Home Style Refried Beans

Chloe's cooking camp. Week one. She came home the first day with flour in her hair (genetically consistent) and a grin that could power Nashville for a week. The camp is at the East Nashville community center — real kitchen, real equipment, a chef instructor named Marcus (not THAT Marcus, a different Marcus, a good Marcus, a Marcus who teaches children to julienne) and twelve kids ages eight to twelve. Chloe is the youngest. Chloe is also, by her own account, "the best." The confidence continues to be EXTRAORDINARY.

Day one: knife skills. Chloe learned the proper chef's grip, the claw hand for holding food, and the rocking motion for mincing. She came home and demonstrated on an onion. The onion was perfectly minced. I have been cooking for seventeen years and my onion mince is not as uniform as my nine-year-old's after one day of professional instruction. The line isn't improving. The line is LEAPING.

Day two: eggs. Every cooking education starts with eggs. Scrambled, fried, poached (POACHED — at nine!). She came home and made poached eggs for dinner. The yolks were runny. The whites were set. The technique was flawless. I ate a poached egg made by my daughter and the egg was better than any egg I've ever made because the egg was made by a person I made and the recursion of creation is dizzying when it shows up in a poached egg on a Tuesday.

Blaze update: the cat is still there. Behind the dumpster. Jayden feeds it scraps every evening. The feeding has become a routine. The routine has become a relationship. The relationship is going to become a pet. I can feel it. The trajectory of a six-year-old feeding a stray cat has exactly one destination and that destination is a litter box in my bathroom. I've started looking at pet deposits. The considering has become planning. The planning means it's happening. Jayden doesn't know yet. But the cat knows. The cat has been sitting closer to the door every day. The cat is patient. The cat is a Mitchell.

Fourth of July this weekend. The first real Fourth since 2019. We're going to the park. We're going to see fireworks. We're going to sit on a blanket and watch the sky explode and the kids are going to eat hot dogs and watermelon and I'm going to drink sweet tea and feel the thing I've been missing for two years: the communal joy of people in the same place at the same time, looking up, saying oooh. The oooh. I've missed the oooh.

I made Mama's baked beans — the doctored-canned-beans that have been at every Mitchell cookout since before I was born. Brown sugar, mustard, bacon, baked until bubbly. The beans for the Fourth. The beans that are simple and cheap and perfect and taste like every July I've ever lived. The beans don't change. The July changes. The beans hold.

The beans are the thing I make every single year without thinking twice, because some recipes earn permanent placement in the rotation not by being fancy but by being right — and these home style beans, doctored up the way Mama always made them, are exactly that. With Chloe leaping forward in that kitchen and Jayden one feeding away from adopting a cat and the whole Fourth stretched out ahead of us like a gift, I needed the thing that doesn’t change. I needed the beans. Here’s how I make them.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 30 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

2 cans (15 oz each) pinto beans, drained and rinsed, 1/4 cup liquid reserved
2 tablespoons lard or vegetable oil
1/2 medium yellow onion, finely diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1/4 teaspoon chili powder
1/2 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 cup reserved bean liquid or water

Instructions

Soften the onion. Heat lard or oil in a large heavy skillet over medium heat. Add the diced onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and lightly golden, about 5 to 6 minutes.
Add the garlic. Stir in the minced garlic and cook for 1 minute, until fragrant. Don’t let it brown.
Add the beans and liquid. Pour in the drained pinto beans along with the 1/4 cup reserved bean liquid or water. Stir everything together and bring to a gentle simmer.
Season. Add the cumin, chili powder, salt, and black pepper. Stir to combine and taste, adjusting seasoning as needed.
Mash to your texture. Use a potato masher or the back of a large spoon to mash the beans directly in the skillet. Mash to your preferred consistency — leave some beans whole for a rustic, home style texture, or mash thoroughly for a smoother spread.
Simmer and thicken. Reduce heat to medium-low and cook, stirring frequently, for 10 to 12 minutes until the beans have thickened and the flavors have melded together. If beans get too thick, stir in a splash of water to loosen.
Serve. Taste one final time for salt and serve hot alongside your cookout spread. These reheat beautifully and hold well in a low oven.

Nutrition (per serving)

Home Style Refried Beans — The Beans That Hold