Tortilla Pie — Feeding Yourself on the Months That Count

Officially trying. I know I said we started in March, and we did start in March, but this is the month Dr. Yoon and I agreed is the real start — the month where Stephanie Park-Chen is actively, intentionally, with full emotional preparation, trying to make a person. The prenatal vitamins are daily. The tracking app is open. The ovulation kit is in the bathroom drawer. James and I have discussed timing with the clinical precision of two engineers optimizing a system, which is both romantic and deeply unromantic and perfectly us.

I told Dr. Yoon on Monday that I was afraid. Not of pregnancy, not of childbirth, not of the physical things — I am afraid of the thing underneath all the physical things. She said, "What thing?" I said, "That I will have a child and the child will grow up and the child will one day look at me the way I looked at Karen for twenty years — with love and also with an accusation: you should have given me more." She said, "Stephanie. That is not what happened with Karen." I said, "But it is. I loved Karen and I also wished she had given me Korea and I could not separate those two things for a very long time." She said, "And what did you do with that?" I said, "I found Korea myself." She said, "And your child will find the things you couldn't give them. That is what children do. They fill in the gaps their parents leave, and the filling-in is its own kind of growing." She said, "You will not be a perfect mother. You will be a present one. That is enough." I am holding onto that sentence: You will be a present one.

Karen is stable. The medication is working. She went to book club this week — the first time in two months. She read a mystery novel and had opinions about the ending. David reported this to me with visible relief, as though Karen having opinions about a novel is proof that she is still Karen, which it is. I brought her doenjang jjigae on Wednesday. She ate it slowly, with chopsticks, dropping one piece of tofu. She picked it up. She ate it. We watched Jeopardy together. She got more answers right than I did. She was pleased about this.

Banchan Labs: James has been running the subscription model numbers. His proposal: transition from one-off boxes to a monthly subscription starting in September. $59/month, four recipe cards, all ingredients for two servings of each recipe. Free shipping. Cancel anytime. He presented it to me with a slide deck — a slide deck, at our kitchen table, because James Chen cannot make a proposal without a slide deck. I approved the model. I approved the slide deck. I did not approve the font. He changed the font.

Kevin called to tell me Bridge City Roasters had its best sales week ever. He was giddy — Kevin, giddy, which is a state of being I had forgotten he was capable of. He said, "Steph, we sold 400 bags this week. Four hundred. Lisa cried. I almost cried. I don't cry. But I almost did." I said, "Kevin. You cry. You just don't let anyone see it." He said, "Harsh but accurate." He asked about the baby plan. I told him we were trying. He said, "I'm going to be an uncle." I said, "You're already an uncle in spirit." He said, "I want to be an uncle in fact." Me too, Kevin. Me too.

The recipe this week is a simple kongnamul-guk — soybean sprout soup, one of the most basic Korean soups and one of my favorites. Soybean sprouts, cleaned and trimmed. Anchovy stock. Garlic. Salt. A splash of soy sauce. Gochugaru for heat. Simmer for fifteen minutes. That is all. The soup is clear, clean, nourishing — the kind of soup you eat when your body needs something gentle and your mind needs something quiet. I have been eating this soup a lot lately. My body is preparing for something. I am feeding it accordingly.

The kongnamul-guk I described above is what I make on autopilot—the soup my hands know by heart. But on the nights when I want something that takes a little more intention, something layered and built and assembled with care, I come back to this Tortilla Pie. It’s not Korean, it’s not delicate, and it has nothing to do with soybean sprouts—but there is something about constructing it, layer by layer, that feels right for a month when I am building something too. I made it the night James presented his subscription slide deck at the kitchen table, and we ate it straight from the pan, and it was exactly enough.

Tortilla Pie

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 30 min | Total Time: 45 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

• 6 medium flour tortillas (8-inch)
• 1 lb ground beef or turkey
• 1 can (15 oz) black beans, drained and rinsed
• 1 can (10 oz) diced tomatoes with green chiles, drained
• 1 cup frozen corn, thawed
• 1 packet (1 oz) taco seasoning
• 1/4 cup water
• 2 cups shredded Mexican blend cheese, divided
• 1/2 cup sour cream, for serving
• 1/4 cup sliced green onions, for serving
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• Salt and pepper to taste

Instructions

1. Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 400°F. Lightly grease a 9-inch springform pan or deep-dish pie plate with olive oil or nonstick spray.
2. Cook the filling. Heat olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the ground meat and cook, breaking it apart, until browned and no longer pink, about 6–8 minutes. Drain excess fat.
3. Season the filling. Add the taco seasoning and water to the skillet. Stir well and cook for 2 minutes. Add the black beans, diced tomatoes with chiles, and corn. Stir to combine, then remove from heat. Season with salt and pepper to taste.
4. Layer the pie. Place one tortilla in the bottom of the prepared pan. Spoon about 3/4 cup of the meat filling over it and spread evenly. Sprinkle with a generous handful of cheese. Repeat the layering—tortilla, filling, cheese—until all tortillas and filling are used, finishing with a tortilla on top. Press down gently between each layer.
5. Top and bake. Scatter the remaining cheese over the top tortilla. Cover loosely with foil and bake for 20 minutes. Remove the foil and bake an additional 8–10 minutes, until the cheese is golden and bubbling at the edges.
6. Rest and slice. Let the pie rest for 5 minutes before slicing—this helps the layers hold together. Top with sour cream and green onions. Serve directly from the pan.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 480 | Protein: 28g | Fat: 21g | Carbs: 45g | Fiber: 6g | Sodium: 820mg