Bean and Legume

Where's the beef? Who cares? The spiced beans in these festive folds contain fiber, a blood sugar regulator that fends off cravings, as well as protein, which builds lean muscle. Satisfied taste buds and a trimmer you—check and check!

This salad is perfect for a weekend lunch or a quick weeknight dinner.

Satisfy a hankering for high-fat Alfredo sauce with this light, no-dairy version. Oat milk and cashew butter stand in for heavy cream, keeping calories and saturated fat low.

Passover falls at the cusp of spring, and fresh asparagus on the table is one of the best ways to usher in the new season. Combined with the snap of green beans and sautéed with the silky, mild bite of green onions, it becomes a welcome pop of color and texture to the plate.

Alain Ducasse— The lobster must of course be alive, its claws firmly closed with elastic bands. After plunging it in boiling water, keep the lid on the cooking pot to avoid splashes.
Paule Neyrat— The flesh of the lobster is particularly low in fat but rich in protein. The vegetables are low in calories but full of vitamins and dressed with a yogurt sauce. This is a luxury dish but one that's really low in fat.

The King's Cake (galette des rois), in whatever form it took, with a "bean" baked into it, has been the king of desserts on Twelfth Night, also known as the Feast of Kings or Epiphany in France, since the Middle Ages. In those days, the French King's Cake took different forms depending on the region. It was a brioche topped with candied fruits in Provence, a flat galette with cream in the North, a dry cake in Lorraine, a puff pastry round with an almond flavored filling in Lyon. À Paris, it was a gorenflot, a sort of enriched bread raised with baker's yeast, something like a Polish brioche. The ritual of this shared cake is symbolic of the day of the Epiphany, commemorating the presentation of Jesus to the Magi on the sixth of January, but it is also redolent of other pagan traditions linked to the cult of fertility that was so popular with the Romans. The "bean" hidden inside the cake was originally an actual lima bean, a symbol of renewal and fecundity, before it was replaced by a tiny porcelain figure representing the Christ child, then by a host of trinkets. Today, the marzipan-filled, puff pastry round has gained supremacy almost everywhere. And for good reason—few pastries can give such extended pleasure. How delicious when, under its fine butter coating, the many-layered pastry (milles-feuilles), still warm, encounters the silky, fondant marzipan on the palate—a perfect combination of the puff pastry and grainy, ground almonds. No one knows exactly when this so-called "Parisian" cake was born. The invention of marzipan dates from the sixteenth century. The history should be treated with caution, but it is sufficiently delicious to have been inscribed indelibly in the memory of gourmets. In 1588, an Italian marquis named Murio Frangipani marketed gloves perfumed with almonds. There is nothing surprising about this because perfumers were originally glove makers. The essence of Italian frangipani, about which Catherine de' Medici was passionate, inspired the pastry cooks of the French court to create frangipane cream, an equal mixture of pastry cream and almond cream. King's Cake, whether flavored with fruits or almond cream, is a dessert with a history. Certain Epiphanies have been retained in the annals. For instance, on January 6, 1650, at the Louvre Palace, Anne of Austria and her son Louis XIV indulged in the cake, leaving on the table, as was the custom, a share for the poor, in this case the very part that contained the bean. The next morning, there was "no other king than that of the bean," the king having fled Paris to escape the uprising known as the Fronde. Is it because of this unpleasant memory that the tradition of naming the person who finds the bean as "king" for the day was outlawed during Louis XIV's reign, the custom being officially judged to be too pagan? In 1770, Diderot recounted this anecdote in his Encyclopédie, summarizing it with this amusing aphorism: "Signe Denis, sans terre ni château. Roi par the grâce du gâteau." (The sign of Denis [patron saint of Paris] without land or château, King by the grace of a gâteau.) The joy of eating the crown is all part of the pleasure of enjoying King's Cake once a year, and more....

Umami-rich cheese and chicken stock make an encore appearance, but this time they share the spotlight with high-fiber chickpeas. Adding 1/2 cup of these lean beans to your daily diet can help you cut your consumption of fatty foods, a study in the journal Appetite notes

This Mary Kettilby recipe produces a classic Potage St. Germain. The name comes from the Paris suburb of St.-Germain-en-Laye, where young peas, a rarity in the early eighteenth century, were sown in boxes for early-spring cultivation. The addition of onions and spinach provide a traditional French touch, making this soup a flavorsome beginning for spring menu. Calendulas, also known as pot marigolds, make a lovely garnish for this soup. They were used as both a flavoring and a medicinal herb. According to one source, calendulas could be added to dishes in place of saffron, an affordable alternative in the days before saffron was grown in England. Sprinkle the shredded blossoms over the soup just before serving it. Please note that the calendula/pot marigold should not be confused with the African marigold, which is used as an insect repellent in vegetable gardens.

