Pickled jalapeno rings, the most important part of sports arena and movie theater nachos everywhere.  Hell, all nachos, really, provided they aren’t too spicy.  Like the one mexican pizza I once ate whose 100000 jalapeno rings were so spicy I still couldn’t eat it after picking them all off.

That’s the thing about jalapenos, though — you never really know how hot they will be.  And when I have a whole crisper jar full of them (generous thanks to FIL’s chile-filled garden), you need to think creatively to use them all up.  Sure, bacon-wrapped stuffed jalapenos are the first thing that comes to mind.  And a batch of Jalapeno-Cheddar Corn Muffins was delicious alongside White Chicken Chili.  But what else?

Pickled, duh!

This is based on David Lebovitz’s recipe, but with some modifications in the brine and preparation of the peppers.  I also opted to can mine in half-pint jars for eating all winter long.  I wrote my canning instructions below, but if you’re canning anything please, PLEASE read up on food safety issues on the USDA canning website.  You don’t want botulism toxins in your cans, trust.

 Pickled & Canned Jalapeno Rings

• 1 pound fresh jalapeno peppers, washed (see Note)
• Whole cloves garlic, peeled, one large or two small per jar
• 2 cups water
• 2 cups white distilled vinegar
• 3 tablespoons sugar
• 3 tablespoons coarse salt, such as kosher
• 2 bay leaves
• 2 tablespoons whole coriander seeds (or 2 tsp ground coriander)
• 2 tablespoons black peppercorns

Wash all jalapenos thoroughly and slice off tops.  Slice jalapenos into 1/4″ thick rounds.  (NOTE: If you want less spicy peppers, put the rounds into a colander and rinse under your faucet’s sprayer to remove many of the seeds and membranes, where the spice lives.)

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Pack jalapenos into half-pint jars, pressing them in pretty tightly but leaving about 3/4″ headspace.  Add garlic cloves.

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In a small saucepan, bring water, vinegar, sugar, salt, bay leaves, coriander and peppercorns to a boil, stirring until sugar dissolves.  Remove from heat.  Pour brine into jars, leaving 1/2″ headspace.  (Leftover brine can be used to quick pickle cucumbers or carrots.)

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Wipe rims of jars and seal.  Place in a large pot and cover with water by at least 1″.  Bring to a rolling boil and cook (“process”) for 10 minutes at a full boil.  Remove jars from water and allow to cool thoroughly.

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Check the lids to make sure the flat part is concave (you will hear the lids “pop” down as they cool).  Tighten rings and store in a cool, dark place for up to a year.

View the original post here…

Just wanted to give you photographic evidence of the awesomeness of this chili.  Which, I will have readers note, I originally published a year ago.  Then, a few weeks ago, I got a newsletter from America’s Test Kitchen promoting their great technique for making a thick, unctuous (great word) white chili…and it was my method!

Now, in no space in my addled mind do I think that I was the inventor of this technique.  Instead, it was really cool to see something I came up with on my own as a method promoted by the nerdiest of all food nerds, Christopher Kimball.  It made me feel like, in some tiny, eensy way, that I know what I’m doing in the kitchen.  Sometimes.

And, in the pursuit of honesty, I’ve actually made this chili again since this second post of it.  It’s that good.   Make it today.

White Chicken Chili

Back when it was still summer, and we still were struggling with what to do with copious zucchini (not to mention the over-ripe bananas I always seem to have lying around) I came up with this recipe for Banana-Zucchini Muffins.

Alas, it is not summer anymore.  Where did the time go?  Oh, yes, that’s right.  I spent over two weeks in South America with my love, celebrating our one year wedding anniversary with an indescribable honeymoon to Machupicchu, Cusco, Lima, and Rapanui (Easter Island).  We climbed mountains, drove ATVs across deserted islands, scuba dove (well, half of us did, as this half was banned from the water due to a sinus cold) and drank enough Cusqueno to fill a hot tub.

The food was an adventure, too.  Andean cheese – tangy and creamy, great in a hard roll for breakfast or melted on a pizza; alpaca – gamey and light, sort of like venison; tacu tacu, a strange fried mishmash of rice and lima beans; “rape rape,” the polynesian/rapanuian name for langostinos, or little lobster-like crustaceans plucked from the middle of the Pacific; Chicha, the native Andean drink of fermented corn; so much fresh fish and ceviche, and so much more.  The only thing I didn’t try was Cuy – yes, guinea pig – I just couldn’t bring myself to order the little rodent, which is served whole with teeth, claws, and all.  Another time.

