Because Creole beans demand a ham bone and ham was a popular Sunday meal in New Orleans, red beans and rice became a Monday tradition in homes and restaurants. Nearly every cafe kitchen without airs offers it, but few ever have been famous for it (other than the late, great Buster Holmes). It is, after all, a déclassé dish that relies on leftovers. Always humble, red beans and rice can be transcendent. When made right, each bean, saturated with the savor of pork, delivers silky richness that belies its leguminous virtue; the sausage that is de rigueur as a companion to rice and beans is deeply smoky and vividly spiced, its vibrancy balanced by the avoirdupois of rice. Red beans and rice is so soulfully satisfying that it has come to serve as an emblem of proletarian brio, virtue, and warmth. When New Orleans jazz pioneer Louis Armstrong wrote a letter, his complimentary close was “Red beans and ricely yours.”
Hearty enough to be a main course, red beans and rice frequently is offered as a side dish.