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Mexi Mac Skillet — One Pan, One Fire, All the Warmth You Need

January 2024. Winter in Memphis, 65 years old, and the cold has settled into the house on Deadrick Avenue the way cold settles into old bones — persistently, without malice, just the physics of aging and December. Rosetta has the thermostat set at 74, our eternal compromise, and I cook warming things: stews and soups and slow-braised meats that fill the house with steam and flavor.

Rosetta beside me through the week, steady as ever, the woman who runs this household with the precision of a hospital ward and the heart of a mother who has loved fiercely for 40 years of marriage.

I made smoked chicken this week — a simple cook that belies its depth. Rubbed with salt, pepper, garlic, and paprika, smoked at 275 over hickory for three hours. The skin was mahogany, the meat juicy, and the first bite carried the kind of flavor that makes you close your eyes, which is the highest compliment food can earn: the involuntary closing of the eyes, the body's admission that what it's tasting is too good to see.

Another week in the book. Another seven days of tending fires — the one in the smoker, the one in the marriage, the one in the family, the one in the church. Each fire needs something different: wood, attention, food, faith. But the tending is the same for all of them: show up, add what's needed, wait patiently, trust the process. Low and slow. Always. Low and slow.

The smoked chicken got its glory this week, but once Rosetta and I had picked it clean, I still had a cold Tuesday night staring me down and a refrigerator full of odds and ends — ground beef, pasta, a can of tomatoes with green chiles. That’s when this Mexi Mac Skillet earns its place in the rotation: one pan, one fire on the stove, twenty minutes, and the kind of heat that travels from the kitchen straight to your chest. Some fires don’t need hickory wood or three hours — they just need a good skillet and the willingness to show up.

Mexi Mac Skillet

Prep Time: 5 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 25 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

  • 1 lb ground beef (80/20)
  • 1 small yellow onion, diced
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 packet (1 oz) taco seasoning
  • 1 can (10 oz) diced tomatoes with green chiles (such as Ro-Tel), undrained
  • 1 can (15 oz) black beans, drained and rinsed
  • 2 cups low-sodium chicken or beef broth
  • 1 1/2 cups elbow macaroni, uncooked
  • 1/2 cup frozen corn
  • 1 1/2 cups shredded Mexican blend cheese, divided
  • Salt and black pepper to taste
  • Sour cream, sliced jalapeños, and fresh cilantro for topping (optional)

Instructions

  1. Brown the beef. Heat a large, deep skillet over medium-high heat. Add the ground beef and cook, breaking it apart with a spoon, until no pink remains, about 5–7 minutes. Drain excess fat.
  2. Build the base. Add the diced onion to the skillet and cook 2–3 minutes until softened. Stir in the garlic and taco seasoning; cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
  3. Add the liquids and pasta. Pour in the diced tomatoes with chiles, black beans, broth, and frozen corn. Stir well to combine. Bring to a boil, then add the uncooked elbow macaroni and stir to submerge.
  4. Simmer until tender. Reduce heat to medium, cover, and cook for 10–12 minutes, stirring once halfway through, until the pasta is tender and most of the liquid has been absorbed. If the skillet gets too dry before the pasta is done, add a splash of broth.
  5. Melt the cheese. Remove the lid and stir in 1 cup of the shredded cheese until fully melted and incorporated. Taste and adjust salt and pepper.
  6. Finish and serve. Sprinkle the remaining 1/2 cup of cheese over the top. Let it melt for 1–2 minutes off the heat. Serve directly from the skillet with sour cream, jalapeños, and cilantro if desired.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 580 | Protein: 38g | Fat: 24g | Carbs: 52g | Fiber: 7g | Sodium: 920mg

Earl Johnson
About the cook who shared this
Earl Johnson
Week 410 of Earl’s 30-year story · Memphis, Tennessee
Earl "Big E" Johnson is a sixty-seven-year-old retired postal carrier, a forty-two-year husband, and a Memphis BBQ legend who learned to smoke pork shoulder at his Uncle Clyde's stand when he was eleven years old. He lost his daughter Denise to sickle cell disease at twenty-three, and he honors her every year by smoking her favorite meal on her birthday and setting a plate at the table. His dry rub uses sixteen spices he keeps in a mayonnaise jar. He will not share the recipe. Not even with Rosetta.

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