Korean pickled cabbage, a.k.a. kimchi, provides the spice in these savory fritters, while soaked raw mung beans hold the flourless pancakes together. They're great with or without the dipping sauce and pickled pears.

Featuring paccheri rigati, a ribbed, tube-shaped pasta, this over-the-top casserole cooks in a 9"-diameter springform pan. But feel free to use rigatoni and a 9x9x2" baking dish instead.

Erisheris are thick curries traditionally made with yams or pumpkin, toasted coconut, and whole kidney beans. They are hearty and earthy, with a tropical twist of coconut and curry leaves. My variation, made with sweet potatoes, crosses over beautifully to a fall or winter menu; I've even served it for Thanksgiving. This recipe is part of our menu for Sadhya, a South Indian feast.

I grew up on green beans thoren, and while I'll never tire of its crunchy deliciousness, I think adding corn makes it even better. And even though people don't often associate stir-fries with Indian cooking, this dish is a favorite in Kerala. It's a combination of diced vegetables and coconut, but the key is moistening the coconut so it can soak up the ground spices first. This recipe is part of our menu for Sadhya, a South Indian feast.

Pork and beans never had it so good. This Spanish riff on French cassoulet pairs large, meaty beans with fresh sausages under a breadcrumb crust. Save time by quick-soaking the beans.

This quintessential Kerala vegetable curry marries many of the best ingredients of the region: coconut, curry leaves, green chiles, and a host of tropical vegetables. All the vegetables are cut into batons and poached in a spiced yogurt-coconut sauce. This recipe is part of our menu for Sadhya, a South Indian feast.

This aromatic mixture of split peas and vegetables is a staple in the South Indian diet. It always accompanies favorite snacks such as dosas (lentil crêpes) and idlis (lentil dumplings). A traditional Sadhya feast wouldn't be complete without this flavorful source of protein. Asafetida (a garlicky resin from the sap of a fennel-like plant; it's often used in lentil dishes) and fenugreek provide its pleasantly pungent aroma. This recipe is part of our menu for Sadhya, a South Indian feast.

Mixing up a batch of anko is simplicity itself. This is slightly less sweet than most Japanese versions. Feel free to add more sugar if you like, though this is plenty for me. Although most Chinese sweet bean pastes are sieved for extreme smoothness and incorporate oil or lard for a richer mouthfeel, I prefer this method, which is lighter.

A lot of commercial red bean ice creams are just your basic, junky, mass-produced ice creams made with inferior ingredients like gums and thickeners, with a little of the red-bean paste called anko stirred in. Not so the following: a custard-based, from-scratch ice cream, enriched with enough anko so that you really get both its flavor and the extra creaminess contributed by its starch. The vanilla is optional; some feel it detracts from the red- beaniness, but I think it enhances it. If you want to go to town with this one, serve it in scoops sprinkled with a little matcha (brightly colored powdered green tea), and offer matcha-flavored meringues alongside; you can make them from the egg whites you'll have left over from the ice cream. Those who are allergic to dairy products can make this using canned full-fat unsweetened coconut milk: substitute 4 cups for the milk and cream.

There are countless variations on this much-loved recipe, which has its origins in kosher cooking. By making a meatless (pareve) version of chopped liver, Jews who keep kosher get to enjoy a much-loved dish while sticking to the dietary requirements of nonmeat meals. While this is often served as a Sabbath appetizer, particularly in homes with Ashkenazic roots, and also as a seder dish, novelist Ellen Levine brings it to the annual potluck picnic that gathers together writers and illustrators of children's and young-adult books from all over new England. It's always swiftly scarfed up. As odd as it may sound to prepare a vegetarian spread whose name references an animal organ, somehow this dish lacks the turn-up-your-nose unpleasantness of many pseudo-meat dishes. Maybe this is because its origins are based in authentic foodways. But it could just as well be because it is very versatile and just plain good. as with all home-style dishes, from bouillabaisse to barbecue to gumbo, there are many versions of pareve chopped liver, and whichever one you grew up with is, to you, the one and only. I've attempted to give at least a nod to some of these variations following the main recipe, but this is my take on Ellen's. Try it as a sandwich spread or with crudités; or serve it with crisp crackers, toasted baguette slices, or, at Passover, matzoh.

This is one of the prettiest dishes I have ever made. It’s perfect for a ladies’ lunch, as it’s not too heavy and is extremely elegant looking. Make it ahead of time and serve slightly chilled. You could also substitute chopped cooked shrimp for the crab if you prefer.

Fifteen minutes is all it takes to get this dish on the table and you’ll find everything you need in the pantry or in the freezer—no need to shop! It has a very concentrated tomatoey flavor that I find appealing.