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Created by Chef Remy
Tender lima beans slow-simmered in smoky bacon drippings with the holy trinity, finished with a swirl of cream and butter until they're so silky you'll want to eat the whole pot with a spoon
Lima beans don't get the respect they deserve. Folks think of those gray, mealy things from school cafeterias and they turn away. That's a shame, because a properly cooked lima bean is one of the finest things you can put on a plate. Creamy, buttery, with a sweetness that plays beautifully against smoky pork and Cajun spices.
My grandmother Evangeline made these every summer when the limas came in fresh from the garden. She'd shell them on the back porch, a whole bucket of pods at her feet, and by suppertime the kitchen smelled like heaven itself. Bacon fat, onions going soft, and those beautiful pale green beans swimming in a pot of seasoned stock. Simple food. Honest food. The kind that feeds your soul as much as your belly.
The secret is patience. You can't rush lima beans. They need time to break down, to release their starch into the cooking liquid, to become that thick, creamy consistency that coats every bite. Start with good bacon, build your flavor in layers, and let the pot do its work. When those beans turn soft enough to crush against the roof of your mouth, you've done it right.
Quantity
6 strips
cut into 1/2-inch pieces
Quantity
1 medium
diced
Quantity
2
diced
Quantity
1/2
diced
Quantity
4 cloves
minced
Quantity
2 pounds
shelled (or 1 pound frozen)
Quantity
3 cups
Quantity
1
Quantity
3 sprigs
Quantity
1 teaspoon, plus more to taste
Quantity
1/2 teaspoon, plus more to taste
Quantity
1/4 teaspoon
Quantity
1/2 cup
Quantity
3 tablespoons
Quantity
3
thinly sliced
Quantity
for serving
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| thick-cut baconcut into 1/2-inch pieces | 6 strips |
| yellow oniondiced | 1 medium |
| celery stalksdiced | 2 |
| green bell pepperdiced | 1/2 |
| garlicminced | 4 cloves |
| fresh lima beansshelled (or 1 pound frozen) | 2 pounds |
| chicken stock | 3 cups |
| bay leaf | 1 |
| fresh thyme | 3 sprigs |
| Cajun seasoning | 1 teaspoon, plus more to taste |
| kosher salt | 1/2 teaspoon, plus more to taste |
| freshly ground black pepper | 1/4 teaspoon |
| heavy cream | 1/2 cup |
| unsalted butter | 3 tablespoons |
| green onionsthinly sliced | 3 |
| hot sauce (optional) | for serving |
Set a large Dutch oven or heavy pot over medium heat. Add the bacon pieces and cook slowly, stirring occasionally, until the fat renders out and the bacon turns golden and crispy. This takes about eight to ten minutes. Don't rush it. That bacon fat is liquid gold for building flavor. Remove the crispy bits to a paper towel-lined plate but leave every drop of rendered fat in the pot.
Add the diced onion, celery, and bell pepper to the bacon fat. This is your holy trinity, the foundation of Cajun cooking. Season lightly with a pinch of the Cajun seasoning right now. Cook over medium heat, stirring often, until the vegetables soften and the onions turn translucent, about six to eight minutes. You should smell something wonderful happening.
Push the vegetables to the sides of the pot and add the minced garlic to the center where it can hit the hot fat directly. Let it sizzle for thirty seconds to one minute, just until fragrant. The moment you smell that garlic perfume, stir everything together. Burned garlic is bitter garlic, and there's no coming back from that.
Add the lima beans to the pot, stirring to coat them in all that seasoned fat. Pour in the chicken stock. It should come just about level with the beans. Tuck in the bay leaf and thyme sprigs. Add the remaining Cajun seasoning, salt, and black pepper. Stir once, taste the liquid, and adjust if needed. It should taste well-seasoned now because some of that flavor will mellow as it cooks.
Bring the pot to a gentle simmer, then reduce heat to medium-low. You want lazy bubbles rising every few seconds, not a rolling boil. Cover the pot with the lid slightly ajar and let it cook for thirty to forty minutes. Fresh beans take longer than frozen. Start checking at twenty-five minutes. The beans are ready when they're completely tender and starting to break apart at the edges, releasing their starch into the liquid.
Remove and discard the bay leaf and thyme stems. Pour in the heavy cream and stir gently. Add the butter in pieces, swirling the pot until each piece melts into the beans. The sauce should turn glossy and luxurious, coating the beans like velvet. Taste now. This is your last chance to adjust the seasoning. Add more salt, more Cajun spice, whatever it needs.
Ladle the stewed beans into a warm serving bowl or straight onto plates alongside your main dish. Scatter the reserved crispy bacon bits over the top along with the sliced green onions. Set the hot sauce on the table for those who want a little heat. These beans are meant to be eaten hot, sopped up with cornbread or rice, with people you love around the table.
1 serving (about 280g)
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