Let’s Talk About Baked Beans… and Why Mine Never Last

Alright, let me set the scene: it’s raining outside, my kitchen’s warm as toast, and I’m elbows-deep in prepping baked beans from scratch. (Honestly, my kids think I’m a bit mad for not just opening a tin, but where’s the fun in that?) I grew up with these beans bubbling away on the stove—sometimes they’d almost glue themselves to the bottom of the pot, but that sticky caramelized bit is still my favorite. Once, when I tried to impress my mates at uni, I accidentally used twice as much molasses. Let’s just say, the taste was…intense. But we ate them anyway, and I learned my lesson.

Why You’ll Actually Want to Make These

I pull this recipe out whenever there’s a family barbecue or, honestly, just when I fancy a bit of nostalgia on a cold weekend. My lot go wild for them, especially if I’ve chucked in a bit of leftover ham. (Full disclosure: I’ve also made it with zero pork for my vegetarian sister, and, actually, it still gets inhaled.) And you know what? Sometimes I burn the onions just a little, but hey, that’s “flavour” isn’t it?

What You’ll Need (Plus My Lazy Swaps)

500g dried navy beans (haricot, cannellini, or even pinto if that’s what you dug out from the back of the cupboard—I’ve tried them all)
1 onion, chopped (if I’m really in a hurry, I use the frozen chopped stuff—life’s too short)
2–3 garlic cloves, minced (or a big old squeeze from a tube, don’t judge)
100g bacon or salt pork, diced (my gran would insist on streaky bacon, but sometimes I just skip it for veggie vibes)
1/3 cup (80ml) molasses or treacle (I sometimes use dark brown sugar if I’ve run out, honestly)
1/4 cup (60ml) tomato ketchup (or a random squirt of tomato paste and a splash of vinegar, in emergencies)
2 tbsp Dijon mustard (English works, or yellow hot dog stuff in a pinch)
2 tbsp brown sugar (or white, but brown gives it that hug-in-a-bowl taste)
Salt and pepper (I go heavy on the pepper, personally)
1–2 bay leaves (completely optional, but I like the herbal note)

How I Actually Make Them (With Occasional Chaos)

Soak the beans overnight in a big pot of water. Or if you forgot, do the quick soak trick: bring beans and water to a boil, turn off heat, cover, let them sit for an hour. (I’ve 100% forgotten to soak and they still work, just take longer. No one died.)
Drain and rinse the beans. Add them to a big pot with fresh water, bring to a simmer, and cook for about 45–60 minutes until they’re just tender. Not mushy! This is where I tend to get distracted and overcook them, but a little extra softness doesn’t hurt.
Meanwhile, in a frying pan, cook the bacon (if using) until it’s just crisping up. Chuck in the chopped onions and garlic, cook till soft and golden. I always sneak a taste here—onions are magic.
Drain the beans (keep a mug of that bean water, you might need it later), then toss them into a big ovenproof dish (or a slow cooker—I know, I said oven, but sometimes I cheat).
Add the onion-bacon-garlic mix, molasses, ketchup, mustard, brown sugar, bay leaves, and plenty of salt and pepper. Stir it all up; if it looks dry, splash in some bean water. It should look a little soupy now (trust me, it thickens as it bakes—though the first time I panicked and added extra water… soup city).
Bake, uncovered, at 150°C (300°F) for 2 to 3 hours, giving it a stir now and then and adding a bit more bean water if it looks like it’s turning into brick mortar. Or, if using a slow cooker, go low and slow for 6–8 hours. (This is when I forget about it for a bit and come back to something glorious.)
Taste, add more salt/sugar/whatever makes you happy. Eat hot, or fridge them (I think they’re even better the next day, if you can wait that long!)

Some Notes I’ve Learned the Hard Way

If you forget to soak the beans, just cook them longer and add more water. I’ve done it loads of times and nobody’s noticed.
Molasses can be a bit bossy—start with less, taste as you go. (Yes, I once made beans fit for a treacle sponge.)
Don’t stress if the beans split a bit. Actually, that’s how you know they’re homemade, right?
If you want a deeper flavor, pop in a teaspoon of instant coffee. Seriously. I saw it on Serious Eats and it’s magic.

Experiments and the One That Went Awry

Maple syrup instead of molasses is cracking for a lighter, sweeter bean—my Canadian mate swears by it.
Once tried adding chopped apple for “autumn vibes”—honestly, not my best idea. Bit weird. Stick to the classics.
Switch up the beans! Butter beans are lovely, but black beans made the sauce look a bit like tar, so maybe not for the in-laws…

What Kit Do You Really Need?

Look, ideally a big Dutch oven or casserole dish is perfect, but I’ve made these in a battered old saucepan with a lid balanced on top. (Once, I used my slow cooker and it practically did the work for me—so, yes, essentials are… flexible.) If you don’t have an ovenproof pot, just use a regular saucepan and transfer to any baking dish for the oven bit.

How to Store (But They Disappear Fast!)

Stick leftovers in an airtight container in the fridge. They’ll keep 3–4 days, but honestly, they never survive that long at my place. (I’ve even frozen portions—beans are forgiving like that.) Warm gently on the stove with a splash of water to bring them back to life.

This Is How We Serve ‘Em (Your Family Might Do It Differently)

I love piling these beans onto thick, buttered toast—proper crusty stuff if you can get it. Or next to grilled sausages at a barbecue (with a squeeze of brown sauce, don’t @ me). Sometimes, just a fried egg on top and a mug of tea—simple pleasures, mate.

Lessons I Learned the Hard Way (So You Don’t Have To)

I once tried cranking up the oven to “speed things up”—bad move, dry beans, sad dinner. Low and slow, trust me.
Stir now and then, or you’ll get a crust on top (unless you’re into that kinda thing).
Taste as you go, because every batch of beans seems to want a little something different.

Your Baked Beans FAQs—Because People Actually Ask!

Can I use canned beans? Sure, but the flavor isn’t quite the same. If you’re in a mad rush, go for it. Just cut baking time in half. (And, um, skip the soaking bit…)
Are they vegan? Yep, if you skip the bacon, or use a smoky vegan alternative. Actually, I think the molasses gives plenty of depth by itself.
Can I freeze them? Absolutely. They freeze well—I just let them cool, portion them out, and they’re good for a month, maybe more. Thaw in the fridge, then reheat gently. Like I said, though, they rarely last long enough around here!
What if I don’t have molasses? Brown sugar and maple syrup work a charm. Even golden syrup in a pinch, though it’s a bit sweeter. (I found out the hard way that honey gives it a weird aftertaste, so maybe skip that one.)
Do I really need to pre-cook the beans? I mean, technically, yes, but I’ve been known to just whack everything in the slow cooker. It all sorts itself out eventually.

Oh, and if you’re after more old-school comfort food, I really rate BBC Good Food’s shepherd’s pie—absolute classic. Anyway, beans: try ’em, tweak ’em, and let me know if you discover a trick I haven’t stumbled on yet (always game for a new kitchen adventure, even if it goes pear-shaped!).