Following up el Honeymoon-o with a weeklong work trip, several out-of-town friend visits, and some other of life’s concerns meant that I rarely cooked over the last month.  Forgive, friends, forgive.  For I am back now, and ready to welcome in winter the best way I know how – by eating myself into a winter coat of chub.  Back to the muffins…

Still, they are indeed delicious, and adaptable too.  I bet you could sub in shredded apple, Fall and Winter’s favorite storage fruit, for the zucchini with great results.  Even applesauce would work in a pinch – the moisture, texture, and fiber is what we’re going for here.  A scoop of wheat germ would amp up the healthfulness, too, if you are so inclined.  And if not, a buttery, nutty streusel topping would taste pretty, pretty, pretty good too.

Banana-Zucchini Bread with Raisins (or other dried fruit)

Yield: 1 loaf or about 12 muffins

• 2 cups all-purpose flour (can substitute whole wheat flour for up to half)
• 1 Tbsp baking powder
• 1 tsp salt
• 1 tsp cinnamon
• ½ stick of butter or margarine, softened
• ½ cup sugar
• 1 egg
• 1 tsp vanilla
• 1 cup very ripe bananas, mashed (about 2 bananas)
• 1 cup shredded zucchini
• ¾ cup raisins, dried blueberries, or dried cranberries

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Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Grease and flour a loaf pan or, alternatively, line a muffin tin with liners.

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Mix flour, baking powder, salt and cinnamon in a medium bowl; stir well and set aside.

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Using a stand or hand-held mixer, cream butter and sugar together until fluffy.  Add egg and vanilla; continue to beat until pale yellow and creamy.

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Turn the mixer to low (or switch to a spatula) and add half the mashed bananas and ½ the zucchini.  Mix well.  Add half the flour and mix until just combined.  Repeat with remaining banana/zucchini and remaining flour.  When the last of the flour is mostly incorporated, stir in the raisins. Continue to stir until just all the flour is incorporated, but try not to over-mix.  (The batter is on the stiff side – more scoop-able than pourable.)

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Spoon batter into prepared loaf pan/muffin tin.  If using the former, spread the batter evenly to the corners and smooth the top.

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Bake loaf for 45-55 minutes, or until browned on top and a tester comes out mostly clean with a few crumbs.  Bake muffins for 25-35 minutes, or until they pass the same test.

It’s that time of year again – the late summer zucchini season!  (Or, it was when I wrote this.  A long honeymoon, long work trip, some of life’s punches to the face, and the general malaise that accompanies the seasonal transition into winter have seriously depleted my blogging energy.  But, I shall return triumphantly!  Until then, bear with my out-of-season posts until I catch back up on life…)

Anyone with a garden, a relative with a garden, a CSA, or a neigbor with a garden knows what I mean.  The zucchinis are reaching baseball bat size right about now, and gardeners are generously foisting them off by the bucketful to whomever will take them.

You know, zucchini gets a bad rep sometimes – almost like the “fruitcake” of vegetables – that everybody gives but nobody wants.  And that’s unfair, because zucchini truly can be delicious.  It’s just that it grows so fast, that all of a sudden what was a few pretty yellow flowers is an army of zucchini logs begging for a home.  And, true, if you don’t treat it right, it can turn into a tasteless pile of mush.  But if you give it some love, it will love you back.  Bow-chicka-bow-wow.

Personally, the first thing I do when I get a zucchini overload is to grill it.  Thick-cut slices, cubes on skewers, small halves – just drizzle them with olive oil, season with anything you want (the blank canvas of this squashy veggie can take on any flavor, from chili to herb to curry and more) and grill until charred and tender.  It’s actually surprisingly delicious simply sauteed with olive oil, lots of garlic, and a little onion and herb.  What else?

Creativity, that’s what we need.  Zucchini in baked goods is nothing new – shredded zucchini melts into quick breads (keep an eye out for an upcoming zucchini muffin) and even cakes (one day, i’ll post my chocolate zucchini cake recipe here for you all), adding moisture without any texture or fat.  Zucchini Lasagna is a delicious, lighter take on regular lasagna, and in fact I have one sitting in my fridge right now waiting to be baked.

