New Year's 2023. I make my lists differently now — not resolutions exactly, more like intentions. What I want to be moving toward, not what I want to fix or stop. The distinction matters. Resolutions start from deficit. Intentions start from where you already are.
My intentions for 2023: finish planning the expanded workshop curriculum I've been sketching; find an assistant to help with the channel production; let Mason do more of the cooking videos independently; support Ethan's restaurant path without interfering; write the second book.
The second book. Susan has been asking. Claire has been asking. The first one performed well enough that the publisher wants a follow-up. I have ideas — several of them, different enough that I'm still deciding. One is a teaching book, curriculum-focused, practical. One is another memoir-inflected collection, deeper into the food systems work. One is something else entirely that I'm not ready to say aloud yet.
I made black-eyed peas. Gary ate them without complaint, which after twelve years of this tradition counts as enthusiasm. Noah, ten, informed the table that he'd tried to make them once during the week without telling me and they had not worked out. I asked what went wrong. He said he thought he'd forgotten the ham hock. I said that was probably part of it. He said, "Next year I want to make them." I said, "Next year you can make them." He nodded seriously. The culinary dynasty is taking shape whether I planned it or not.
The black-eyed peas are the ritual, but the rest of New Year’s dinner still needs to show up — and this Six-Layer Dinner has been quietly earning its place on our table for years precisely because it asks nothing of you except patience while it bakes. After a morning of intentions and list-making and one ten-year-old’s very earnest post-mortem on his solo ham-hock experiment, I wanted something I could slide into the oven and walk away from — something layered and slow and certain, the way a good new year should feel. This is that dish.
Six-Layer Dinner
Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 1 hr 30 min | Total Time: 1 hr 50 min | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 1 lb ground beef
- 1 teaspoon salt
- 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
- 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
- 3 medium potatoes, peeled and thinly sliced
- 1 large onion, thinly sliced
- 2 stalks celery, thinly sliced
- 1 (15 oz) can kidney beans or pinto beans, drained and rinsed
- 1 (14.5 oz) can diced tomatoes, undrained
- 1 cup tomato juice or vegetable broth
- 1/2 cup shredded cheddar cheese (optional, for topping)
Instructions
- Preheat oven. Heat oven to 350°F. Lightly grease a deep 9x13-inch baking dish or a large Dutch oven.
- Brown the beef. In a skillet over medium-high heat, brown the ground beef, breaking it up as it cooks. Season with salt, pepper, and garlic powder. Drain excess fat and set aside.
- Layer one — potatoes. Spread the sliced potatoes in an even layer across the bottom of the prepared baking dish. Season lightly with salt and pepper.
- Layer two — onion. Arrange the sliced onion evenly over the potatoes.
- Layer three — celery. Distribute the sliced celery over the onion layer.
- Layer four — beef. Spoon the browned ground beef evenly over the celery.
- Layer five — beans. Spread the drained beans in an even layer over the beef.
- Layer six — tomatoes. Pour the diced tomatoes with their juices over the top, spreading evenly. Pour the tomato juice or broth around the edges of the dish.
- Cover and bake. Cover tightly with aluminum foil and bake for 1 hour and 15 minutes, until the potatoes are completely tender when pierced with a fork.
- Finish and serve. Uncover, sprinkle with cheddar if using, and return to the oven for 10–15 minutes until the top is lightly browned. Let rest 5 minutes before serving.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 340 | Protein: 24g | Fat: 12g | Carbs: 32g | Fiber: 6g | Sodium: 580mg