Black Bean Tamale Pie

The week after. Jisoo and Jun-ho are here through October 3. We have been moving slowly. Sunday we did nothing — James and I came home from the winery hotel around noon and went to bed and slept four hours. Jisoo and Jun-ho were staying at the downtown hotel we had booked for them. They came to the condo Sunday night. We ate pajeon again. We talked. We went to bed early.

Monday: I went back to work for a half day. I had to. Priya was gracious. I came home at lunch. Jisoo had cooked in my kitchen. She had used my knife, my pot, my stove, my ingredients. The kitchen smelled like her kitchen in Busan. It was the most dizzying moment of my life. Two kitchens, my birth mother's and mine, briefly the same kitchen. She had made doenjang jjigae. She stood at my stove and tasted from a wooden spoon and looked up at me and said, in Korean, "Your water is good. The broth came out better than in Busan." I said, "Umma. You made it in my kitchen. That is the whole thing."

Tuesday: we went to the International District. Jisoo wanted to see the Korean grocery store I had been writing about for a year. We went to Uwajimaya. We went to H Mart. We went to three small Korean markets in the ID. Jisoo bought things, for fun. Dried persimmons. A type of candy she remembered from her childhood. A bag of jasmine rice. Jun-ho bought a few bottles of Washington state sake. We had lunch at the Korean restaurant where I had first eaten kimchi jjigae in college and cried. I told Jisoo the story. She ate her kimchi jjigae and nodded and said, "This is good kimchi jjigae. Not as good as mine." She was not bragging. She was being accurate.

Wednesday: the Bellevue dinner. Karen and David hosted. Karen made the main course (pot roast, slowly, with David's help), and Jisoo made a small plate of japchae and kimchi as a side. The two kitchens, again, briefly in the same house. Karen had set the table with her good china. David had vacuumed. Rosa was there for the afternoon. Kevin and Lisa drove up from Portland for dinner.

Karen handed Jisoo the handwritten letter she had prepared. Jisoo read it with Hye-jin translating. Karen had written, in part: "Thank you for giving me a daughter. I have loved her for twenty-nine years. I know you have loved her longer and harder. I am sorry you did not get to raise her. I am grateful I did. She is ours, now. Both of ours. Always." Jisoo cried. Karen cried. Jun-ho held David's hand briefly. It was, without question, the best dinner in our family's history.

Thursday and Friday: quiet. Jisoo and Jun-ho rested. I worked. James worked.

Saturday: we drove to the San Juan Islands. Kevin and Lisa came along. Jisoo had told me she wanted to see the ocean, but not Busan ocean, different ocean. We took the ferry. We walked on a beach on Lopez Island. Jisoo stood at the edge of the Pacific, which eventually touches the edge of Busan, and she looked at the water and she said, in Korean, "This is how far away you have been my whole life." I held her hand. I said, "I am not far anymore, umma."

The recipe this week is Jisoo's doenjang jjigae made in my Seattle kitchen. I am not publishing a recipe. I will tell you this: the doenjang she used was the Sempio I bought from H Mart in 2021. The water was Seattle water. The zucchini was from the grocery store two blocks from my condo. The kitchen smell was my mother's kitchen. I ate two bowls. I put one aside for James. He ate it cold the next day. Nothing was wasted.

Jisoo’s doenjang jjigae belongs to her, and to the kitchen she carried it from, and I will not try to replicate it here — that recipe lives in her hands and in the smell of my condo on that Monday afternoon, and nowhere else. But the week left me craving exactly that kind of food: something that simmers, something that deepens, something you can put on the stove while the people you love are still in the next room. This black bean tamale pie is what I made the following weekend, when Jisoo and Jun-ho had gone home and James and I were alone and quiet and still. It is not Korean. It is not her recipe. But it is slow and warm and it filled the kitchen, and that was exactly what I needed.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 35 minutes | Total Time: 50 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

1 tablespoon olive oil
1 small yellow onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 medium red bell pepper, diced
2 cans (15 oz each) black beans, drained and rinsed
1 can (15 oz) fire-roasted diced tomatoes
1 cup frozen corn kernels
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon chili powder
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/2 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1 cup shredded Monterey Jack or Mexican blend cheese
For the cornbread topping:
1 cup yellow cornmeal
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 large egg
3/4 cup whole milk
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted

Instructions

Preheat. Heat oven to 400°F. If you are using an oven-safe skillet, keep it on the stovetop for the filling.
Build the filling. Warm olive oil in a 10-inch oven-safe skillet over medium heat. Add onion and bell pepper and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 5 to 6 minutes. Add garlic and cook 1 minute more, until fragrant.
Season and simmer. Add black beans, diced tomatoes, corn, cumin, chili powder, smoked paprika, salt, and black pepper. Stir to combine. Let the mixture simmer over medium-low heat for 5 minutes, until slightly thickened. Taste and adjust salt. If transferring to a baking dish, do so now and spread the filling evenly.
Add the cheese. Scatter the shredded cheese evenly over the surface of the warm bean filling.
Mix the cornbread batter. In a medium bowl, whisk together cornmeal, flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt. In a small bowl, whisk together the egg, milk, and melted butter. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry and stir until just combined — a few small lumps are fine.
Top and bake. Pour the cornbread batter evenly over the cheese and filling, spreading gently with a spatula to cover. Transfer to the oven and bake for 20 to 25 minutes, until the cornbread topping is golden brown and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.
Rest before serving. Let the pie cool in the pan for 5 minutes before slicing. Serve directly from the skillet or baking dish. Good with sour cream, hot sauce, or nothing at all.

Nutrition (per serving)

Black Bean Tamale Pie — A Kitchen That Smells Like Home