There are two kinds of people in this world: people who think baked beans are a side dish, and people who are correct.
Baked beans are not a side. Baked beans are a meal. Baked beans are the moment. And if you are not giving them the love and attention they deserve, I regret to inform you that you are living your life incorrectly.
Which brings me to this recipe: Hot and Smoky Baked Beans from Smitten Kitchen. I made them. I modified them. And now I’m here to tell you that these beans are my new calling.
Let’s Talk About “Modifications”
Listen, the recipe is a gift for this mere mortal, but I am also chaos incarnate in the kitchen (read: forgetful), and went semi-rogue with the recipe:
• Peppers? No. Why? Because I didn’t feel like chopping them. A valid reason. Besides, I got chipotle BBQ sauce. Same diff, right?
• Parsley? Also no. Not because I have anything against parsley, but because I forgot to buy it and then pretended that was an intentional choice.
• Bacon? ABSOLUTELY. Look, I think Smitten Kitchen is a genius, but I saw that note about how bacon “might get leathery” if you cook it in a wet base. And you know what? I ignored it, and I thrived. The bacon gave flavor and was delicious, just like nature intended.
Everything else? Followed to the letter. Because when you throw barbecue sauce, dark beer, molasses, mustard, brown sugar, Worcestershire, and soy sauce into a bowl, you do not mess with that. That’s science.
An Hour in the Oven: A Spiritual Awakening
As these beans baked, they filled my home with the kind of smell that makes people rethink their entire worldviews. Like, if you had walked into my house at that moment and told me I had to commit to eating nothing but these beans for the rest of my life, I would’ve simply nodded and said, “Yeah, that tracks.”
After an hour, the sauce had thickened, the beans had become gloriously sticky and caramelized, and I had achieved baked bean nirvana.
Day Two: The Beans Achieve Their Final Form
Now, here’s the thing: they were great on day one. But on day two?
They transformed.
They deepened.
They became richer, smokier, and unreasonably more delicious, as though they had spent the night reflecting on their choices and deciding to level up.
I don’t know what kind of dark magic was at play here, but I do know this: you should always, always make baked beans a day in advance.
Final Thoughts: I Am Now a Bean Evangelist
These are not just beans. These are the beans.
They are sweet, smoky, spicy, and the kind of thing you will find yourself eating directly from the pan with a spoon while telling yourself you’re just “tasting” them. (You are not. You are eating an entire serving. It’s fine.)
So, do yourself a favor. Make them. Add the bacon. Leave out whatever you feel like. But do not—I repeat, do not—underestimate these beans.
They are coming for your soul. And they will win.
