Spill the Beans #4: McBitty's Bean Burgers
Black beans: The unwanted stepchild of my grocery store canned bean universe.
During LA’s almost-hurricane back in August 2023, I decided to stock up on shelf-stable pantry staples, including several cans of black beans. They went uneaten for over a year, until I finally took it upon myself last summer to make a large Pyrex of cowboy caviar. Using tortilla chips from HomeState, I ate as much of the bowl on my own as I possibly could, until my palate could no longer take it.
Nothing’s exactly wrong with black beans in the realm of taste and nutrition, but they’re my least favorite variety of widely available canned beans. Search for bean recipes and you’ll find a million different uses for chickpeas, cannellini beans, and Northern beans, but most black bean recipes tend to simply scream, “I AM A BLACK BEAN WITH OTHER THINGS ON TOP OR BELOW.” Think creamy frijoles smeared on top of tostadas and various black bean salads, including cowboy caviar.
There are, of course, black bean burgers, including Mark Bittman’s famous recipe, which you can find on NYT Cooking. Also known as McBitty’s Bean Burgers, the plant-based recipe haunts me, because it was the first recipe I ever asked my ex-boyfriend to make. We were going to a vegan potluck, and I was in the process of teaching him how to cook.
He absolutely bungled it. I still remember walking into his apartment, staring at the sad, burnt, nearly inedible black bean patties plated next to the stove. Luckily, my new boyfriend knows how to cook, although we differ on certain cooking fundamentals (me: using a strainer to wash rice, agitating the mixture hard and fast; him: slowly tracing circles through a bowl or rice cooker attachment). I wanted, and still want, a partner who knows how to cook. If only so that when I’m dead tired or unwilling to make a mess in the kitchen, I won’t have to eat gummy, inedible masses of scrambled eggs (“I can cook tonight, babe”) or spend my limited income on the Erewhon hot bar or third-party delivery.
But I digress. We’re here to talk about McBitty’s Bean Burgers, and why you should absolutely make them, vegetarian/vegan or not.
Their bean-y, nutritious deliciousness was foretold by over 3,700 five-star ratings, and indeed, these burgers delivered. Of all the black bean recipes I’ve ever made, it’s the one that transforms the simple ingredient into something novel, interesting and different. It’s an absolute masterclass of a dish that exemplifies the mysterious, wonderful alchemy of (good) home cooking, and a recipe I’d happily recommend for your next summer barbecue or cookout.
Paired with classic burger toppings and a high-quality brioche bun, I hardly missed the meat as I polished off my first black bean burger mere moments after I finished recording the short-form video of the process for Spill the Beans.
My only critique of My McBitty Black Bean Burger Experience is more structural to our society as a whole: As a person who lives alone and eats out several times a week, I often struggle to finish staple grocery items before they go bad, and burger buns are no exception. In an attempt to cut down on food waste, I ended up at Erewhon buying a four-pack of organic, locally made burger buns, which cost the same price as an eight-pack of the same thing at Sprouts. I don’t need eight burger buns, and my freezer doesn’t have room for them. While at Erewhon, I also picked up a pack of Horizon Organic American Singles Cheese Slices, which brought back fond memories of eating cheesy puto and a mug of rich, water-based tsokolate as a child. (Highly recommended as a merienda snack, guys.) The total cost of both? Less than you might imagine.
Furthermore, I discovered that I feel awful if I eat brioche burger buns more than two days in a row. I’m not used to eating bread, let alone milk bread, more than once a week. I ended up eating two out of four patties as burgers, and the other two plain with a little bit of ketchup. During the lockdown days of 2020, when I lived with my mother (who was on a very strange lectin-free diet at the time) and cooked only for myself, I got very wise to understanding that if I needed to be careful about making food that I could eat for several days straight without feeling physically awful afterwards. Back then, my body wasn’t made to eat Maangchi’s cheese buldak or creamy pasta bakes as sustenance for four days straight, and it still can’t do that now.
Since this was meant as a quick, healthyish midday meal before yet another restaurant dinner, I skipped out on attempting to make fries—according to MyFitnessPal one of these black bean cheeseburgers clocks in around 500 calories or so, which is a decent, not-too-filling lunch in my book.
McBitty's Bean Burgers
Makes 4 servings
¼ cup dried, stemless porcini mushrooms (I used an entire bag of Melissa’s)
1 can black beans (I used slightly less than the original recipe, which calls for 2 cups)
2 tsp minced garlic
¾ cup rolled oats
2 tsp chili powder
1 tsp cumin
1 tbsp soy sauce
Salt and freshly cracked black pepper
Porcini soaking liquid
¼ cup chopped cilantro
2 tbsp olive oil or other frying oil of your choice
Soak the mushrooms in hot water for 10 minutes; roughly chop, remove and then save the soaking liquid.
Put the mushrooms, beans, garlic, oats, spices and soy sauce in a food processor with a sprinkle of salt and pepper. Let the machine run until the mixture is combined, not puréed. Add more oats to thicken, or liquid to thin, as needed.
Stir in the cilantro, and let sit for 5 minutes.
Shape into 4 large; let them sit for 5 minutes.
Put the oil in a large skillet over medium-low heat. Cook until crisp on one side, about 5 minutes. Flip and cook until the burgers are crisp on the other side, another 5 minutes or so. Serve atop a brioche bun with the traditional toppings, or alone with a little bit of ketchup.
Thanks for reading Spill the Beans. Next week, I’ll be going fully vegan with a healthy, 100% plant-based recipe made with my friend who’s cutting in mind. My weekly recipe critiques are free to all, but paid subscribers also get access to twice-monthly essays about what it’s really like to be a professional food critic in Los Angeles.