RSS Feed

Jacked sweet potato and baked beans

I haven’t posted anything for a while as I was extremely busy…



As you can imagine, it was hectic…Absolutely mental.

Comfort is what you need when you are off your feet. Comfort food and something to watch.

Have you ever seen ‘After Hours’ by Martin Scorsese? If you haven’t, you should. It’s one of these films which gives me comfort. Even when my day at work seems pointless and boring, and I’m surrounded by people who I’m afraid to turn my back to (they are Brutus’ of my life), I still know that my after hours are not going to be like Paul’s, the main character from the film.

It’s another 80s film mostly shot at night. As I mentioned in my last post, these are the kind of scenes I live for.

The plot is surreal and twisted. Ending (apparently changed few times) is the best you can hope for.  There is nod to ‘Marnie’ by Hitchcock, the whole dialog taken from Kafka’s ‘Before the Law’. Acting is superb and you wouldn’t believe that it was filmed on a tight budget. Because it’s a yuppie’s night adventure on the street’s of New York, it’s been called postmodern Ulysses, and a modern male ‘Alice in Wonderland’ tale.

To me it’s the most magical, crazy film you can watch when you are after hours.

To serve it with, I would propose posh and healthy version of jacked potato and baked beans.

Jacked Sweet Potato and Baked Beans:

sweet jacked potato and baked beans

sweet jacked potato and baked beans

(Serves 2)

2 sweet potatoes

1/2 cup chopped sun dried tomatoes

2 tins of chopped tomatoes (2x400g)

1 tin of butter beans

3 cloves garlic

3 tbsp olive oil

1 tbsp chopped fresh thyme

1 tbsp chopped fresh rosemary

pinch of chilli flakes

smoked paprika

sea salt



1. Start by washing your potatoes, wrap them in tin foil and bake in the oven for 30-40 min in 180C.

2. Heat olive oil in a pot. Add chilli flakes and chopped garlic. Add chopped tomatoes from tins and chopped sun dried tomatoes. Simmer on a low heat. Drain and wash your beans (you can use dried beans, soak them overnight, change water and cook until they are soft), add them to the tomatoes. Add thyme and rosemary. Cook until it thickens. Add salt and pepper to taste and 1/2 tsp of smoked paprika.

3. Unwrap your potatoes from a foil. Sprinkle a bit of olive oil and salt on top and bake them for another 5-10 minutes.

4. Serve potato with baked beans and sprinkled chopped parsley on top.

sweet jacked potato and baked beans

sweet jacked potato and baked beans

sweet jacked potato and baked beans

sweet jacked potato and baked beans

sweet jacked potato and baked beans

sweet jacked potato and baked beans




About potatofaces

People who cook always go on about precious memories of childhood food one of their family members cooked, how daddy or nanny taught them the importance of cooking and eating together, and they still remember the comfort food they produced, amazing dishes whipped up by brilliant but humble cooks in their family. Well, let me tell you, it was totally different in my family. My mother’s family – totally useless as cooks, who could survive on bread and butter, cooked once a week a terrible, terrible meal, usually some kind of meat piece with lots of brown sauce. Also, they were never bothered about eating together. That’s maybe why most of them were depressed and suicidal. My mother followed that path and couldn’t really cook, and because I never wanted to eat meat, was warning me that ‘one day I will regret it’. Probably because my mother wasn’t into cooking my sister at the age of 12 took over and started producing amazing dinners and cakes. Well, luckily for me and her we weren’t that genetically doomed because apparently my father’s family were gifted in that compartment. I can only presume it was genes, as my father divorced my mother when my sis and me were little and he strongly believed that he also divorced us. So, we were growing up never having any contact with him and as a result, couldn’t learn how to cook from him. That’s why I believe the love of cooking ( and the ability) was just passed to us genetically. My father, short time before he died, unexpectedly felt an urge to contact us. First he gave my sister a mandolin (that’s another thing I know about him- he played a few instruments). My sister refused to talk to him, he then decided to contact me and wanted to spend some time with me. I didn’t want to, as he was a stranger to me (I was 11 or 12 at the time) but as I was promised I could leave whenever I wanted to, I went to the village he lived in. There I tried his mother’s cooking everyone was raving about. It was simple and amazing, I wish they were as family dedicated as they were at baking, cooking, making pastries, wine, tinctures, you name it. But I ate, drunk, and got bored of strangers who were my family and demanded to be let to go home. One of the last things my father said to me was that I should start learning English because I might need it one day, which I ignored for another 16 years… Because my sister was such a domestic goddess I wasn’t really bothered about cooking. I got hooked properly after my son was born and I wanted him to eat healthy and get everything he needed, especially that it wasn’t his choice to be a vegetarian (yet). And that is how the story begins…

3 responses »

  1. Reblogged this on potatofaces and commented:

    time to make it again…

  2. Why have I never seen After Hours?
    Griffin Dunnes directorial début Addicted to Love is one of my favourites and this seems to have such a great ensemble cast (any film with both Catherine O’Hara and Teri Garr, not to mention Linda Fiorentino, is likely to have a lot going for it). I need to watch this soon.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: