I love tinga.
You love tinga.
Tinga tastes a lot more complex than the simplicity of its parts: canned tomatoes to make it a year-round dish, canned chipotles in adobo, broth, cumin, onions, and garlic. I like adding apple cider vinegar before removing it from the heat to bring some brightness. Ok to ceviche-fy it.
These tinga beans maintain their pretty jackets and hold up to long cooking times while keeping their insides creamy and silky. Put simply, soaking beans in a solution of salt and baking soda yields creamy, cooked beans in less time. Drain, rinse well, and cook for the most velvety texture.
Tinga beans can be slipped into a nixtamal tortilla, on a tostada topped with crema and lettuce, or even as a guisado next to a rice pilaf.
I went big for this recipe and used Royal Corona beans from Rancho Gordo for a more substantial and meaty bite. You can also find them labeled as Gigante or butter beans, or in Mexican markets as alubias, just look for the biggest size you can find. If using a smaller bean, you will need to shorten the cooking time, just taste and test along the way for doneness.
The brined beans cook in the sauce until creamy inside without falling apart. The sauce is well, saucy, thick, and addictive. I serve it with a side of out-of-the-salad bag baby kale (you can also use arugula, Swiss chard, and little gems) and toss them in a crema dressing made with lime zest, juice, and cilantro. It works in the same way lettuce and crema get piled up on a tostada de tinga.
Make this Tinga de Beans for your friends, veg and non-veg. Tell them you brined the beans overnight, and how you only do that for the people you love.
On this tinga de beans mixtape, some tropical neo trova by Rosas from Sinaloa, Roberto Carlos Lange’s Ecuadorian sounds with Helado Negro, and Kevin Kaarl from Meoqui, Chihuahua, to set the mood for a bean club dinner party.