Bean feast

Lentils. Beans. Split peas... Don't exactly get the old gastric juices going, do they? Not like mash, which elicits oooohs and ahhhhs and other squeals of ecstasy. But why not? Pulses should be just as sexy as potatoes.

Maybe it's because, traditionally (with the odd exception, such as split and dried peas, which are served on Bonfire Night in Lancashire), we don't have much of a bean-eating culture - or at least one that's not allied to a five-letter word beginning in H and ending in Z.

Pulses, the collective noun for the dried seeds of leguminous vegetables (veg which have seed-bearing pods), have for centuries been at the heart of European peasant culture, a practical way of storing vegetables for winter. They include lentils, chickpeas, kidney, haricot, fava and soya beans, black eye and marrowfat (mushy) peas, all valuable sources of protein, particularly if eaten in conjunction with grains or other carbohydrates (think couscous and chickpeas, rice and peas). They can also, of course, be sprouted.

They are one of the oldest foodstuffs, going back to prehistoric times. Fava (broad) beans were used by ancient Egyptians; and lentils, according to the American food writer, Waverley Root, were cultivated in the gardens of King Merodach-Baladan in Babylon, though they appear not to have caused much excitement then, either. Root reports that the Greeks were particularly snooty about lentils: "Some of their philosophers ate them ostentatiously to demonstrate that they were above worldly pleasures and self-indulgence." Hippocrates, apparently, prescribed lentils for liver ailments "accompanied startlingly with slices of boiled dog". The word cicer , the Latin for chickpea, was believed to have been derived from one of Roman orator Cicero's ancestors, who had a wart on his face shaped like a chickpea.

Things weren't much better in the middle ages. Again according to Root's seminal work, Food, "the lentil was not only looked down upon as a food unworthy of the solvent, it was also accused of being difficult to digest, and prone to inflame the stomach, weaken eyesight and engender nightmares". And, according to Harold McGee, St Jerome went as far as to forbid them to the nuns in his charge on the grounds that "in genitablibus titillationes producunt".

If you want to see pulses viewed more benignly, you have to look to some of the countries to which they eventually spread - Egypt, north Africa, via the Arabs to Spain, then on to South America, where fejoida (that meltingly delicious combination of smoky pork and black beans) is celebrated as the national dish of Brazil. In Spain and Italy, they're taken far more seriously. Look at the River Cafe cookbooks and you'll find sexy, soft-focus photographs of borlotti beans, combined with nothing but fresh herbs and top-quality olive oil.

The beauty of beans and other pulses is their "fantastic ability to soak up flavour", says Jeremy Lee. "Combine them with inexpensive cuts of meat such as ham hocks or shoulder of lamb, and you end up with something quite remarkable and splendid." They miraculously absorb fat, so that the overall dish seems not remotely greasy, and develop a smooth, silky texture that makes sensational soups and purées (particularly useful at this time of year, when old potatoes are well past their best). They can be cooked and reheated with impunity, kept in the fridge for a couple of days, and are just as useful a standby as a can.

Most pulses, with the exception of split peas and lentils, need to be soaked beforehand, preferably overnight. Some books recommend as a short cut boiling them for five minutes, then leaving them to stand for an hour, but I'm not convinced the flavour is as good. You should then drain them, add fresh boiling water, then simmer for one to two hours, depending on the type of pulse (chickpeas generally take longer) and how fresh they are. Beans can get quite heavy and starchy if you don't use enough water. "You need lots and lots of liquid, just like you do for pasta," says Lee. "Too many people cram beans into the smallest pan imaginable." You can use ingredients such as garlic, bayleaves, sage and rosemary to intensify the flavour, but never add salt until they are cooked, otherwise it toughens them up.

The key to getting the best out of pulses is to buy the current year's crop, harvested the previous autumn. Like many top London chefs, Lee buys his from Spanish foods importer Brindisa (020-7403 6932), which runs a regular stall in London's Borough Market. Such high-quality beans don't come cheap, however: the Rolls-Royce of the bean world, for instance, the Spanish Judion beans - they are large butter beans harvested individually from the pod - fetch £9.40 a kilo, but that will do for several meals. "As always, it's about quality," says Lee. "Never buy things that have been hanging around on the back of the shelf."

These days, of course, pulses are seriously sexy, especially on the restaurant front - there's hardly a menu that doesn't have a pulsating dish. And the praises of pulses as an essential component of your everyday, healthy Mediterranean diet are now quite as vociferous as the voices that condemned them in the past.

All recipes serve six.

As with all dishes of a rural provenance, it is the quality of the ingredients that makes the difference. The Judion of Spain are still the finest I have ever used, and great when paired with pork or lamb, or served with a baked fish.

