A Small-Town Baked Bean Supper

When I was a girl, July 3rd and 4th were spent at my mum's folks' house.  Independence Day was a BIG DEAL on her side of the family, particularly with my Grampa Clyde.  Independence Day was second to no other day in the year, in Grampa's eyes. The two-day celebration of my childhood was something straight out of Smalltown, USA. Come with me down Memory Lane (which is in this case Centre Street), if you will. I promise there's a recipe at the end.

Ham and bean church suppers are a fairly common New England tradition, and back in 1949 the Danvers "Common Supper" (later known as the Highlands' Bean Supper) took it to a whole new level.  WWII was over, and the baby boom was in full swing. Clyde "Boomie" Crofts (my Grampa), Alfred "Firp" Hutchinson (Gramma's first cousin, son of my aforementioned Great-Great-Aunt Margaret) and several others decided that it would be great to have a family-oriented Fourth of July.  The festivities would begin on July 3 with supper on the Common in Danvers Highlands: home-baked beans, ham, cole slaw, homemade cookies and ice cream.  

The first supper attracted about 125 guests.  By the time I was old enough to remember the bean supper, America was celebrating her Bicentennial, and the number of tickets had to be limited to 800, simply due to the size of the Common.  When I was very small, there were rented tables and chairs lined up all over the Common; this gave way a few years later to everyone bringing their own folding chairs and tables, to save on the cost of the tickets.

I remember helping to sell tickets with Gramma and Great-Aunt Sarah up at First Church on sunny weekends in June.  In the week preceding the supper, I'd sometimes help to roll and tie plastic silverware in napkins, and I think one year I helped to pre-butter the dinner rolls.  The coleslaw was mixed by someone on the Supper Committee, in a huge rubbish barrel that was reserved especially for the purpose.  The prescribed way to stir up such a huge amount of slaw was to scrub up and just plunge an arm in as far as possible.

On the afternoon of July 3, I could walk up and down Centre Street, and the aroma of baked beans fairly wafted down the street, emanating from nearly every kitchen on the block including my Gramma Bonnie's, not to mention a slew of my extended family's, as well: Great-Aunt Harriet's, first cousins-twice-removed Edie's (Firp's wife) and Ruth's, and Great-Great-Aunt Margaret's, not to mention everyone I knew from First Church. 

Everyone had a different bean preference - kidney, pea, or yellow-eye - but the basic recipe was the same: molasses, onion, salt, pepper and salt pork were the basics. Many of the cooks had a "secret ingredient," but there was one thing that anyone from a different part of the country would notice right away: traditionally, there's no barbecue sauce or tomato in New England baked beans. They're quite sweet.

By about 5:00, cars were parked up and down Centre Street and around the corners at Hobart Street and Prince Place. Our family was one of the lucky ones. I would leave 74 Centre Street with my parents, grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins, and the whole clan would walk the approximately 400 feet upstreet to the Common, to our reserved seats at the long tables, or to our lawn chairs that were already under one of the huge shady trees near the edge of the Common, thanks to my uncles schlepping them to the Common earlier in the day.

People would start lining up well before the supper officially began, which was always at 6:00 sharp with an invocation by the pastor of either First Church or St. Richard's. Then we'd all shuffle along in line for our ham, beans, coleslaw, dinner roll and beverage. (Those of us who had seen or knew about the coleslaw arm-plunge-and-mix often politely declined it.) You could request what type of beans you'd like, but there was no guarantee you'd get some of your own. This could be bad, if someone had a secret ingredient you weren't fond of, or it could be a wonderful surprise, like the year I got baked beans with pineapple in them. My grandparents scoffed at them, but they were delicious.

Supper was accompanied by a local band, playing patriotic songs and "old favorites." They'd always strike up a "children's march" shortly after dinner, and led the kids in Pied-Piper fashion all over the Common, keeping them busy and out of their elders' hair for a few minutes. Then we'd all get our dessert, which was Hoodsies (half chocolate, half vanilla ice cream cups) or ice cream sandwiches. As the air cooled and shadows lengthened, we'd slowly make our way home to get ready for more fun on the fourth: The Danvers Highlands Horribles Parade (which, my friends, is worthy of a post in and of itself) and a big family picnic.

I've come to learn in the few days since I originally posted that my grandmother's recipe for baked beans is from Durgin Park in Boston; it was the same one her mother and Aunt Margaret used. Gramma's directions on her recipe card are sketchy, at best, so I've done my best to flesh them out. Our family was firmly in the pea bean/navy bean camp, but I'm sure this would work equally well with kidney beans.

Baked Beans

2 pounds pea or navy beans
1/4 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 pound salt pork, scored
1 small onion, chopped
2/3 cup molasses
1/2 cup brown sugar
2 teaspoons dry mustard
4 teaspoons salt
1/2 teaspoon pepper

Check the beans for any stones or dirt and discard. Put the beans in a large bowl; cover with cold water by about 3 inches. Cover, and set aside in refrigerator to soak overnight, 6-8 hours.

Parboil beans in a large saucepan with baking soda: bring to a boil over high heat, reduce the heat so the beans simmer and cook for 30 minutes or until tender. Drain.

Preheat the oven to 300˚F.

Put the beans in a 3.5 - 4 quart ceramic bean pot or covered casserole with the salt pork and the onion. In a medium bowl combine the molasses, mustard, salt and pepper with 2 cups of water, and pour over the beans. If the beans are not covered by the liquid, add more. Cover the pot, and bake for 5-7 hours. Check the beans periodically to make sure they are covered with liquid and if needed add more water to cover.

Serve with ham, hot dogs, or whatever floats your boat...even some cole slaw, as long as you know who mixed it.