Earline’s Red Beans and Rice

August. The month everything changes. Or at least the month everything starts to change, which is really the harder part — the starting. The middle is momentum and the end is relief, but the start is just you, standing at a door you're not sure you can walk through, and walking through it anyway.

I bought my textbooks this week. $387. Three hundred and eighty-seven dollars for six books that I will read until the spines crack and the pages are covered in highlighter and my brain has absorbed enough dental anatomy to pass a licensing exam. Financial aid didn't cover books. I paid with the money I'd saved from the Memorial Day tips and the extra shifts and the $40 Mama slipped into my purse last week that she pretended she didn't. I pretended I didn't notice. We're both excellent pretenders. It's a Mitchell family skill.

Chloe starts pre-K in three weeks. New school year, same school, same backpack (I washed it and it looks almost new; she doesn't know the difference and I'm not telling her). I took her school shopping at Walmart — new crayons, a folder, a pack of those fat pencils that kindergarteners use. Total: $14. She acted like we'd been to the toy store. "NEW CRAYONS, MAMA! SIXTY-FOUR OF THEM!" The sixty-four box. Not the twenty-four. I splurged. She deserved the sixty-four box. Everyone deserves the sixty-four box at least once.

Jayden is saying more words now: Mama, no, Coco, ball, up, and something that sounds like "nana" which we think means banana OR Lorraine. Context helps. If he's reaching for fruit, banana. If he's reaching for an older woman who smells like Kroger and unconditional love, Lorraine.

I am scared. I am so scared. I wrote that in my journal — yes, I keep a journal now, because Tanisha said she keeps one and I thought, why not, maybe writing things down will make them less terrifying. It does not. But it does make the terror feel witnessed, which is something. I wrote: "I am scared that I will fail. I am scared that I will succeed and my kids will suffer for it. I am scared that I'm not smart enough. I am scared that being scared means I'm not brave enough." And then I wrote: "Earline was scared too. She came to Nashville from Alabama with nothing and she fed a family. Lorraine was scared too. She raised three kids alone after Danny left. Mitchell women are scared. Mitchell women do it anyway."

I made a big pot of red beans and rice on Sunday. Earline's recipe — dried red beans soaked overnight, cooked with ham hock, onion, celery, garlic, Cajun seasoning, over rice. It takes all day. You start it in the morning and by dinner the whole house smells like New Orleans, which is funny because Earline was from Alabama, not Louisiana, but she married a man from Baton Rouge once (before my grandfather) and kept the recipe. That's Earline for you — the man didn't last but the beans did.

One week. One week until I sit in that classroom. I'm ready. I'm not ready. I'm going anyway.

When I finished writing those words in my journal — “Mitchell women are scared. Mitchell women do it anyway” — I knew I needed to cook something that tasted like them. Earline’s red beans and rice isn’t a quick weeknight dinner; it’s an all-day act of faith, the kind where you commit in the morning without knowing exactly how it’ll turn out, and by evening the whole house smells like proof that it was worth it. That felt right. Here’s how I made it.

Prep Time: 15 min (plus overnight soak) | Cook Time: 3 to 4 hours | Total Time: All day | Servings: 8

Ingredients

1 lb dried red kidney beans, soaked overnight and drained
1 smoked ham hock
1 large yellow onion, diced
3 stalks celery, diced
6 cloves garlic, minced
2 tbsp Cajun seasoning
1 tsp dried thyme
2 bay leaves
1/2 tsp black pepper
6 cups water or low-sodium chicken broth (plus more as needed)
Salt to taste
4 cups cooked long-grain white rice, for serving
Sliced green onions, for garnish (optional)

Instructions

Soak the beans. The night before, place dried red kidney beans in a large bowl and cover with cold water by at least 2 inches. Let soak overnight, 8 to 12 hours. Drain and rinse well before cooking.
Build the pot. In a large heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven, combine the soaked beans, ham hock, diced onion, celery, and garlic. Pour in 6 cups of water or broth.
Season. Add Cajun seasoning, dried thyme, bay leaves, and black pepper. Stir everything together and bring to a boil over medium-high heat.
Simmer low and slow. Reduce heat to low, cover with the lid slightly ajar, and simmer for 2 1/2 to 3 1/2 hours, stirring every 30 minutes or so. Add water 1/2 cup at a time if the beans look dry — they should stay just barely covered. The beans are ready when they’re completely tender and the liquid has gone thick and creamy.
Pull the ham hock. Remove the ham hock from the pot and set it aside until cool enough to handle. Pull the meat from the bone, discard the bone and skin, and stir the shredded meat back into the beans. Remove and discard the bay leaves.
Make it creamy. Use the back of a wooden spoon or a potato masher to smash about 1/4 of the beans against the side of the pot. Stir to incorporate — this thickens the pot without adding anything extra. Taste and adjust salt.
Serve. Ladle generously over cooked white rice. Top with sliced green onions if you like. The pot only gets better the next day.

Nutrition (per serving)

Earline’s Red Beans and Rice — The All-Day Recipe That Tastes Like Every Woman Who Was Scared and Did It Anyway