By 107 degrees on Wednesday. One hundred and seven. The thermometer on the back porch — the old-fashioned mercury kind that Dad gave me, because Gary Dawson does not trust digital anything — read 107 at 3 PM, and I stood there looking at it and thought: this is not a temperature. This is a threat. The foothills are brown and crisp and the air smells like smoke from half a dozen fires burning across Idaho, and the sky has that hazy quality that means the smoke is settling into the valley like a toxic fog.
The kids and I lived at the public pool this weekend. Mason can swim now — not well, but independently, dog-paddling from one side of the shallow end to the other with the focused determination of someone crossing the English Channel. Lily wore her floaties and clung to me like a barnacle and splashed everything within a four-foot radius, including a man who was trying to read a newspaper on a pool chair and who gave us a look that I cheerfully ignored because it's a public pool and my two-year-old has as much right to splash as he has to be dry.
Scott called once. Brief. The fire is big — 15,000 acres now, dozens of crews, type 1 incident management. He sounded exhausted but not in danger. I've learned to read his tone like weather reports: tired but steady means he's working hard but safe; tired and clipped means something happened that he's not telling me; tired and quiet means he's seen something he can't unsee. This week he was tired but steady, and I exhaled.
Brett came over Saturday evening. He does this during fire season — checks on me without calling it checking on me. He brought pizza and a six-pack and sat on the porch while the kids ran through the sprinkler. We talked about Claire — they're still together, six months now, which is the longest Brett has dated anyone since high school. He said, "She doesn't treat me like I'm broken," and I said, "You're not broken," and he said, "I know that. But not everyone does," and we sat with that for a while, because it's true. People see the wheelchair and make assumptions. Claire sees the man. That's rare.
I made freezer burritos this week — a batch of twenty, assembly-line style. Rice, black beans, cheese, salsa, chicken, rolled tight, wrapped in foil, stacked in the freezer like delicious little insurance policies against the nights when I'm too tired to cook, which is most nights. Each burrito takes three minutes in the microwave and ten minutes to eat and saves me from the guilt of ordering delivery on a vet tech's salary. They are not gourmet. They are not beautiful. They are efficient and filling and they taste like planning ahead, which is the most romantic flavor I know.
Hank has been spending the heat wave on the kitchen floor, which is tile and therefore the coolest spot in the house. He lies there like a speed bump — three legs splayed, belly on the floor, occasionally sighing with the melodrama of a Victorian heroine. I step over him fifty times a day. I would not move him for anything in the world.
These black bean and sweet potato burritos are the ones I keep coming back to when I need a batch that actually holds up in the freezer — the sweet potato gives them a little substance and sweetness that the kids don’t argue with, and the black beans do the heavy lifting on protein so I don’t feel like I’m feeding everyone air. When Scott is gone and the mercury is threatening my sanity and Brett has already done his quiet-check-in pizza visit, this is what I make on a Sunday afternoon: the rice cooker going, a sheet pan of sweet potato in the oven, assembly line on the kitchen table while Hank sighs on the tile. Twenty burritos, done.
Black Bean and Sweet Potato Burritos
Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 30 minutes | Total Time: 50 minutes | Servings: 8 burritos
Ingredients
- 2 medium sweet potatoes, peeled and diced into 1/2-inch cubes
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- 1 teaspoon chili powder
- 1/2 teaspoon cumin
- 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika
- Salt and black pepper to taste
- 2 cans (15 oz each) black beans, drained and rinsed
- 1 cup cooked brown or white rice
- 1 cup salsa (your favorite jarred or fresh)
- 1 1/2 cups shredded Mexican blend or cheddar cheese
- 1/2 cup sour cream (optional)
- 8 large flour tortillas (10-inch burrito size)
Instructions
- Roast the sweet potato. Preheat oven to 400°F. Toss diced sweet potato with olive oil, chili powder, cumin, garlic powder, smoked paprika, salt, and pepper. Spread in a single layer on a rimmed baking sheet and roast for 25–30 minutes, stirring once halfway, until tender and lightly caramelized at the edges.
- Warm the beans. While the sweet potato roasts, combine drained black beans and salsa in a small saucepan over medium-low heat. Stir occasionally and cook for 5–8 minutes until heated through and slightly thickened. Season with additional cumin or chili powder if desired.
- Warm the tortillas. Wrap tortillas in a damp paper towel and microwave for 30–45 seconds, or warm individually in a dry skillet over medium heat for about 20 seconds per side. Warm tortillas fold without cracking.
- Assemble the burritos. Lay a tortilla flat. Layer on a scoop of rice (about 2 tablespoons), a spoonful of bean and salsa mixture (about 1/3 cup), a generous spoonful of roasted sweet potato, and a handful of shredded cheese. Add a small dollop of sour cream if using. Don’t overfill — leave about 2 inches clear on the sides.
- Roll tight. Fold the sides of the tortilla in, then roll from the bottom up, tucking firmly as you go. The tighter the roll, the better it holds in the freezer.
- To freeze. Wrap each burrito individually in aluminum foil and place in a zip-top freezer bag or airtight container. Label with the date. Freeze for up to 3 months.
- To reheat. Remove foil. Microwave on high for 2–3 minutes, flipping halfway through, until heated all the way to the center. Alternatively, rewrap in foil and bake at 350°F for 30–35 minutes from frozen.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 390 | Protein: 14g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 58g | Fiber: 9g | Sodium: 620mg