunday, August 24th.








What a beautiful recipe. I can see I will be linking that one in the future (I feel a post on beans coming on!).
Thanks for popping by earlier and commenting on the shopping article :)
Posted by: Gill Stannard Naturopath | August 21, 2008 at 05:34 PM
A really gorgeous dish Lucy! I see what you mean about those limes though, they just don't look appealing at all. What kind of flavour do they bring, is it a smokey flavour?
Posted by: Holler | August 21, 2008 at 07:03 PM
nice little potted history - I guess things moved a bit slower then than now but maybe not - what would the nomads have thought of their 'forward thinking' relatives deciding to settle in one place???
I guess our ancestors would have had to settle to start drying and preserving fruit - do those strange looking dried limes make civilisation seem worthwhile?
Posted by: Johanna | August 21, 2008 at 10:01 PM
You did use Loomi in such a lovely way. Yum.
Posted by: maybelles mom (feeding maybelle) | August 21, 2008 at 10:41 PM
Nice! I have never tasted loomi: needless to say, now I'd like to.
Posted by: Simona | August 22, 2008 at 07:38 AM
This is exactly what my body is craving at this time of the year, and it looks utterly delectable. I actually hadn't heard of these dried limes, so I must try and track them down. They look very unprepossessing, but I can imagine they'd give it an amazing flavour.
That cookbook has such a wonderfully romantic name too.
Posted by: docwitch | August 22, 2008 at 04:35 PM
You know, I really do think this page layout shows off your beautiful photographs much better than the previous set up. The onion one made my heart flutter!
Will be eating this dish in the next few days. Will let you know how it goes. :)
Posted by: Wendy | August 23, 2008 at 05:51 AM
That looks lovely! I'm so glad I found your blog. :o) Thank you for the recipe.
Posted by: Destiny | August 24, 2008 at 10:07 AM
Your new blog is beautiful! Can't wait to try loomi.
Posted by: Val Webb | August 25, 2008 at 05:44 AM
What a gorgeous recipe, made all the more alluring by its beautifully presented history. The loomi are also fascinating. Would love to try them out!
Posted by: Ricki | August 25, 2008 at 11:37 AM
You're right, Persia does sound so much more romantic. I wonder perhaps, if the Persians had got past those 300 Greeks a little more easily, we might all have been eating this on a regular basis. No bad thing really.
Posted by: neil | August 25, 2008 at 03:53 PM
I wonder where I can find Loomi around here? Because I think I might be in love with this recipe.
Posted by: Juno | August 26, 2008 at 01:26 AM
A beautiful new blog and a recipe as gorgeous looking as it is intriguing - I wouldn't have expected any less of you! I'm updating the link on my blog now...
Posted by: Rosa | August 26, 2008 at 02:03 AM
I'm hyperventilating and pretty speechless.
: D
Posted by: Susan | August 26, 2008 at 09:28 AM
Love this bit of legume history -- and who knew I could ever find myself so taken with an onion? Your photo is poetry.
I have a Beautiful Site Award to pass along, and I'd love to send it your way. (To be honest, I couldn't get the code to jive with my site, but someone recommended I just post it as a jpeg. If you'd like the code, let me know and I'd be so pleased to send it to you! Or you can grab the jpeg from my site.) Enjoy!
http://thezest.wordpress.com
Posted by: Trisha | August 26, 2008 at 12:54 PM
You shouldn't discard the loomies! they are so tasty if you squeeze them into the dish then eat a bit of it with every bite.
Posted by: Reena Morbia | November 10, 2009 at 06:08 AM