Spicy black bean melt

I don’t eat sweet breakfasts, so I’m always on the lookout for an easy, filling but savoury solution.

Enter this mildly spiced black bean melt, which was inspired by an episode of Milk Street where they went to Oaxaca and ate Molletes then went back to the test kitchen to make an Americanized version. They swapped the traditional bun with toast and Mexican cheese with mozzarella.

This sandwich draws on the Milk Street approach, but with several variations, because I’m a loose follower of recipe instructions.

It’s winter in Toronto but these ingredients make me think of warmth and sunshine. I’ve got cherry tomatoes, red onion, cilantro, and lime for the pico de gallo that’s going to top my sandwich. There’s cumin and coriander as well as purchased salsa verde to give heat and interest to the black bean sauce, which will be the base of the sandwich.

Time to chop about 1/4 cup of cilantro, half of which will go into the pico de gallo, the other half goes into the bean sauce.

I mince one quarter of a red onion. Using a serrated knife, I cut a pint of cherry tomatoes into tiny, uniform pieces (one cherry tomato gets halved then quartered). Add the juice of one lime, toss, and let that thing mellow.

Time to make my black bean spread. I adore beans, but the black bean is among my least favourite. It’s probably been a couple of decades since I’ve played with them. My go-to for refried beans is the pinto bean, but the recipe calls for black beans and so I’m all in.

The recipe says I’ll need two cans of black beans and that I should reserve 1/4 cup of the liquid from the cans, and that’s what I do. Into the food processor they go but first, I toast my spices: 1 tbsp cumin seeds (ground in my trusty mortar and pestle) and 1 tbsp ground coriander. It takes less than a minute in a dry fry pan to bring out the warmth of those spices.

The original recipe calls for adobo sauce and red chiles, but I prefer salsa verde—a blend of tomatillos, green jalapeno, onions, coriander, salt & pepper. Instead of whipping this up from scratch I take a shortcut: I use half a cup of Mad Mexican salsa verde, which is always on hand in my fridge. In that goes to perk up those beans.

Cilantro and the juice of one lime gets added and I give the food processor another whirl. It looks fine but it’s awfully liquidy and now I figure out my error: I added the entire 1/4 cup of bean liquid right away and didn’t account for the extra green salsa, which is super liquidy.

How to fix? I throw the beans into a pot and simmer on the stove on medium low heat for about 20 minutes, stirring on the regular. It does the trick.

I’m kind of glad that I made this mistake, because simmering that bean sauce really deepened the spicy flavours, so I’m going to call that a lucky win.

The original version of this sandwich involves Mexican cheese but Milk Street swapped it for a melty mozzarella. I’ve got fontina in the fridge and decide that’s melty enough, so I shred about a half a cup of fontina.

Because I’m doing this sandwich blog as a hobby, my freezer suddenly looks like I’ve become a bread hoarder: I’m keeping about 8 different breads in there to pair with whatever sandwich of the week I decide to build. Today, I’m grateful to have a sturdy, crusty Italian loaf sliced at 1/4″. It’ll be a good base for this sandwich.

Parchment paper goes onto a baking tray. Frozen bread gets brushed with olive oil on both sides, seasoned with salt & pepper, then broiled on both sides to make it nice and crunchy. You need a base that can take the weight of what’s to come.

What’s prettier than golden toast fresh out of the oven? OK, plenty, but this duo looks fetching.

Time to build the sandwich. I’ve got my trio of toppings at the ready: black bean sauce, shredded fontina cheese, pico de gallo.

Black beans go down and I’m happy with the consistency of the spread.

Top that with cheese.

Under the broiler it goes, watching carefully so it doesn’t burn. And they’re done.

Look at that melty goodness. Now for the final touch: spoon on the cool pico de gallo for a fresh, lively contrast and then dig in.

This sandwich has moved black beans up the pecking order. It’s got warmth, richness, and tartness. As a handheld, it’s a messy sandwich but oh so worth it.

I’ve got about a cup of black bean sauce leftover in the fridge which could be a workhorse for quesadillas, burritos, or nachos but I guarantee you, they’re destined to become another toasty bean melt—that sandwich is just that delicious.

Trish Hennessy