Mixed Veggies and Rice

First week back. The jet lag is different when you fly from the Caribbean to New England in February — it is not the clock that is off, it is the body. The body is still at eighty-two degrees. The body does not understand why the driveway has ice on it. The body wants sun and gets fluorescent lights. I solved it the way I solve everything: I cooked.

Tuesday I made arroz con gandules with the sofrito I brought back. Did it taste different? Mi amor, let me tell you. The culantro I chopped, the ajíes dulces I diced — I bought them at a bodega on Park Street in Hartford but the sazón was from the island and the achiote was from the island and the difference is real and the difference is not imagined. Eduardo said, "This tastes like Bayamón." He is not a man given to food poetry. When he says something tastes like Bayamón he means it is a postcard in a pot.

Wednesday Mami came to dinner. I told her about the trip. I told her about Marisol, about Pablo, about Vieques, about Esperanza. She asked about Doña Esperanza, whose name she had forgotten last week, and this week she remembered, and I do not understand how memory works in her head but I have stopped trying. She said, "Esperanza always paid on time." Then she said, "I made her wedding dress." And for twenty minutes she was back in 1963, stitching satin at her sewing machine, and she told me about the bodice and the lace and the fitting that Esperanza's mother had complained about. I sat and listened and did not move because moving might have broken the spell.

Thursday at the hospital I sat down with Gladys, my sous-chef basically, the woman who has been my second-in-command in the cafeteria for twelve years. She is fifty-two, Dominican, excellent, and soon will be me — I have not said the word "retirement" out loud to her yet but I have thought it, and I have thought about the transition, and I know in my body that I have maybe two years left at Hartford Hospital. Maybe less. The cafeteria is harder on my feet than it used to be. The spreadsheets are harder on my eyes. The industrial dishwasher is too loud. But the staff is good, and Gladys is good, and I want to leave it right.

Friday Sofía came over with news. She has been accepted into the nursing program at the community college. Starts in June. Formal acceptance letter in her hand. I read it three times. I cried — Sofía said, "Ma, don't start" — I said, "I will cry when I want to cry, mija" — I cried more. Eduardo came into the kitchen with the acceptance letter and said, "We need a frame." That man knows exactly how to handle two emotional Delgado women in one kitchen. The frame is on order. The letter is going up next to Mami's dress-maker's certificate from 1961. The wall of Delgado women who did things. Wepa.

Eduardo called that Tuesday pot a postcard, and he was right — but postcards don’t last the whole week. By Friday, with Sofía’s acceptance letter still warm in my hands and Mami’s voice still in my ears from Wednesday, I wanted one more meal that kept everyone at the table just a little longer, something colorful and generous the way a good week deserves to end. This mixed veggies and rice is the everyday version of that feeling — the sofrito base, the bright vegetables, the steam that fills the kitchen and makes the fluorescent lights a little easier to forgive.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 30 min | Total Time: 40 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

2 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 cup yellow onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 cup green bell pepper, diced
1/2 cup red bell pepper, diced
1 cup long-grain white rice, rinsed
1 3/4 cups low-sodium vegetable broth
1/2 cup frozen corn kernels
1/2 cup frozen peas
1/2 cup diced carrots
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/4 teaspoon dried oregano
Salt and black pepper to taste
2 tablespoons fresh cilantro, chopped (for serving)

Instructions

Sauté the aromatics. Heat olive oil in a large, deep skillet or medium saucepan over medium heat. Add onion and bell peppers and cook, stirring occasionally, for 4–5 minutes until softened. Add garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
Toast the rice. Add the rinsed rice to the pan and stir to coat in the oil and vegetables. Toast for 2 minutes, stirring frequently, until the grains just begin to turn opaque.
Season and add liquid. Stir in cumin, smoked paprika, oregano, salt, and pepper. Pour in the vegetable broth and bring to a boil over medium-high heat.
Add the vegetables. Stir in the corn, peas, and carrots. Reduce heat to low, cover tightly, and cook for 18–20 minutes, until the rice is tender and the liquid is absorbed.
Rest and fluff. Remove from heat and let sit, covered, for 5 minutes. Fluff gently with a fork, taste for seasoning, and adjust as needed.
Serve. Spoon into bowls or onto a platter and scatter fresh cilantro over the top. Serve warm alongside your main dish or on its own.

Nutrition (per serving)

Mixed Veggies and Rice — The Pot That Brought Me Back to Bayamón