The Best Frijoles Negros I Never Had
I did not grow up eating arroz y frijoles negros/black beans and rice. This would not be extraordinary except that I’m a Cuban raised in Miami. It would be easier for me to list the things that we don’t serve with black beans and rice, and they’re mostly desserts. On weekends, we would go to my grandparent’s apartment where they would spend all morning preparing a large, traditional meal for us that would of course include frijoles negros. I would sit on the yellow shag carpet in their living room watching reruns of I Love Lucy (I thought it was a documentary) and old Tarzan movies, while they cooked. I knew lunch was almost ready when I heard my grandfather frying the egg that would go on my white rice in place of the beans everyone else would be having. There was never a tantrum, I had just decided I didn’t like them and they were never forced. We’d all sit down to it, and I’d hear my parents and sister rave about the incredible frijoles they were having without feeling the slightest inclination. Abuelo Peláez was my favorite and I was his. Secretly, I think I loved the exception he made for me. Plus, he made the most incredible fried eggs I’ve ever tasted. The tops were a translucent white and the yolks were the perfect kind of runny.
hungry sofia 