Ellen Kanner's Miami Vegan Offers Bright Recipes for Summer Dining
Caribbean, Latin-American, and Southern influences come together in these plant-friendy dishes
Miami is a city full of wonderful food, thanks to its rich melting pot of cultures that have landed on its sun-filled shores.
Because of its semi-tropical climate, there’s an abundance of fruits and vegetables that grow both in its agricultural communities and in backyards all over the Magic City. It’s commonplace for residents to grow their tomatoes, papaya, avocados, mangoes, limes, and bananas. In just a few short weeks, Miami streets will be lined with boxes filled with ripe, juicy mangoes next to signs saying “too much fruit, please take some”.
Ellen Kanner, a native Miamian, has long been showcasing her city’s natural bounty in various publications and on her Broccoli Rising Substack.
She’s just released her latest cookbook, Miami Vegan: Plant-Based Recipes From the Tropics to Your Table. The book features more than 80 recipes that capture the soulfulness and flavor of the city she calls home. Kanner likens Miami to a “potcake”, the cooked crust of rice and beans that sticks to the bottom of the pot. The term “potcake” is also a Bahamian name for a mixed-breed dog. Nothing could be truer of Miami, where Latino, Caribbean, European, and American cultures blend.
Kanner has taken some of the most loved Miami staples, such as Caribbean pigeon peas, fideos, ceviche, and Cuban black beans, and turned them vegan. She’s even tackled that most beloved of Floridian dishes — the Key Lime Pie, writing a vegan version of the dessert that she said even her ancestors would approve of. A rare fifth-generation Miamian, Kanner has been a vegan for a quarter of a century, before the grocery store had Impossible Burgers and an entire section devoted to nut milks. Being vegan in a city where pork is king, Kanner started reverse engineering favorite dishes so that she could enjoy them. This book is the result of her ingenuity and culinary skills.
Though Kanner will proudly tell you that the reason why she gave up meat a quarter century ago (she loved cows and subsequently wanted to piss off her parents), she will not preach the gospel of veganism. Instead, she wants to convince with kindness and flavor.
In other words, teach a man to fish and he’ll eat a grouper. But teach a man that a vegan Bahamian chowder is satisfying and complex, and he might just eschew animal protein forever. Or not — Kanner is just as pleased when people choose to eat a few plant-based meals a week.
That’s the case for me. I’m not completely vegan, but I do like to eat as clean as I possibly can at home. Plus, while I really like Cuban food, I don’t relish the idea of most of it being cooked with lard. With recipes from this book, I can have the flavors I crave without the animal-based products.
I’ve also written before about how I love a useful cookbook. Beautiful pictures and aspirational recipes, are all fine, but give me something that I can use. Show me a cookbook that’s been dog-eared and food-stained and I’ll show you a book that’s well-loved and worth space in my tiny condo.
Miami Vegan does have pretty pictures, but it’s also supremely easy to use.
Kanner starts by listing the staples you should have in your vegan pantry — take a picture of these four pages with you next time you go shopping, and you’ll have everything you need.
The recipes — divided into “Miami Flavors” and “Miami Favorites” are comprehensive (you’ll find everything from instructions on how to make a cafe Cubano (Miami’s own rocket fuel) to a vegan arroz con leche. They’re also very easy to follow. Let’s put it this way: I may write about food, I may love food, and I may cook at home a lot — but I don’t pretend to have mad kitchen skills. Even I can follow these recipes.
In short, if you’re vegan, vegan-curious, or a Monday vegan (Kanner doesn’t like the term “Meatless Monday” because she doesn’t believe being vegan means giving anything up), you’ll enjoy this book. If you love Miami, you’ll enjoy this book. And if you simply love good food, you’ll enjoy this book.
As Kanner says in her introduction, “Come visit Miami. Wear sunscreen. Eat plants.”
Kanner has shared a few recipes with Broken Palate. Enjoy!
