Why Beans Belong in Pecan Pie

Pies often steal the show at Thanksgiving — especially pecan, which might be made just once a year. But if you really want to make a dessert that guests will remember, I suggest you open a can of pinto beans. Yes, pinto beans. 

Last month I visited the headquarters of Bush Brothers & Company, which makes Bush’s Best beans, in Dandridge, Tennessee, with a few other editors. After touring the factory and gift shop, we enjoyed lunch at the café next door. It was packed on a Tuesday afternoon, with locals enjoying beans galore alongside Southern specialties like fried catfish and pimiento cheese.

One bean-based dish caught my eye: Bush’s Pinto Bean Pecan Pie. When samples of the original flavor and a chocolate version came out of the kitchen, I was already stuffed from a barbecue platter (which naturally included a side of pinto beans).

Thankfully, there is always room for dessert, so I can report that this pie was the best thing I ate all day. To my surprise, the flavor of the beans wasn’t apparent at all, even in the original. Instead, the beans produced a pie filling that was caramelly and creamy without the cloying gooeyness of a corn syrup–based pie. I liked the chocolate version even more, with its deep, fudgy richness. 

An Appalachian recipe

Curious, I reached back out to Scott Schroeder, the general manager of the Bush’s Visitor Center. When the café opened in 2010, they wanted a “signature” dessert, he tells me. That’s where bean pie came in. Inspired by a recipe from the Chestnut Hill United Methodist Church community cookbook, former Bush’s employees “Mama Sharon” and Sue Henry tweaked and scaled up the recipe (the kitchen makes four at a time). 

“The folklore is that it was something here in the region that’d been around for many years,” says Schroeder. “I would assume that it probably even goes back to hard times where you were trying to stretch recipes as far as you could.” Company historian Susan “Sam” Merill confirms that beans emerged as a pie ingredient during the Great Depression thanks to their low cost and ubiquitousness.

That tracks with other recipes I found online for pinto bean pie from sites like Grub Americana and Homesick Texan. The custard pie doesn’t always include pecans but might resemble a chess pie with mashed beans subbed in for the cornmeal. 

Bean pie is not limited to Appalachia. In the 1960s, Elijah Muhammad, the leader of the Nation of Islam, encouraged followers to eat foods that were not tied to slavery and offered nutritional benefits, such as navy beans. The navy bean pie — spiced with nutmeg and cinnamon — emerged as a symbol of self-determination for Black Americans. Today, bean pies are offered by bakeries like Abu’s Bean Pie in Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn, and Baked From the Hart in Seattle.

Worldwide, beans show up in plenty of desserts. In Japan and China, adzuki beans are often cooked down with sugar to make red bean paste for flavoring sweets like the Chinese sesame balls known as jian dui. In the Philippines, you’ll find mung beans in halo-halo, where they contrast with the varied textures of shaved ice, jellies, and flan to create a dessert that’s greater than the sum of its parts. 

While you don’t need pecans to make a pinto bean pie, they offer a good entryway for skeptics. 

“I explain the original as a pecan pie that is not so rich that you can’t finish a slice,” explains café assistant manager Kim Thompson, who developed the chocolate version. 

In fact, Jenkins and café manager Angie Thompson note that they always offer to replace the pie with another dessert, no charge, for those who have doubts. In the 14 years the cafe has been open, they’ve never once had the bean pie sent back.

“I went back and looked at social media platforms and our visitors are our best promoters,” says Jenkins with a laugh. “The conclusion is always the same: Don’t judge a pie by its beans.” 

Making the bean pie

Bush’s offers a recipe for its pie, and I knew I had to make it. I typically prefer to make my own piecrust, but to limit any variables I relied on Wholly Wholesome, the winner of our frozen piecrust taste test.

First I made the filling, heeding the advice of Thompson. It’s a simple filling, with three-quarters of a cup of pinto beans (preferably Bush’s) and three tablespoons of the bean liquid, margarine or butter, eggs, vanilla, and chopped pecans.

“Mash ’em up real good,” Thompson instructed. “You can leave a few small pieces, but you don’t want big whole beans in there.”

She suggested a potato masher, but since I didn’t have one I used the back of a fork to mash the beans. Then I combined them with the other ingredients, spooned the filling into the frozen piecrust, and baked the pie for about 45 minutes.

When it came out of the oven, it looked and smelled like a traditional pecan pie, with a crackly top and irresistible aroma of toasted nuts. I let it sit for a couple hours to set, then refrigerated it overnight.

The next day I brought the bean pie into work for my colleagues to taste. To be clear, like most pies, this one has plenty of sugar (1 1/2 cups, to be exact). But it tasted surprisingly well-balanced, with no detectable bean flavor.

I’ll be honest: The texture was divisive. Though I’d tried my best to follow Thompson’s advice, some whole beans remained in the filling, which wasn’t for everyone. 

But among the detractors were some earnest supporters. 

“I’m a fan of the bean pie!” said Senior Photo Editor Doan Nguyen, who compared it to a Chinese red bean dessert soup. “My parents make a lot of bean dessert ‘soups’ and would LOVE this pie. There’s a whole category of desserts in Vietnam that’s very bean-forward.”

Merlyn Miller, editor of news and trending and F&W’s resident bean queen, also enjoyed it. “The beans add a really nice creamy richness to the filling, but the recipe still has the texture and crunch that you expect from pecan pie,” she said. 

My advice? If you make this pie for Thanksgiving, take care to really mash the beans. And maybe don’t tell your guests beforehand what’s in it. They just might be surprised that their new favorite dessert is a legume legend.