Beans, beans, the musical fruit
Today we’re making Chiles en Nogada (stuffed poblano peppers) and frijoles (stewed beans) for a dinner party tonight. I’ve been running up and down the stairs checking on the beans because I once had a horrible bean experience and I never want to repeat it.
When I was nineteen I married a Mexican guy and we lived in the attic of his mom’s house while I was gestating First Born. My ex-MIL was an illegal immigrant, and like most of the family, did not speak any English. My Spanish was pretty weak but she was still able to teach me to cook some of Ray’s favorite dishes, so that he wouldn’t starve once he moved away with his little blonde gringa.
One day she was going out shopping with her daughters and she asked me to watch the pot of beans. “Sure,” I said, paying more attention to “St. Elmo’s Fire” than what she was saying. I snuggled deeper into the red velvet couch with sticky plastic upholstery covers, and I believe ex-MIL became concerned. “You’re gonna let them burn,” she called on her way out the door.
“I got this!” I grumbled. I was a grown-up, married woman now and I could handle a pot of freakin’ beans.
Around the time that Rob Lowe is comforting Demi Moore with a blowtorch in that cold apartment, I started to smell something burning. Craaaaaaap! The beans were indeed burned into a charcoal mess in the bottom of the pan, but the top layer of beans had actually exploded and sent little shrapnel flecks all over the stove and the ceiling. The smell was awful, like a mixture of burned plastic and newspaper.
Even though it was January, I opened all the windows in the house and sprayed Lysol around the room. I scraped out the bad beans into the garbage and took the bag out to the can. I scrubbed the stove and the part of the ceiling that I could reach. Then I started a new pot of beans.
As soon as ex-MIL walked in the house, she said, “I told you that you were going the burn the beans.”
P.S. My very first post on my new blog, Teen Tamer, is now published. Teen Tamer is a parenting advice blog on Capessa.com, a marketing venture for Proctor & Gamble. Enjoy!
Published by angelawd on January 18th, 2008 tagged My Ex-Life
January 21st, 2008 at 2:01 pm
mmmm. The stuffed peppers sound wonderful.
The Teen Tamer blog looks great! Way to go!!
January 21st, 2008 at 2:21 pm
Oh, I’ve had some pretty embarrassing mother in law stories myself. Like the first time I met her, I shook her hand, and then opened my mouth to say something and accidentally burped in her face! She still laughs about that.
January 22nd, 2008 at 8:13 am
Haven’t we all smelled up our houses with cooking experiences we would like to forget????