Pork, Bean & Rice Burritos

Sean turned thirty-seven Saturday. His birthday fell in an off-cycle week, which had been part of my scheduling calculations since November, and he was at his strongest. He came downstairs at 9. He made pancakes from the stool. He had a mug of coffee. He sat at the kitchen table while Liam drew him a card and Nora tried to draw him a card and ended up drawing a circle with some lines coming out of it that she called "Daddy." He hung them both on the fridge. He told Nora her drawing was the best drawing he had ever received. Nora said "thank you, Daddy." Clean sentence.

My mother came at noon with a cake. Grace drove down from Worcester with Sean's sister. Patrick came with Colleen and the baby. Meghan brought Aidan. Danny drove down from New London. Linda came. Father Donnelly was on a retreat and sent a card. The house was full at 2 PM. Twenty-three people. Sean sat in the corner chair and received the family in waves. He held his namesake nephew for twenty minutes. He laughed at three of Danny's jokes. He thanked everyone for coming. He ate a piece of chocolate cake.

We sang Happy Birthday. Liam stood on a chair next to Sean and sang loudly. Nora sang about half of the right words. Sean blew out the candles in two breaths. He closed his eyes. He smiled. He opened his eyes.

I made pork ragu over polenta for dinner Friday — the long-braised ragu, shoulder and pancetta and the red wine and the milk at the end, over creamy parmesan polenta. It was the meal. Sean ate a full bowl. He said "Kate. This is my birthday meal." I said "I know. I have been saving this one." He said "I love you." I said "I love you too." The kids were at the table. No one was pretending anything was not happening. But we were all there. We were all at the table. Sean was sitting up. Sean was eating his birthday meal. Sean was thirty-seven.

Sunday was a quiet day. Sean slept most of it. Grace stayed with us until Monday. My mother stayed Saturday night. Linda stopped by Sunday afternoon for an hour and sat in the kitchen with my mother and I and had tea. Linda is now fully embedded in the family. She is my mother's generation. They know each other now. They call each other. My mother has given her the soda bread recipe. Linda is making it next week. These are the mergers of aging neighborhoods.

I have my fourth set of exams in two weeks. I am studying. I am not sleeping enough. I am running on caffeine and protein and the grim stubbornness that is my one actual talent. Dr. Pei said Thursday that Sean's labs were "stable, good." I will take stable and good. Cycle 5 starts next Tuesday.

This is the recipe I reach for when a meal has to carry more weight than a meal is supposed to carry — when the people at the table need to feel held as much as fed. That Friday night, Sean ate a full bowl and called it his birthday meal, and I knew I’d chosen right. It’s a straightforward, deeply satisfying pork and rice dinner, the kind that fills a kitchen with a smell that says someone here is being taken care of. If you’re in a February grind of your own, this is the one to make.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 35 min | Total Time: 55 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

1 lb ground pork
1 cup long-grain white rice
2 cups low-sodium chicken broth
1 can (15 oz) black beans, drained and rinsed
1 can (10 oz) diced tomatoes with green chiles, undrained
1 medium yellow onion, finely diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp chili powder
1/2 tsp smoked paprika
1/2 tsp salt, plus more to taste
1/4 tsp black pepper
6 large flour tortillas (10-inch)
1 cup shredded Mexican cheese blend
Sour cream and salsa, for serving

Instructions

Cook the rice. Combine rice and chicken broth in a medium saucepan. Bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce to low, cover, and simmer 18 minutes until liquid is fully absorbed. Remove from heat and fluff with a fork. Set aside.
Brown the pork. Heat a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add ground pork and cook, breaking it into crumbles with a spoon, until no longer pink, about 7—8 minutes. Drain excess fat, leaving about 1 teaspoon in the pan.
Build the base. Reduce heat to medium. Add the diced onion to the skillet and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and translucent, about 4 minutes. Add the garlic, cumin, chili powder, smoked paprika, salt, and pepper. Stir and cook 1 minute until fragrant.
Simmer the filling. Stir in the diced tomatoes with their liquid and the drained black beans. Bring to a gentle simmer and cook 8—10 minutes, stirring occasionally, until most of the liquid has reduced and the mixture is thick and saucy. Taste and adjust salt as needed.
Warm the tortillas. Wrap the stack of tortillas in a damp paper towel and microwave for 45—60 seconds, or warm them one at a time in a dry skillet over medium heat for 20 seconds per side.
Assemble the burritos. Lay a warm tortilla flat. Spoon a generous 1/3 cup of rice down the center, followed by a heaping 1/3 cup of the pork and bean mixture. Top with a sprinkle of shredded cheese. Fold the sides of the tortilla in, then roll from the bottom up, tucking firmly as you go. Repeat with remaining tortillas.
Optional: Toast the burritos. For a crispy finish, place assembled burritos seam-side down in a dry skillet or griddle over medium heat. Cook 2—3 minutes per side until golden and lightly crisped.
Serve. Serve immediately with sour cream and salsa on the side.

Nutrition (per serving)

Pork, Bean & Rice Burritos — The Meal You Save for When It Matters