But I was looking for a side dish, not a sweet or main, and I wasn’t quite sure where to start.  Try Google-searching “zucchini sides” and you’ll see the wide-eyed wonder at the 10000000000 unhelpful results.  So I headed to a trusted food blog to see her take on it – yes, the amazing Deb of SmittenKitchen.com.  And, as always, she didn’t fail me.

Not only did she not fail me – she gave me a delicious recipe AND a memory of an awesome Disney movie about a little Rat that could.  This is a version of ratatouille, the classic French vegetable stew, as envisioned by Ratatouille, the eponymous, incorrigible rat who is determined to be a great chef someday, despite his rodent status.  His re-envisioned ratatouille is central to the movie, and you should all watch it.  The end.

I followed Deb’s advice exactly, since girl knows what she’s talking about.  Except, I didn’t have big peppers – only small – so I had to improvise with how I layered the peppers in there.  And, I put oregano in the tomato sauce, because I just got Mexican oregano for the first time and me loves it, so I put it in everything vaguely tomato-y or Italian-y.

And I took some liberties with baking – baking it in our toaster oven instead of the regular oven, because it was durn hot the day I made it.  AND I actually baked it, refrigerated it for two days, then heated it up for dinner (this is how I make things like this on a weeknight – i don’t).  The resulting dish was, honestly, delicious.  The veggies meld their flavors with one another, the sauce unifies it into something more than just roasted squashes, and it somehow becomes more than the sum of its parts.  I can totally see eating it, like Deb suggest, as a main dish over couscous.  And I can’t wait to eat my leftovers at lunch!

Ratatouille a la Ratatouille

Thanks to Smitten Kitchen once again for providing a great recipe!  The adjusted-for-quantity version below serves 4-6 as a side, and probably just 2-3 as a main dish as Deb suggested, over couscous and topped with goat cheese.

• 1 cup tomato sauce
• 1 large garlic clove, minced
• 1/2 cup chopped onion
• 1/2 tsp oregano
• 1 medium zucchini
• 1 medium summer squash
• 1 small or japanese eggplant
• 1 large (long, if possible) red or orange pepper
• fresh thyme
• salt & pepper

Hello again, Internet friends!  It has been a long time….

You see, I went and got hitched last summer, and we decided to “save” (and save up for) our honeymoon for a year and to take that special vacation as a one-year anniversary celebration, and to go all-out somewhere really special.

Having just returned from an unbelievable, exotic, amazing, mesmerizing, delicious, strange, wonderful trip through Peru (Lima, Cuzco, Machu Picchu) and Easter Island, Chile, I’m ready to get back to familiar things – and foods!  Not that we didn’t love South American foods – all sorts of exotic fruits and juices; the tangy, creamy andean cheese; more fresh fish and ceviche than you could ever hope to try; the strange – alpaca, guinea pig, tacu tacu – and the all-to-familiar – pizza and mcdonalds everywhere!.

It was, as I said, absolutely amazing, and I’ll have more to say once my thoughts organize themselves (particularly my new adventures in CANNING!).  But until then, here’s a recipe to tide you over, a quick and easy way to fake a fancy roast on the grill by brine-ing and glazing a pork tenderloin on the grill.  Brine, brine, brine.  That’s the secret to this awesome recipe.

While many cuts of pork are, like steak, richly marbled with fat, it earned it’s reputation as ‘the other white meat’ because (of marketing) there are plenty of lean, dry cuts of pork that end up on our plates.  Think of anytime you’ve had an overcooked pork chop – the dry, tough, pasty meat that can’t be cut through or chewed up without serious jaw work.

Because for many years we feared trichinosis, pork is usually thought of like chicken in that it must be cooked through, period, with error falling squarely on the side of overcooking it.  As a result, unless you’re talking about slow-cooked barbecued pork shoulder, meaty country ribs, or other fatty cuts, pork is more often than not a saraha-like eating experience.

But that all is changing, as experts – including, now, the FDA – agree that trichinosis is no longer a risk – thus, pork has entered the realm of undercooked meats.   I was shocked the first time a server asked me how I wanted my pork chop cooked (uh…till it’s done?) but now am slowly, slowly wrapping my brain around this.

Still, the texture of rare pork is….gross.  It’s chewy and funky; it isn’t a meat I want carpaccio’ed or tartare’d.  But, cooked to medium or higher, or like I like it with the barest blush of pink in the center, you can cook the lean cuts of pork without having to worry about them drying out and toughening up.

