By I drove back to DeKalb on Thursday. Two hours on I-88 in January, which is flat and gray and freezing in a way that makes you feel like you're driving across the surface of the moon if the moon had a Cracker Barrel at mile marker forty-seven. Dad loaded my car — the Civic he bought off a neighbor in 2014 for two thousand dollars, with a heater that works only on the left side — and then stood in the driveway with his hands in his pockets and said, "Drive safe, kid." Mom hugged me for eleven seconds. I counted. She said, "Call me when you get there." I called her when I got there. I will always call her when I get there.
The dorm room is the same. Different roommate — a girl named Priya from Naperville who's pre-med and owns color-coded highlighters and has already organized her desk like a surgical prep station. She seems kind. She doesn't know about Jess. She will, eventually, because I've learned that hiding the hard stuff only makes it harder, but not this week. This week I am just a girl moving back into a dorm room with a duffel bag and a slow cooker and Babcia Rose's recipe notebook, which I brought because the kitchen in the communal area has a stove and I intend to use it.
I met with Dr. Okafor on Friday. Her office is the size of a generous closet — smaller than Babcia Rose's kitchen, which is saying something. She had my file open. She said, "You're behind, but you're not lost." She mapped out the semester: four courses, including student teaching seminar, which means I'll be in a classroom by junior year's end. Observing, not teaching. But in the room. With kids. The thought made my chest tight in the good way, the way that means something matters.
I made rice and beans in the dorm kitchen on Saturday night. A can of black beans — sixty-nine cents. A cup of rice — maybe ten cents. Half an onion, garlic, cumin, a squeeze of lime from a plastic lime-shaped bottle because fresh limes are not in the budget. I ate it at my desk while Priya studied organic chemistry across the room and the radiator clanked like a drunk percussionist. The meal cost under a dollar. It tasted like coming back. Not triumphant. Not healed. Just back — in the chair, at the desk, with food in the bowl and a schedule on the wall and a semester that starts on Tuesday. I'm here. I stayed gone for four months and I came back. That's not nothing. That might be everything.
That Saturday night bowl wasn’t a recipe I looked up—it was just what I knew how to make with what I had, which felt exactly right for a night that was about getting back to basics. Something about the simplicity of it, the low stakes, the smell of cumin and garlic in a dorm kitchen at 9 p.m., made the return feel real in a way that a restaurant meal never could have. So here’s how I made it—cheap, honest, and easier than any of the four courses I’m registered for.
Budget Black Bean & Rice Bowl
Prep Time: 5 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 25 min | Servings: 2
Ingredients
- 1 cup long-grain white rice
- 2 cups water
- 1 can (15 oz) black beans, drained and rinsed
- 1/2 medium yellow onion, diced
- 2 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 teaspoon ground cumin
- 1/4 teaspoon chili powder
- 1/4 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
- 1 tablespoon olive oil or neutral cooking oil
- 1 tablespoon lime juice (fresh or bottled)
- Optional toppings: shredded cabbage or kale, hot sauce, plain Greek yogurt or sour cream
Instructions
- Cook the rice. Combine rice and water in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, then reduce heat to low, cover, and simmer for 15–18 minutes until water is absorbed and rice is tender. Remove from heat and let sit, covered, for 5 minutes.
- Sauté the aromatics. While the rice cooks, heat oil in a medium skillet over medium heat. Add diced onion and cook, stirring occasionally, for 4–5 minutes until softened and translucent. Add garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
- Season the beans. Add drained black beans to the skillet. Sprinkle in cumin, chili powder, and salt. Stir to coat and cook for 3–4 minutes until beans are heated through and slightly thickened. Add a splash of water if the pan looks dry.
- Finish with lime. Remove skillet from heat and stir in lime juice. Taste and adjust seasoning — more salt, more cumin, more lime. Trust yourself here.
- Assemble the bowl. Scoop rice into a bowl and top with the seasoned beans. Add any optional toppings you have on hand. Eat at your desk if you need to. It counts.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 390 | Protein: 14g | Fat: 8g | Carbs: 68g | Fiber: 11g | Sodium: 420mg