Brianna's week. Election Day Tuesday Γçö not the big one, local races, but I voted on my way to the plant because Ronald Carter raised his children to vote in every election, every time, no exceptions. He used to say, "People died for that booth. You're going to stand in it." So I stood in it. Seven minutes at the community center, in and out before the six o'clock shift. I don't talk politics on here. I talk food. But I'll say this: whatever you believe, vote. Your grandparents would want you to.
Overtime all week again. The Grand Cherokee L line is running hot and the holiday production push is on. Twelve-hour days, five days straight. My body knows this rhythm Γçö sixteen years of it Γçö but my body also knows it's thirty-four and not twenty-one, and my knee sends me a reminder every time I stand up from a crouch on the line. I come home smelling like grease and metal and I'm too tired to cook anything complicated, so this was a rotisserie chicken week. Not homemade. Kroger. Three ninety-nine. I am not too proud for a grocery store rotisserie chicken when my feet hurt and the clock says nine PM.
But here's what I do with it. Night one: chicken as-is with rice and steamed broccoli. Night two: I pull the remaining meat off the bone, shred it, mix it with cream cheese, shredded cheddar, a little ranch seasoning, and some hot sauce, stuff it into tortillas, and pan-fry them into chicken quesadillas. The kids eat these like I invented the concept of food. Night three: the carcass goes into a pot with onion, celery, carrots, garlic, bay leaves, salt, peppercorns. Simmer for two hours. Strain. Chicken stock. That stock becomes soup the next night Γçö egg noodles, leftover vegetables, the last scraps of chicken. Four meals from one bird. Mama taught me that. Her mother taught her. Somewhere in Louisiana, somebody's grandmother is looking down and nodding.
Called the kids Wednesday. Aiden's team has their first game next week. He said he's ready. I believe him. Zaria told me she's writing a story at school about a queen who fights dragons. I asked if the queen wins. She said, "Obviously." I miss them on Brianna's weeks. The apartment is too quiet. I fill it with the sound of simmering stock and pretend that's enough. Some weeks it is. Some weeks it isn't. This week it was close.
After four nights of one bird — the plain plate, the quesadillas, the stock, the soup — the chicken was gone and so was most of my energy, but the week wasn’t quite done with me. That’s when I reach for black bean tacos: same tortillas, same spirit as those quesadilla nights, but built around a can instead of a carcass. It’s the kind of meal Mama would’ve approved of — cheap, fast, and honest enough to eat alone in a quiet apartment on a Thursday night without feeling sorry about it.
Black Bean Tacos
Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 25 min | Servings: 4 (2 tacos each)
Ingredients
- 2 cans (15 oz each) black beans, drained and rinsed
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- 1 small yellow onion, diced
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 teaspoon ground cumin
- 1 teaspoon chili powder
- 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
- 1/4 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- 2 tablespoons water or vegetable broth
- 8 small corn or flour tortillas
- 1 cup shredded cabbage or romaine lettuce
- 1/2 cup salsa or pico de gallo
- 1 avocado, sliced (or guacamole)
- 1/4 cup sour cream
- Fresh cilantro and lime wedges, for serving
Instructions
- Soften the aromatics. Heat olive oil in a medium skillet over medium heat. Add diced onion and cook, stirring occasionally, for 4 to 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 along with cumin, chili powder, smoked paprika, salt, and pepper. Stir well to coat the beans evenly in the spices.
- Mash and simmer. Add 2 tablespoons of water or broth. Use the back of a wooden spoon or a fork to gently mash about half the beans directly in the pan, leaving the rest whole for texture. Stir together and let cook over medium-low heat for 4 to 5 minutes, until the mixture is thick and heated through. Taste and adjust salt as needed.
- Warm the tortillas. Heat tortillas one at a time in a dry skillet over medium-high heat for about 30 seconds per side, or wrap them in a damp paper towel and microwave for 30 to 45 seconds until soft and pliable.
- Assemble the tacos. Spoon a generous portion of the black bean mixture into the center of each tortilla. Top with shredded cabbage, a spoonful of salsa, avocado slices, and a small dollop of sour cream. Finish with fresh cilantro and a squeeze of lime juice. Serve immediately.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 340 | Protein: 14g | Fat: 9g | Carbs: 53g | Fiber: 14g | Sodium: 510mg