If this is still too much for you, all is not lost.  Brine will help you out!

Brining meat is a technique often associated with poultry, most famously Thanksgiving turkeys.  It involves soaking the uncooked bird or roast in a salty, and often spiced, solution for several hours or even days.  Because of osmosis (I think; my tenth grade chemistry teacher would be so proud), the salty solution penetrates into the bird, bringing flavor and moisture to the meat.

And, best part, it’s easy.  I mixed about 1/4 cup of salt, brown sugar, and some crushed peppercorns into 3 cups of warm water, and soaked the pork tenderloin for about 30 minutes.  I read some guides that said the tenderloin would turn mealy if left in the brine any longer, although I’ve seen tougher pork cuts brined for much longer!

Once it was brined, it went onto a hot grill and was glazed with a quick peach-whiskey sauce that had been reducing on the stove.  Even though I probably grilled it a smidge too long (no pink in this loin), the brining process kept the meat tender and juicy.  Perfection!

Brined Pork Loin with Peach-Whiskey Sauce

• 1 1.5-2-pound pork loin, trimmed
• 3 cups warm water
• 1/4 cup salt
• 3 Tbsp brown sugar
• 1/2 Tbsp butter
• 1 shallot, minced
• 1 large garlic clove, minced
• 1/4 cup peach preserves
• 3 Tbsp whiskey
• 2 Tbsp apple cider vinegar
• 3 Tbsp ketchup
• 1 Tbsp molasses
• 2 Tbsp water
• 1/8 tsp red pepper flakes
• 1 medium-to-large zucchini, sliced into 1/2″ rounds
• 2 slightly underripe peaches, sliced into 1/4″ rounds (it’s OK to leave the pit in teh middle slice – it will pop out easier once its grilled)
• 2 tsp vegetable oil

Here’s a quick salad to toss together in those late summer days when the produce is bountiful, the vegetables crisp, the sun sinking lower into the sky, and the thought of turning on the stove is less of an abomination.  Because you need the stove, if only ever so breifly.  But, trust me, it’s worth it.

The idea for the recipe came from a Martha Stewart Food recipe with a similar list of ingredients, but a much simpler dressing (only lemon juice and oil, if I recall).  Sissy tried it, liked the flavors together, but thought it needed…more.  More flavor, more ooomph.  She said she thought I could make a better version.  Me, do something better?  I can’t disappoint!

The resulting salad is packed with fresh, bright flavor – the spicy radishes, the briney olives, the tangy peppers and vegetal green beans, all unified by the richness lemon-dijon dressing.  It’s a perfect light summer meal, with a glass of minerally white wine, to help you savor the earlier-sinking sunset.

Tuna & Green Bean Salad

Serves 4 as a light lunch, and-6 as a side dish, easily, maybe more.

• 1 large can solid white tuna in water, thoroughly drained
• 1/2 lb green beans, trimmed and cut into 1″ pieces
• 3/4 cup sliced radishes
• 4-6 pepperocini peppers, thinly sliced
• 3 Tbsp chopped kalamata olives
• 1/2 small white onion, thinly sliced
• 2 Tbsp olive oil
• 1 Tbsp dijon mustard
• juice of 1/2 a lemon
• 1 Tbsp balsamic vinegar
• pinch of sugar

This past weekend was A and my first anniversary as marrieds.  But it was also the sixth anniversary of our first date, and well past the seventh anniversary of our first meeting each other.

Yes, we got all googly-eyed and professed our undying love for each other…..or not.  We’re not really that kind of kids.

Instead, we had a nice quiet dinner at Leopold, a newish Belgian restaurant in our ‘hood, which is oh-so-appropriate seeing as we got engaged in Belgium almost two years ago.  It’s focused on small, sharable plates and more adventurous cuts and preparations of meat - veal sweetbreads, rabbit rillettes, steak tartare, merguez poutine,  escargot.  Some may say, eh, I say, ooooohhhhmmmmmmmm.

A couple glasses of a crisp, minerally French sauvignon blanc for me, a Finch’s pale ale and Allagash white for A gave us a good start to rosy-cheeked happiness.  We started with an order of frites, accompanied by a perplexingly named (though delicious) samurai sauce.  It seemed an aioli spiked with some red pepper and something tart, like caper brine.  We then split three dishes – seared scallop with summer corn “risotto”, smoked rabbit with plum glaze and mustard spaetzel; and braised short rib with heirloom tomatoes and potato cake.

