Easy Black Bean Tacos

The singles mixer is Sunday. I have thought about it. I have overthought about it. I have tried on four outfits, returned them all to the closet, and settled on the dress I wear to book club, which is a perfectly reasonable navy dress that says "I am a person who reads novels and eats well and is not trying too hard." Vanessa approved. She also said, "Wear the earrings Mama gave you," meaning Brenda's pearl studs, the ones I inherited, the ones that still smell like her perfume if I hold them close enough. I will wear them. I will take Mama to the mixer. She would want to be there. She would want to critique every man in the room. She would lean over and whisper, "He's short" or "He can't cook" or "His shoes are wrong," and she would be right about all of it.

I'm nervous. I haven't been nervous about a social situation since college. I am thirty-seven years old, I have survived cancer and divorce and grief and I am nervous about a church mixer where the median age is forty-five and the refreshments include fruit punch. This is absurd. I am going anyway. Because the thought I had at the Super Bowl party — the thought about someone on the couch, someone at the counter, someone who brings coffee — that thought is still on the shelf. It's not dusty. It's waiting.

Marcus, without being told, made dinner Tuesday. Ground turkey tacos, his specialty now, his signature, the dish he owns the way Mama owned fried chicken. He set the table (without being asked!) and served Jasmine and me and said, "I'm taking care of you tonight." He is thirteen. He said "I'm taking care of you tonight" and I ate his tacos and I didn't cry because I've gotten better at not crying, but I was close. I was very close. Because my son sees me. He sees the weight. He sees the approaching anniversary. He sees his mother who carries everything and he decided, on a Tuesday, to carry the dinner. That boy. That impossible, brilliant, gentle, stubborn boy. Brenda's boy.

Set the Table Saturday: the girls made their own recipes. No instruction from me. Each girl cooked a dish she'd developed or adapted on her own. Tasha made a chicken and rice dish that her grandmother used to make, recreated from memory and taste. I ate it and it was good — really good, flavored with love and guesswork and the kind of cooking that happens when you trust your hands. The circle is complete. The girls are teaching themselves now. I'm still here. But the kitchen is theirs.

Marcus made his version with ground turkey — that’s his signature, and I’ll never take it from him — but the taco that lives in our rotation, the one I reach for when I want that same warmth without the grocery run, is this black bean version. It came out of one of our Set the Table sessions, adapted and riffed on until it felt like ours. If my son taught me anything that Tuesday, it’s that a taco can be an act of love. This one is too.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 30 min | Servings: 4 (2 tacos each)

Ingredients

1 tablespoon olive oil
1/2 medium yellow onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon chili powder
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper (optional)
2 cans (15 oz each) black beans, drained and rinsed
1/3 cup low-sodium chicken or vegetable broth
Salt and black pepper to taste
8 small corn or flour tortillas, warmed
1 cup shredded cabbage or romaine lettuce
1/2 cup pico de gallo or fresh salsa
1/2 cup shredded Mexican blend cheese
1 avocado, sliced
Sour cream and lime wedges, for serving
Fresh cilantro, for garnish (optional)

Instructions

Sauté the aromatics. Heat olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the diced onion and cook for 4–5 minutes until softened and translucent. Add the garlic and cook for another 30 seconds, stirring constantly, until fragrant.
Bloom the spices. Add the chili powder, cumin, smoked paprika, and cayenne (if using) directly to the onion and garlic. Stir continuously for about 1 minute to toast the spices and build a deeper base of flavor.
Add the beans. Pour in the drained black beans and broth. Stir everything together, then use the back of a spoon or a potato masher to lightly mash about one-third of the beans — this thickens the mixture and helps it hold together in the taco.
Simmer and season. Reduce heat to medium-low and simmer for 8–10 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the mixture is thick and cohesive. Taste and adjust salt, pepper, and spice level as needed.
Warm the tortillas. While the beans finish, warm the tortillas directly over a gas flame for 20–30 seconds per side, or in a dry skillet over medium-high heat until softened and lightly charred at the edges. Wrap in a clean kitchen towel to keep warm.
Assemble the tacos. Spoon the black bean mixture into each tortilla. Top with shredded cabbage or lettuce, pico de gallo, cheese, and avocado slices. Finish with sour cream, a squeeze of fresh lime, and cilantro if you’re using it.
Serve immediately. These are best eaten right away while the beans are warm and the tortillas are still soft. Set everything out taqueria-style and let everyone build their own — that’s the Set the Table way.

Nutrition (per serving)

Easy Black Bean Tacos — The Night My Son Took Care of Me