Corn and Black Bean Salad

Memorial Day. Derek's first grill of the year. The man approaches the grill with the reverence of a priest approaching the altar — he's cleaned the grates, arranged the charcoal in a pyramid, lit it with the single-match technique he learned from YouTube, and now stands over it with a pair of tongs and the expression of a man communing with fire. I love watching him grill. It's the one time he loses his project-manager composure and becomes something primal.

Marcus came down from Atlanta for the weekend — he's been doing summer research again with the psychology professor, living with a friend in Buckhead. He brought Keisha. BROUGHT KEISHA. To the house. To the table. To the family. She walked in the door and she was — warm. That's the word. Warm like a kitchen. She shook Derek's hand, she hugged Zoe like they'd met before (they hadn't), she introduced herself to Curtis and said, "Marcus tells me you're the toughest food critic in Atlanta," and Curtis — CURTIS — smiled. Smiled at a girl Marcus brought home. The smile was worth more than every Yelp review in the history of the internet.

Keisha sat in my kitchen and watched me make potato salad and asked questions. Not polite questions — real questions. "What kind of mustard?" "How long do you cook the eggs?" "Why pickle relish and not pickles?" She was learning. She was paying attention. She was a nursing student who studies by asking questions and she was studying my kitchen the way she studies anatomy. Marcus watched her from the doorway and his face — his face was Derek's face when Derek watches me. The look of a man who has found the person who makes the world make sense.

Grilled burgers, dogs, Derek's jerk chicken. Isaiah ate four burgers. Four. The boy is a competitive eater disguised as a basketball player. Zoe and Keisha bonded over something on Zoe's phone. Curtis ate a burger and said, "The girl can stay." That's it. "The girl can stay." The Jackson stamp of approval, delivered in five words.

Keisha asked about the potato salad, but she also hovered near the bowl of corn and black bean salad I’d set out — picked up a fork, tasted it, and said, “Okay, what is that.” Not a question. A declaration. It’s the dish that always disappears first at our cookouts, and it’s simple enough that I could walk her through it right there at the counter while Derek held court at the grill. If she’s going to be part of this table — and Curtis’s five words suggest she is — she’ll want this recipe in her rotation before next summer.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 15 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

2 cans (15 oz each) black beans, rinsed and drained
2 cans (15 oz each) whole kernel corn, drained (or 3 cups fresh or frozen corn, thawed)
1 red bell pepper, diced
1 orange or yellow bell pepper, diced
1/2 red onion, finely diced
1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
1/4 cup fresh cilantro, chopped
1 jalapeño, seeded and minced (optional)
3 tablespoons olive oil
3 tablespoons fresh lime juice (about 2 limes)
1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
1 teaspoon cumin
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon salt, or to taste
1/4 teaspoon black pepper

Instructions

Drain and rinse. Pour the black beans into a colander, rinse well under cold water, and drain thoroughly. Drain the corn in the same colander.
Chop the vegetables. Dice the red and orange bell peppers into small, uniform pieces. Finely dice the red onion. Halve the cherry tomatoes. Mince the jalapeño if using, removing seeds for less heat.
Make the dressing. In a small bowl or jar, whisk together the olive oil, fresh lime juice, red wine vinegar, cumin, garlic powder, salt, and black pepper until well combined.
Combine. In a large bowl, add the black beans, corn, bell peppers, red onion, cherry tomatoes, and cilantro. Pour the dressing over the top and toss gently until everything is evenly coated.
Taste and adjust. Taste the salad and adjust seasoning as needed — more lime juice for brightness, more salt, or a pinch of cayenne for heat.
Chill or serve immediately. The salad is great right away, but even better after 30 minutes in the refrigerator, which lets the flavors meld. Serve cold or at room temperature alongside grilled meats.

Nutrition (per serving)

Corn and Black Bean Salad — The Side Dish Keisha Was Taking Notes On