Red sauce and black beans are a huge part of my being. They are as important to my genetic make up as my X and Y chromosomes. Italian and Cuban. A tantalizing combo that makes me who I am. It gives me my louder than life persona, my amazing hair, the olive in my skin, and my hips! Oh, these hips!
Back to red sauce and black beans....
Last weekend, I decided to make a big batch of each. At the same time.
Hard work I tell ya.
Hours and hours of stirring, and boiling, reducing to a simmer, tasting, adding, dashing, and chopping onions and garlic to really make things amazing.
My house smelt... different. But so unbelievably deliciously wonderful.
Onion, garlic, basil, green pepper, Italian sausage, ground beef, tomato, beans...
I can’t explain the smell, but it was decadent.
My Italian grandmother passed 4 years before I was born. And my Cuban grandmother passed when I was just 3 years old. I would do anything to have the opportunity to cook right alongside them. Watching their techniques, learning their tricks, and taking in their personalities to see where I might have gotten some of my traits. I would ask them how they fell in love with my grandfathers. How they migrated to this city, that I call home. What’s their favourite colors? What’s their favourite songs?
And I would ask them the secret.
The secret to a marriage that followed their vows
And raising a family of 5 healthy children.
And raising a family of 5 healthy children.
I would then thank them.
For my olive skin, my wonderful hair, and these hips... ohhhh these hips!
And for black beans and red sauce.
For my olive skin, my wonderful hair, and these hips... ohhhh these hips!
And for black beans and red sauce.
Because I love black beans and red sauce with every inch of my heart.
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