By Internship ended Friday. The five of us went for dinner together — a long table at a Creole restaurant near the river where we ate for two hours and didn't want it to end. Deja brought her grandmother's pickles, the same ones she'd had on the field boat in June, and we ate them alongside everything and her grandmother's recipe made it to the last dinner the same way it made it to the first field day: without recipe, carried in hands and memory. We exchanged numbers and emails and promises and I believe in those promises. This group did something to me that will last.
The week before school starts has a particular texture I've known my whole life and never tired of: the sharpening of something that had gone soft over summer, a readiness that arrives without being summoned. Senior year. I have turned the words over in my mind all week, listening for what they mean. They mean the last of certain things and the first of others and a year of living in that transition.
College applications open September first at most schools. I've been building my final list: Howard, Spelman, Xavier, Cornell, LSU, Tulane, and Duke — seven schools, all of them real choices, none of them safety nets in the way people use that word dismissively. MawMaw said the list was good and asked me which one was my heart school and I said I didn't know yet and she said that was an honest answer and better than a performed one.
Mama made back-to-school gumbo on Sunday. It's not an official tradition — I named it just now — but she makes gumbo at the end of every summer the way some families do on New Year's. The roux dark, the okra giving body, the chicken and andouille and shrimp all finding their places. Senior year begins tomorrow. The pot is on the stove. The year starts now.
Mama’s gumbo is hers and I’d never try to recreate it here — some recipes live only in the hands that make them, the way Deja’s grandmother’s pickles do. But the feeling behind it — a heavy, warming pot at the turn of a season, something that says this moment matters without saying it out loud — that feeling translates. These cornbread-topped frijoles carry the same logic: a dark, sturdy base with something golden and yielding on top, built for a table where people linger. Make it the Sunday before something big. Let it sit.
Cornbread-Topped Frijoles
Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 35 min | Total Time: 55 min | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 2 cans (15 oz each) pinto beans, drained and rinsed
- 1 can (14.5 oz) diced fire-roasted tomatoes
- 1 medium yellow onion, diced
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 poblano pepper, seeded and diced
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- 1 teaspoon ground cumin
- 1 teaspoon smoked paprika
- 1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
- 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- 1 cup chicken or vegetable broth
- 1 cup shredded sharp cheddar cheese, divided
- For the cornbread topping:
- 1 cup yellow cornmeal
- 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
- 1 tablespoon sugar
- 1 teaspoon baking powder
- 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 3/4 cup buttermilk
- 1 large egg
- 3 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
Instructions
- Preheat the oven. Heat your oven to 400°F. Lightly grease a 9x13-inch baking dish or a large oven-safe skillet.
- Build the frijoles base. Warm olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the onion and poblano and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 6 minutes. Add garlic, cumin, smoked paprika, oregano, salt, and black pepper, and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
- Simmer the beans. Stir in the pinto beans, diced tomatoes, and broth. Bring to a gentle simmer and cook for 8–10 minutes, until the liquid reduces slightly and the mixture thickens. Taste and adjust salt. Stir in 1/2 cup of the cheddar, then transfer the mixture to your prepared baking dish.
- Mix the cornbread batter. In a medium bowl, whisk together the cornmeal, flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. In a small bowl, whisk together the buttermilk, egg, and melted butter. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry and stir until just combined — do not overmix.
- Top and bake. Spoon the cornbread batter evenly over the hot bean mixture, spreading gently to the edges. Scatter the remaining 1/2 cup cheddar over the top. Bake for 20–25 minutes, until the cornbread is set, golden at the edges, and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.
- Rest before serving. Let the dish rest 5 minutes before scooping. Serve with hot sauce, sour cream, or sliced scallions as desired.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 420 | Protein: 18g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 56g | Fiber: 10g | Sodium: 680mg