The creamy, light yet rich corn “risotto” and perfectly bouncy scallops were the highlight of the night.  We loved the rabbit under the glaze, but found the exterior to be too heavily smoked for the rather delicate meat (although the glaze itself was lovely).  The spaetzel was addictively chewy, if not overwhelmingly mustardy, and the candied leeks and onions nestled throughout were a tasty surprise.  We also chowed rather remarkably fast through the short rib, which was meltingly tender and mouth-wateringly beefy, but were confused about the bland, dense potato cake.  It seemed an afterthought, a hasty potato dish that hadn’t been tasted or tested.  Good thing we still had frites left (OH, and they were delicious frites) and some drinks to finish.

All in all, a delicious, upscale meal that departs from our more usual meals, which center around our grill and whatever I can throw onto a pizza or into a taco.  Yet, on the date itself we went back to the roots of this food nerd and had an all-out appetizer feast that lasted well into the darkening hours.

Going clockwise from 9:00, we had seared smoked turkey sausage; ”stripey jack cheese, which is a layer-cake of red Leicester, double Gloucester, cheddar, Cotswold, and one other; peppered salami; Trader Joe’s creamy hummus; a veggie spread of grape tomatoes, sliced cucumbers, carrots and broccoli; Carr’s water crackers; and an antipasti mix of pepperocini, french olives, kalamatas, roasted peppadews, and artichoke hearts.

Oh, but that’s not all, friends.

Oh yeah.  Those are definitely bacon-wrapped dates (with a maple-balsamic glaze) sitting there all sexy-like next to the shrimp cocktail.  If there is a better anniversary present than bacon dates, well, I don’t want to know about it.

We topped off the night by feasting on a batch of my Grandma’s Cheesecakes, which were the dessert at our wedding one year ago today.  Sated into utter oblivion (a bottle of TJ South African wine helped in that department), we slept happy, content, and full.

With August sunsetting and summer drawing to a close, this time of year can be bittersweet.  The light, the warmth, the long lazy days are numbered and limited now, instead of seeming an endless stretch into the future.  But, oh, the light!  The yellow, magical late summer sun!  The lush greenery and brimming gardens!  Late summer is the best part of summer, in my eyes, and perhaps more so because it is fleeting.  And once it goes, the crisp,  smokey, red days of Autumn are following right behind them.  Perfect.

Either I read some metaphysical poetry this morning, or I’ve gone all sappy-eyed on you.  Regardless, I still have an appetite – and boy does this Steakhouse Flank Steak satisfy it.

This is a dish to impress, internet friends.  With all the salty, meaty, rich and bold flavors of a steakhouse feast – without the big ol’ price tag.  The marinated, deeply beefy cut is designed for the grill.  It needs nothing more than some ripe balsamic tomatoes (mix sliced tomatoes with salt, pepper, olive oil, and balsamic vinegar) and garlicky sauteed spinach (warm sliced garlic cloves in  olive oil in a skillet; add baby spinach, salt & pepper and toss to coat; cook until spinach is barely wilted) to round out the flavors.  And, DAMN, it’s good.

And isn’t that just the best thing about a great steak? You don’t need to dress it up or bring its good-looking friends along to the party.  It doesn’t need to be gussied up or enrobed.  A good steak – and the beefy, hunky flank steak is one of the best – just wants to shine on its own.

This version gets a little pampered before grilling, however.  It’s marinated in a mixture of umami-rich ingredients that together form the best version of A-1 sauce I’ve ever tasted (be warned: it’s strong).  Salty, funky, spicy and tangy, it’s a big flavor on the palate.  Yet the richness of the steak still manages to outshine it, making me come back for slice after slice until an embarrassingly small amount of our 2-lb steak remained on the cutting board…

Based on this recipe from Serious Eats, with modifications basically because I didn’t have quite everything they called for.  My slightly altered version is below, or visit Serious Eats for the original.  Either way, eat this steak soon.

