Trying to get Maynard Stanley (pictured) to give up his recipe for beanhole beans is like pulling hen’s teeth or maybe herding cats, as I chase facts and tidbits of information around and around in a rather fruitless attempt to pull
it all together.
I’m actually sitting on a log in the dark woods behind the Hannaford’s parking lot in Camden. It’s 11 o’clock, the night of the Perseid meteor showers, and as Maynard stirs the coals of a deep wood fire, glittering sparks fly up as if to join with the falling stars overhead.
Maynard is a critter catcher by profession, meaning he captures and disposes of invasive animals, from ubiquitous raccoons and squirrels to, maybe, moose and even bear. But his passion is bean-hole beans and he is an expert on this
old-fashioned technology that, most folks admit, produces the best Maine baked beans of all.
The pit is deep and regularly lined with carefully placed flat stones. The fire, of mostly oak and maple logs, was lit that afternoon and tended throughout the evening by volunteers at the Conway House, a late 18th century historic farmhouse that is said to be the home of the first settler in Camden. Marlene Hall, executive director of the house, has arranged all this in an effort to reproduce the historic foodways of coastal Maine. And what could be more historic than bean-hole beans?
“It’s basically just an in-ground oven,” Maynard explains. Whether settlers learned this from the Indians or vice versa is a moot point. But it’s an efficient way to produce food for a multitude and that’s exactly what Maynard
and Marlene are hoping for—perhaps not a multitude but at least a hundred or so lucky fair-goers at the fourth annual Maine Fare in Camden the weekend of September 12th. That night, around supper time, they plan a meal of beanhole beans, and trimmings—pit-roasted pork, cabbage salad, cornbread, and other traditional go-withs.
The beans Maynard uses are yellow-eye, one of the preferred Maine varieties for baked beans (others are Jacob’s cattle beans, soldier beans, and sometimes sulfur beans—small round creamy-yellow beans that are hard to find even in
Maine). He soaks them overnight, then transfers them to a big, deep Dutch oven, made of black iron, with an inset lid on which coals get piled to seal the pot in the oven’s heat.
“Salt pork?” I ask. “That’s what my mother always put in.”
Maynard nods wisely.
“Molasses?”
Another nod.
“Clove and cinnamon, I expect.” But that evokes no response beyond a slight narrowing of the eyes.
“No garlic, I imagine.”
“Oh, rilly?” He mimics surprise and I think, hmm, bet he puts just a little bit of garlic in there. But he’s not telling.
When the fire is to his liking—that is, the burning logs have been pulled out of the pit, leaving a bed of coals that is more than a foot deep—Maynard and his wife Norma carefully lower the Dutch oven into the pit, then shovel coals over
and around the pot until it is completely covered. Next a heavy sheet of steel is lowered to cover the top of the pit completely and then Maynard and volunteer Frank Carr shovel earth over the steel sheet to seal the oven totally. “They’ll
boil like crazy for four hours or so, then simmer another four hours,” Maynard explained, “and all that time the beans are drawing in the flavor, making them tasty.”
Soon little plumes of fragrant smoky steam start to curl up from the pit, filling the woods with the unmistakable aroma of baking beans. Reluctantly, we pack our goods and head off to let the beans bake quietly in their in-ground oven. Tomorrow, around noontime, they’ll be served, transformed from hard little pellets of dried bean to elegant, delicate, tender nuggets of flavor. “Way I look at it,” Maynard offers as a parting shot, “there’s no such thing as global warming. It’s just a lot of people making beanhole beans.”
Mainefare’s Beanhole Supper
Saturday, September 12, 5-7 p.m.
All inclusive tickets: $20/person adult, $8/child 12 or younger
Location: Conway House, Camden (map)
Buy tickets here
Keynote Panel will address this topic: “Can Maine Feed Itself“.