Caribbean Pigeon Peas and Rice
Traditionally, this dish is made with pigeon peas—cute, round, and tan, also called gandules, or the fun name, gungo peas. They’re a staple in markets with Latin American and Caribbean communities. If you can’t find them, no worries. Use red beans (another island favorite) instead. No harm will be done.
The beans and rice need to be cooked in advance before you start this dish. Plan ahead. In fact, the whole dish can be made ahead and reheated when you’re ready to serve.
Ingredients
• 2 cups pigeon peas or red beans, cooked and cooled, or 1 15-ounce can of beans, rinsed and drained
• 2-1/2 cups brown rice, cooked and cooled
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 large onion, chopped (about 2 cups)
• 3 garlic cloves, chopped
• 1 green or red pepper, chopped (about 1 cup)
• 1/4 (Scotch bonnet pepper, minced or 1 to 2 jalapeños, seeded and chopped, depending on how hot you like it*
• 2 celery stalks, chopped (about 1-1/2 cups)
• 1 tomato, chopped (or 1 cup canned chopped tomatoes, drained)
• 1 teaspoon allspice
• 1/2 teaspoon cumin
• 1 small handful fresh thyme leaves or 1/4 teaspoon dried
• 1 small bunch cilantro, coarsely chopped
• sea salt and fresh ground pepper to taste
Instructions
• In a large skillet, heat the oil over medium-high heat. Add the onion and garlic, and sauté until softened, about 5 minutes. Add the chile and celery, and continue cooking, stirring occasionally, for another 5 minutes. Stir in the chopped tomato and season with the allspice and cumin.
• Add the cooked pigeon peas and rice, stirring until the mixture is well combined. Reduce the heat to medium and continue cooking, stirring occasionally, until the moisture from the vegetables is absorbed, about 10 minutes. Add the thyme, cilantro, sea salt, and pepper.
Serves 4 to 6. Doubles beautifully.
Cuban Black Beans
In Cuban restaurants, black beans often come as a pork accompaniment or afterthought. They deserve center stage. Cuban black beans have a smokiness and richness all their own, thanks to a slow-cooking sofrito. The only tinkering with tradition here is my addition of greens. Totally optional, but hey, they’re sustainable, nutrient-dense, and anti-aging.
Cuban eateries traditionally serve black beans as a side dish with white rice and sautéed plantains. I like black beans as a main attraction, with a big green salad.
Ingredients
• 3 tablespoons olive oil
• 2 onions, chopped (about 2-1/2 cups)
• 4 garlic cloves, chopped
• 1 red pepper, chopped (about 1 cup)
• 1 jalapeño or other hot chile, chopped
• 1 pound dried black beans, cooked and cooled
• 2 tablespoons tomato paste
• 1 tablespoon smoked paprika
• 2 teaspoons cumin
• 2 tablespoons sherry vinegar or 1 tablespoon cider vinegar
• 1/2 pound kale or Swiss chard, sliced into skinny ribbons (aka chiffonade), about 2 cups
• sea salt and fresh ground pepper to taste
Instructions
• In a large soup pot, heat olive oil over medium-high heat. Add onions and cook, stirring, until they start to sweat, about 5 minutes. Add garlic and both the sweet and hot pepper.
• Stir to combine and reduce heat to medium. Cook the vegetables, stirring occasionally, for another 15 minutes, until they’re soft- ened and aromatic. Add cumin, tomato paste, and smoked paprika, and stir until combined, and vegetables have taken on a warm and rosy glow.
• Stir in the black beans and about 1 cup of the bean cooking broth. Reduce heat to medium, and set the pot lid on halfway, leaving a little steam vent. Cook the beans for an hour, longer if you’ve got the time. Add more bean broth, 1/2 cup at a time, if the beans seem dry. Aim for thick, not over- dry. The goal is a divine beanly sludge.
• Stir in the sherry or cider vinegar. Remove from heat.
• Add the chiffonade of kale or chard by the handful. Stir gently, letting the greens wilt into the beans.
• Season generously with sea salt and ground pepper.
Serves 6 to 8.