Steakhouse Flank Steak

• 1/3 cup Worcestershire sauce
• 3 Tbsp cup soy sauce
• 1 Tbsp sugar
• 1 Tbsp fish sauce
• 2 cloves garlic
• 1/2 Tbsp molasses
• 2 Tbsp Dijon mustard
• 2 Tbsp ketchup
• 2 Tbsp vegetable oil
• 2 tablespoons chopped chives
• 2 Tbsp minced red onion or shallots
• 1 whole flank steak, about 2 pounds

A quick weekday dinner Mommie sent me.  She tore it out of a magazine – Midwest Living, perhaps? – and said she and Daddy-O had really liked it.

So, of course, because mom knows best and mom’s cooking trumps all, I rushed to make it as soon as … I could eat pasta again.  Stupid south beach whole grains limited sugar diet….

Ignore the spinach. I have no idea why it's in the picture...

I had some homemade pesto lingering around the back of the freezer, but not quite enough to toss the pasta.  So I pillaged my baby basil plant, scrounging up some tiny, pale green leaves to add in to the existing pesto along with some parmesan cheese and olive oil – gotta stretch what you got, especially when you forgot to stop at the store to pick up pesto to complete the meal as planned…

The halfhearted pesto I used might be the reason I found this good, but lacking “punch” – but I’m blaming whole wheat pasta.  Yes, it’s healthier than white flour pasta.  Yes, it’s full of fiber and good things.  But it’s also lacking in semolina flour….and, if you ask me, it cooks up tough and pasty, not toothsome and tender the way good pasta should be.

But all in all, proper pesto and regular pasta would have made me like this a lot more, as would a squeeze of lemon juice and an extra dusting of parmesan right at the end.  Til next time…

Green Pesto Pasta with Sausage

• 10 oz whole wheat bow-tie or orieccheti pasta
• 1 cup frozen peas
• 2 cups green beans, trimmed and cut into 1″ pieces
• 1 tsp olive oil
• 2 turkey or chicken sausage links, thinly sliced
• 1/2 cup pesto (I made my own, but you sure don’t have to!)
• 1/2 cup parmesan cheese
• 1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved

AKA, Five Bean Salad; Marinated Bean Salad; or, for those into the whole brevity thing, Bean Salad.

It’s a straightforward salad of vinegary, tangy beans, briney olives and sharp onion that combine into a fresh & refreshing, protein-packed and low-fat side dish worthy of any barbecue around.  Its tartness is the perfect counterpoint to rich, fatty grilled meats and sausages.  There are versions of it sitting in every deli case across middle America.  But, please, homemade is always best – and likely cheapest and healthiest too.  

First of all, let’s talk about oil.  I’m of the mindset that you don’t need a lot of oil to make a good vinaigrette dressing.  That 3-to1 ratio of oil to vinegar that many swear by seems, to me, just entireily too much oil.  I get that it’s rich and silky, that it carries flavor in it to all parts of the dish – but it’s also greasy at worst, heavy on the tongue at best, and full of calories.  I prefer many salads to be crispy and lighter, instead of weighed down by oils.

A Tablespoon or two of oil is usually more than enough for the biggest bowl of salad in my house – but to each their own.  I can probably get by with so little oil because, well, I love vinegar.  I love it.  I drown steamed veggies in it; I eat pickles like candy.  I soak french fries in malt vinegar and broccoli in red wine vinegar.  Strawberries or watermelon and balsamic?  Oh, yes, please.

Which is why I like this salad even more on day 2, 3 and 4, when the vinegary dressing has time to really penetrate the beans and quick-pickle them.  It becomes almost like a relish – a great side dish to a rich grilled sausage or heavier.  Since I like that sour, tart tang more than the average person, you may want to adjust the ratio in the recipe below to suit your own taste.  Or, try adding another teaspoon of sugar to take the vinegary edge off, instead of adding more oil.

Either way, try it out.

Three Bean Salad

Those paying attention to the photos see that this is supposed to be FIVE bean salad, and that I played with the dressing ratios a bit.  Why three beans?  Well…I didn’t have green or wax beans, fresh or canned, so I left them out.  But feel more than free to add them in, experiment, etc.   That’s the fun of cooking!

• 1 cup frozen lima beans, thawed
• 1 can white beans, rinsed and drained (great northern or cannelini)
• 1 can black beans, drained and rinsed
• 1/4 cup red onion, diced
• 3 Tbsp chopped olives (kalamata, green, black or a combination)
• 1/4 cup red wine vinegar
• 1 Tbsp balsamic vinegar
• 2 Tbsp olive oil
• 1 tsp dry mustard
• 1/2 tsp ground coriander
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 1/2 tsp pepper