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My Favorite Breakfast Burritos -- The Morning After the Best Halloween, When the Crawfish Finally Slept

Halloween night, and Rémy the Crawfish has conquered the neighborhood. The costume turned out better than any of us expected — Danielle outdid herself with the claws, which actually open and close via a hinge mechanism made from popsicle sticks, and the antennae, which bounce when he walks, and the tail, which drags behind him like a red carpet. He walked up to every house on Claycut Drive, clacked his claws at the door, and said "Trick or treat, cher!" because even on Halloween, we're Cajun. The neighbors loved it. Mrs. Patterson two doors down gave him extra candy "for being the best crawfish she's ever seen," and Rémy said, "I'm the ONLY crawfish," which — fair point.

Luc was his video game character, which involved a lot of black clothing and a cardboard sword that I helped him make in the garage. He trick-or-treated with Tyler and a group of sixth-grade boys who moved through the neighborhood with the efficiency of a military operation: fast, focused, maximum candy yield. They were back in forty-five minutes with pillow cases full. Colette was her doctor-princess: white coat from the costume store over a princess dress from last year, with a toy stethoscope around her neck and a tiara on her head. "I'm Dr. Princess Colette," she told every house. Nobody questioned it. You don't question Colette.

While the kids trick-or-treated — Danielle took Rémy and Colette, I supervised Luc's group from a distance that he considered embarrassing — I made chili. Not Cajun chili. Regular chili. I know. I know. But it's Halloween, and chili is Halloween food the way gumbo is fall food, and even a Cajun man is allowed to make regular chili on October 31st without turning in his credentials. Ground beef, kidney beans, tomatoes, onion, garlic, chili powder, cumin. Simple. Warm. The kind of food that's waiting in a pot when the candy-hyped children come crashing through the door at 8:30 PM, vibrating with sugar and the memory of every house that had full-size candy bars.

They ate chili and then ate candy and then ate more candy and then Rémy crashed — full sugar meltdown, tears about nothing, the kind of emotional collapse that comes from three hours of walking and a pound of chocolate. I carried him to bed, still in half his crawfish costume because removing it would have triggered a second meltdown, and I laid him down, and he mumbled, "Best Halloween, Papa," and was asleep before I could answer. I stood in his doorway — this boy, this crawfish, this tiny Cajun who says "cher" to strangers and eats three bowls of jambalaya and catches fish with his whole heart — and I thought: I am making something good. We are making something good. The roux is turning. The color is right. Keep stirring.

The chili pot was mostly empty by 9 PM, and Rémy was asleep in half a crawfish costume, and I knew that morning was going to hit everyone hard — three kids, a mountain of candy, and the particular exhaustion that only comes from a night of pure joy. So before I went to bed, I set out what I’d need: tortillas, eggs, the rest of the seasoned ground beef, whatever cheese we had. These breakfast burritos have become the official post-Halloween meal in our house, the thing that brings everyone slowly back to the table the next morning, still a little sugar-dazed and happy, ready to talk about which house had the best candy and whether Rémy really was the only crawfish in the neighborhood.

My Favorite Breakfast Burritos

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 30 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

  • 4 large flour tortillas (10-inch)
  • 6 large eggs
  • 2 tablespoons milk
  • 1/2 lb ground beef
  • 1/2 medium yellow onion, diced
  • 1/2 green bell pepper, diced
  • 2 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 teaspoon chili powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
  • 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
  • Salt and black pepper, to taste
  • 1 cup shredded sharp cheddar cheese
  • 1/2 cup canned black beans, drained and rinsed
  • 2 tablespoons salsa, plus more for serving
  • 1 tablespoon olive oil or butter
  • Sour cream and hot sauce, for serving (optional)

Instructions

  1. Brown the beef. Heat a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the ground beef and cook, breaking it up with a spoon, until browned and cooked through, about 6–7 minutes. Drain excess fat if needed.
  2. Add the aromatics and spices. Add the onion and bell pepper to the skillet and cook until softened, about 3–4 minutes. Stir in the garlic, chili powder, cumin, smoked paprika, salt, and pepper. Cook for 1 more minute until fragrant. Stir in the black beans and salsa, then reduce heat to low to keep warm.
  3. Scramble the eggs. In a bowl, whisk together the eggs and milk with a pinch of salt. In a separate non-stick skillet, melt the butter over medium-low heat. Add the eggs and cook gently, folding slowly with a spatula, until just set and still slightly glossy. Remove from heat immediately.
  4. Warm the tortillas. Wrap the tortillas in a damp paper towel and microwave for 30 seconds, or warm them one at a time directly in a dry skillet over medium heat for about 20 seconds per side.
  5. Assemble. Lay a warm tortilla flat. Layer a quarter of the scrambled eggs, a quarter of the beef and bean mixture, and a generous pinch of shredded cheddar down the center, leaving a couple inches clear on each end.
  6. Roll and serve. Fold in the sides, then roll snugly from the bottom up. Place seam-side down and repeat with remaining tortillas. Serve immediately with sour cream, extra salsa, and hot sauce on the side.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 520 | Protein: 31g | Fat: 24g | Carbs: 42g | Fiber: 4g | Sodium: 680mg

Tommy Beaumont
About the cook who shared this
Tommy Beaumont
Week 32 of Tommy’s 30-year story · Baton Rouge, Louisiana
Tommy is a Cajun electrician from Thibodaux, Louisiana, who lost his home to Hurricane Katrina four months after his wedding and rebuilt his life one roux at a time. He grew up on Bayou Lafourche, fishing with his father Joey at dawn and eating his mother's gumbo by dusk. His crawfish boils draw the whole neighborhood, his boudin is made from scratch, and he stirs his roux the way Joey taught him — dark as chocolate, forty-five minutes, no shortcuts. Laissez les bons temps rouler.

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