Black Bean White Cheddar Frittata — Spring in the Kitchen, Even When the World Is Still

The new Sven is a puppy. A puppy in a sixty-two-year-old grief house. The contrast is its own medicine. He chews everything. He pees on the rug. He has no concept of the sacredness of the kitchen. He runs through it like a tornado. He is not the first Sven. He is loud and goofy and embarrassing and entirely necessary. I love him completely. Sophie is showing now. The baby is due in summer. She is naming her Ingrid. The name was a gift, given to me at the worst time, which is also the right time. Mamma would approve. Mamma did, in fact, know — Sophie told her in October, before Mamma's mind started slipping at the end. Mamma had cried. Mamma had said, "Sophie, that is the right thing." The right thing carries forward. Gerald at the Damiano Center asked about Mamma. I said she was gone. He hugged me. The hug was longer than I expected. Gerald is a thoughtful man and not a hugger by inclination, and the hug from him was a weighted thing. He said, "Linda, my mother died when I was nine and I have missed her every day since." He said: "It does not stop. But it changes." I said: "I know." We kept ladling soup. Forty more bowls. The hug was over. The work continued. Anna brought me a puppy. A golden retriever from the same Two Harbors breeder where Paul and I got the first Sven. I told her I did not want another dog. I held the puppy within thirty seconds. His name is Sven. Sven the Second. The puppy is enormous in his enthusiasm and tiny in his actual size. He is exactly what the kitchen needs right now. I cooked Asparagus risotto this week. Arborio rice toasted in butter, white wine, then ladles of warm chicken stock added one at a time, the rice stirred until creamy. Asparagus blanched and added at the end. Parmesan. Lemon zest. The taste of spring's first vegetable. Thursday at the Damiano Center: I made an extra pot of pea soup, the way Mamma taught me — yellow split peas, ham hock, onion, the whole of Sunday afternoon dedicated to its slow simmer. Gerald said, "Variety. We approve." The regulars approved too. One older woman ate three bowls and asked if she could take some home. I sent her home with a quart in a glass jar. She is bringing the jar back next Thursday. We have an arrangement. I walked to the lake on Saturday. I stood at the spot where Paul and I used to walk — the bench at the end of the lakefront trail, the one with the brass plaque about a different Paul who died in 1972. I told my Paul about the week. About the kids. About the dog. About the soup. I do not feel foolish doing this. The lake is patient. The lake has, in some real sense, become my husband by proxy. I would not have predicted this in 1988. It has turned out to be true anyway. It is enough. It has to be. And on a morning like this, with the lake doing what the lake does and the dog at my feet and the bread on the counter and the kitchen warm enough to live in, it is. It is enough.

The asparagus risotto I made this week asked something of me — patience, presence, the willingness to stand at the stove and stir and wait — and I was glad it did. But the dish I keep coming back to, the one that has fed me through the weeks that feel impossible, is a frittata: black beans, sharp white cheddar, eggs set low and slow in a cast iron pan. It has the same spirit as risotto — humble ingredients held together into something greater — but it is faster, and right now faster matters. Sven the Second was underfoot the entire time I made it, and somehow it still turned out beautifully.

Black Bean White Cheddar Frittata

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 30 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

• 6 large eggs
• 1/4 cup whole milk
• 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• 1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 1/2 medium yellow onion, diced
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 1 can (15 oz) black beans, drained and rinsed
• 1/2 cup roasted red peppers, sliced (jarred is fine)
• 3/4 cup shredded white cheddar cheese, divided
• 2 tablespoons fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped

Instructions

1. Preheat the broiler. Set your oven rack about 6 inches from the broiler element and preheat to broil. If your skillet handle is not oven-safe, wrap it in foil.
2. Whisk the eggs. In a medium bowl, whisk together the eggs, milk, salt, pepper, and smoked paprika until smooth and slightly frothy. Set aside.
3. Soften the aromatics. Heat olive oil in a 10-inch oven-safe skillet (cast iron works beautifully) over medium heat. Add the diced onion and cook, stirring occasionally, for 4–5 minutes until softened and translucent. Add garlic and cook 1 minute more.
4. Add beans and peppers. Stir in the black beans and roasted red peppers. Spread the mixture evenly across the bottom of the pan and let it warm through for about 2 minutes.
5. Add half the cheese. Sprinkle 1/2 cup of the white cheddar over the bean mixture, distributing it evenly.
6. Pour in the eggs. Pour the egg mixture evenly over the pan. Reduce heat to medium-low. Cook without stirring for 6–8 minutes, until the edges are set and the center is just barely jiggly.
7. Broil to finish. Sprinkle the remaining 1/4 cup of white cheddar over the top. Transfer the skillet to the broiler and broil for 2–3 minutes, watching closely, until the top is golden and the center is fully set.
8. Rest and serve. Remove from the oven and let the frittata rest in the pan for 5 minutes. Scatter fresh parsley over the top, slice into wedges, and serve directly from the skillet.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 310 | Protein: 21g | Fat: 16g | Carbs: 22g | Fiber: 6g | Sodium: 540mg