An Ode to Simple

I don’t consider myself to be overly attached to tokens of the past. Meaning, if my house were on fire, I’d try to grab only my children and husband and head out the door. Or window.

But I am strangely attached to a very simple meal that I learned to make a while ago. It has been a part of my life for 17 years. It makes me insanely content to eat it. Not overjoyed, not ecstatic, just utterly satisfied and pleased.

It’s hard to find that in a meal. Especially one that costs about $5.00 to make and can feed eight adults.

In 1994, when I was very low-paid research assistant in Washington, DC, fresh out of grad school, loaded with student debt, my then-roommate taught me how she made black beans and rice. It involved sautéing onions, adding a can of black beans, salt, pepper, chopped green peppers and tomatoes… all while a pot of white rice was cooking on another burner. When everything was done, she put some rice in a bowl, topped it with the bean mixture, and then topped that with a very healthy portion of shredded cheddar cheese.

It was divine. It was cheap. It was easy. It was my favorite.

My roommate went off to law school in 1995 (and got married in 1996, and she served black beans and rice at her wedding). I stayed in that apartment, and a new roommate moved in.

I made black beans and rice, only I sautéed the tomatoes with the onions. I added Cajun seasoning, ground cumin, cayenne, sometimes cinnamon. Drained the beans before adding them into the mix.

In 1998 I moved into my own apartment, and I kept making those black beans and rice, at least once a month. A friend, as a housewarming gift, gave me my first-ever piece of serious kitchen equipment: an All-Clad stainless steel 12” frying pan, specifically for my black beans and rice. I still use that pan.

I met my future husband and made him some black beans and rice. He liked it. He went off to Philadelphia to get an MBA, and made his own version, adding mushrooms and corn.

My parents came to visit me in DC in 1999. I made black beans and rice for them, adding in a bit more spice and spinach to the now standard beans, mushrooms, corn, tomatoes, and cheese set-up, and garnished with fresh cilantro on top. My dad said it was so nicely presented it should have been served at a restaurant.

Well, he is my dad. My mom suggested that I add tomato paste… I have to admit, I never know what to do with the leftover paste once you open that little can and use only a little bit. I didn't add it.

I got married in 2002 and moved to Pittsburgh, and made black beans and rice pretty regularly. (Now I use brown rice.)

We had children in 2005 and 2007. When they began to eat solid food, they loved black beans and rice. (Now they tend to be picky and only eat a little bit of it. They’ll come around again.) 

My mom is undergoing treatment for multiple myeloma. I saw her in September. I made black beans and rice. I forgot the tomato paste. She didn’t mind.

I've learned to make a variety of things since 1994. Some far more complicated, far tastier... but nothing beats this meal. It reminds me of friendship, and love, and growth. 

I'm so weird. Or maybe not. Make yourself a pot. You'll see.