Mexican Beef — The Thursday Tired, and the Good Kind of Full

Sven and I made our morning circuit — kitchen, back hallway, front porch, lakefront walk, kitchen again, breakfast for both of us. The same circuit every day for years. The repetition is its own grace. There are people who would find such a routine unbearable, and there are people who would find it salvific. I am the second kind. The routine is the rope I hold in the dark, and the rope is what gets me from one end of a day to the other. Mamma's hands shake more than they did last month. I do not point it out. I notice. I notice everything. The shake is small — barely visible when she is at rest, more visible when she lifts her coffee cup, most visible when she is trying to thread a needle. She still threads needles. She still bakes. She still calls me on Tuesdays at 10. The hands shake. The shaking does not stop the doing. The doing is what Mamma is. Karin and I talked Sunday. Stockholm in winter is dark. Duluth in winter is dark. We compared darknesses. We laughed. Karin said: "Linda, do you remember the time Pappa drove us to Two Harbors in a blizzard because Mamma wanted lutefisk?" I said yes. The story unspooled across the phone for twenty minutes. I had forgotten half of it. Karin remembered all of it. The memory was, briefly, complete between us. I cooked Vegetable beef stew this week. Beef chuck browned hard, then carrots, parsnips, turnips, onion, garlic, beef stock, tomato paste for body, bay and thyme. Two hours low. The root vegetables sweeten as they cook. Served with crusty bread for dipping. I made the soup. Fifty gallons. I served the soup. A hundred and twelve plates. I came home tired. I came home good-tired. The Thursday tired. The right tired. I sat on the couch with Sven and a glass of wine and I did not move for two hours. The body wants this kind of tired. The body has wanted this kind of tired for thirty years. I thought about Lars this week. He has been gone since 1979. The grief is old, but it is not gone. The dead do not leave. They just become quieter. Lars at twenty was funny in a particular sideways way that nobody else in the family was funny. He could make Pappa laugh, which nobody could make Pappa do. He has been gone forty-five years. I still hear his laugh sometimes, when Erik is laughing in a particular way, or when Peter accidentally tilts his head the way Lars used to. It is enough. Paul is not here. Mamma is not here. Pappa is not here. Erik is not here. They are all here in the kitchen, in the smell, in the taste, in the wooden spoon and the bread pans and the marble slab. The dead are not where the body went. The dead are in the kitchen. Mamma used to say: "En människa är vad hon ger." A person is what she gives. She said this in Swedish so often that the phrase still sounds in my head in her voice. I think about it daily. I think about what I have given, and what I have not given, and what is still to give. The accounting is mostly favorable. The accounting is, in some ways, the only accounting that matters. It is enough.

The stew this week was for a hundred and twelve people, and I came home with nothing left to give — which is exactly the right way to come home. When I cook just for myself, or for Sven, I reach for something a little looser, a little brighter than a long braise: this Mexican Beef has the same soul as a good stew, the beef browned hard, the spices building slowly, the whole pot smelling like something worth coming home to. It does not take two hours. It takes the time I have left at the end of a Thursday, and it is enough.

Mexican Beef

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 30 min | Total Time: 45 min | Servings: 4–6

Ingredients

• 1 1/2 lbs ground beef (or beef chuck, finely chopped)
• 1 medium yellow onion, diced
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 red bell pepper, diced
• 1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes, undrained
• 1 can (15 oz) black beans, drained and rinsed
• 1 can (8 oz) tomato sauce
• 2 tsp chili powder
• 1 1/2 tsp ground cumin
• 1/2 tsp dried oregano
• 1/4 tsp smoked paprika
• Salt and black pepper to taste
• 1 tbsp olive oil
• Fresh cilantro, sour cream, and shredded cheese for serving (optional)

Instructions

1. Brown the beef. Heat olive oil in a large heavy skillet or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add the ground beef and cook, breaking it up with a spoon, until deeply browned, about 8–10 minutes. Do not rush this step — the color is the flavor. Drain excess fat if needed.
2. Build the base. Add the diced onion and bell pepper to the pan. Cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until softened and the onion is translucent, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
3. Add the spices. Sprinkle in the chili powder, cumin, oregano, and smoked paprika. Stir to coat the meat and vegetables evenly. Cook for 1 minute to bloom the spices.
4. Add the tomatoes and beans. Pour in the diced tomatoes (with their liquid) and the tomato sauce. Stir in the black beans. Season with salt and pepper.
5. Simmer. Reduce heat to low and simmer uncovered for 15–20 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the sauce thickens and the flavors come together. Taste and adjust seasoning.
6. Serve. Ladle into bowls or serve over rice. Top with sour cream, shredded cheese, and fresh cilantro if desired. Crusty bread for dipping is not wrong here.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 340 | Protein: 28g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 22g | Fiber: 6g | Sodium: 620mg