500g butter beans (Judion)

1 onion, peeled and split in half

1 whole head garlic, cloves separated and peeled

8-12 sage leaves

1 tsp black peppercorns

150ml extra-virgin olive oil

Sea salt

A fully charged pepper mill

Put the beans in a sizeable container and cover with plenty of water. Leave these to sit overnight in a cool place. The next morning, drain the beans and rinse. Put the beans in a large, heavy pot, cover with cold water and set upon a high heat. When the beans boil, skim off any foam that rises to the surface and add the onion and the garlic. Add the sage, peppercorns and olive oil, and reduce the heat to the merest murmur. Let the beans cook for two to three hours, depending on their age - they are cooked when they offer no resistance to the tongue, although they should retain their shape. Add salt and pepper, and stir gently, adding a few more sage leaves if required.

An all-time favourite from Madhur Jaffrey's Invitation To Indian Cooking

300g moong dal, or lentils

2 cloves garlic

2 slivers peeled fresh ginger, 2.5cm x 5mm thick

1 tsp fresh coriander leaves, chopped

1 tbsp ground turmeric

tsp cayenne pepper

1 tsp salt

1 tsp lemon juice

3 tsp ghee (or vegetable oil)

1 pinch ground asafoetida

1 tsp whole cumin seeds

1 onion, peeled and finely sliced

Wash the lentils thoroughly, put them into a heavy-bottomed pot and add a litre or so of water. Bring this to the boil, remove any and all froth that rises to the surface, then add the garlic, ginger, coriander, turmeric and cayenne pepper. Cover, leaving the lid very slightly ajar, lower heat and simmer gently for about one-and-a-half hours. Stir occasionally.

When the dal is cooked (it should be thicker than pea soup, but thinner than porridge), add the salt and lemon juice. In a 10-12cm frying pan, heat the ghee over a medium flame. When hot, add the asafoetida and cumin. As soon as the asafoetida sizzles and expands and the cumin seeds turn dark (this will only take a few seconds), tip the whole lot over the dal. In a separate pan, fry the thinly sliced onion rings in ghee until browned and crisp, lay upon the dal and serve.

I never knew what to do with the tiny little haricot beans of Spain. Too insubstantial to take the cooking and flavours that haricot and butter beans take with natural ease, they do rather well in this delightful soup.

250g little haricot beans

1 bayleaf

250g peeled, waxy potatoes

500g peas in their pods

1 piece smoked, streaky bacon

1 small handful fresh mint

1 clove garlic

50g good Parmesan

120ml extra-virgin olive oil

Soak the beans overnight in plenty of water. The next day, drain and rinse the beans and put them in a large heavy pot with plenty of water and a bayleaf. Bring the beans to the boil, then lower the heat to a simmer. Add the piece of bacon and leave to cook for a couple of hours.

Pod the peas and rinse. Cut the potatoes into small cubes (precision is not necessary here), rinse them under lots of cold water until all traces of starch have been removed, then add to the pan of beans, together with more water, if required - if there is too little liquid in the pot, it will cloud and turn starchy. When the potato is almost cooked, add the peas and, again, more water, if required. Cook the soup for a further 15-20 minutes.

Pick and chop the mint, peel and chop the garlic, and grate the Parmesan, then mix together with the olive oil. When the soup is cooked, and all the ingredients are soft and yielding to the tongue, add salt and pepper as required, then stir in the mint, garlic, Parmesan and olive oil mixture. Serve at once.

Eschew the bullet-like cheap stuff that is 10 a penny, and use the Spanish garbanzo, which tastes fabulous. Once made, this dish will keep and improve over several days, and is delicious warm or cold. Serve with grilled pork or lamb.

500g Spanish chickpeas

1 whole red chilli

4 bayleaves

3 medium onions

3 sticks celery

2 medium carrots

100ml olive oil

16 cloves garlic, peeled

1 tsp hot pimenton

1 tsp sweet pimenton

1 small sprig thyme

1 sprig rosemary

The night before, soak the chickpeas in plenty of cold water. Next day, drain and rinse them, then place in a large pot and cover again with water. Add the chilli and bayleaves, place over a high heat and bring to the boil. Skim off any foam that rises to the surface, then reduce the heat until the surface of the water is on a gentle roll. Leave to cook for a couple of hours.

Peel and finely chop the onion, carrot and celery, and in a heavy-based pot fry in the oil until golden. Add the garlic and fry for a minute or two longer, then add the spices and fry, taking care that they do not scorch, for two or three minutes.

It is vital that the chickpeas are completely cooked before adding them to the vegetable/spice mix, and do not be tempted to do so. Once the peas are mixed with the spices, add the fresh herbs to the pot, and cook for a further hour or two, until the liquid has reduced enough to coat the peas and colour them a deep red

• Jeremy Lee is chef at the Blue Print Cafe, London SE1. Borough Market is on Fridays, 12 noon-6pm, and Saturdays, 9am-4pm.