Southwestern Goulash

November 2034. Thirteenth state championship. Trevon Ashford's last game in an Eldorado Prep uniform. He ran for 211 yards and three touchdowns. We won 42-17 and it wasn't as close as the score might suggest — we were up 35-10 heading into the fourth quarter and I played Trevon one final series in the fourth, his last, and the crowd gave him a standing ovation before the snap. A standing ovation before the ball was snapped. I've been coaching for a long time and that doesn't happen often.

After the game I found him near the bus and I shook his hand and told him something I've only told three players in fifteen years: that watching him play was a privilege. He said thank you, Coach. He said he learned things here. I told him the learning was mutual. He'll be at a major program next fall — the recruiters have been circling since his sophomore year and I expect him to be an early draft pick in four or five years. He's going to make his mother's life easier and he's going to run on stages larger than any I can offer, and I'm proud of him in the particular, specific way I'm proud of the ones who came through the program and went on to become themselves.

Thirteen championships in sixteen seasons. I'm in my mid-fifties and I'm still here. I still love Mondays. I still love the first day of camp. I still believe in what happens on a practice field when you push boys past what they thought they could do. But Elena's question from two years ago stays with me. When are you going to have time? I don't have an answer yet. But I'm aware of it. More aware every year.

The bus ride home after a championship is always quiet in the best way — everybody spent, everybody carrying something they can’t quite put into words. When I finally walked through my door that November night, after shaking Trevon’s hand and watching him disappear into a future I won’t be part of, I didn’t want anything complicated. I wanted one pot, big heat, and something that smelled like it meant something. Southwestern Goulash has been my end-of-season ritual for years now — the kind of food that gives you room to sit inside a moment instead of rushing straight past it.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 30 minutes | Total Time: 40 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

1 1/2 lbs ground beef (80/20)
1 medium yellow onion, diced
1 green bell pepper, diced
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 can (15 oz) diced tomatoes with green chiles
1 can (15 oz) tomato sauce
1 can (15 oz) black beans, drained and rinsed
1 cup frozen corn kernels
2 cups low-sodium beef broth
2 cups elbow macaroni, uncooked
2 tsp chili powder
1 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp smoked paprika
1/2 tsp dried oregano
1/2 tsp salt, plus more to taste
1/4 tsp black pepper
1 cup shredded Mexican blend cheese, for topping
Sour cream and sliced green onions, optional for serving

Instructions

Brown the beef. Heat a large deep skillet or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add the ground beef and cook, breaking it apart with a spoon, until no pink remains, about 6–8 minutes. Drain excess fat.
Soften the vegetables. Add the diced onion and bell pepper to the pot. Cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 4 minutes. Stir in the garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
Build the base. Add the chili powder, cumin, smoked paprika, oregano, salt, and pepper. Stir to coat the meat and vegetables evenly in the spices.
Add the liquids and tomatoes. Pour in the diced tomatoes with their juices, tomato sauce, and beef broth. Stir everything together and bring to a boil over high heat.
Cook the pasta. Stir in the uncooked elbow macaroni. Reduce heat to medium, cover, and cook for 12–14 minutes, stirring every few minutes to prevent sticking, until the pasta is tender and has absorbed most of the liquid.
Finish with beans and corn. Stir in the black beans and frozen corn. Cook uncovered for 2–3 minutes until heated through. Taste and adjust salt as needed.
Serve. Ladle into bowls and top with shredded cheese. Add sour cream and green onions if desired. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Southwestern Goulash — The Meal I Cook When Words Aren’t Enough