Refried Bean Tacos

I started the elk chili Tuesday. The first batch — I always make two batches, one for now and one to freeze. I use the dried anchos and pasillas from the chile shop in Billings, reconstituted in hot water, blended smooth. The elk, cubed — I cut the shoulder into two-inch pieces because the shoulder needs the long braise to get tender, and patience is the only real secret in this recipe. Non-alcoholic beer now, which is an adjustment I made in August and which still feels slightly wrong on principle but which I've made work. Canned tomatoes from Mom's garden. Broth. The whole thing goes on low for six hours minimum.

The house smelled like chili for two days. Dad came through the kitchen four times the first day and each time pretended he wasn't checking on the progress. Mom ate two bowls the night it was done and said it was better than last year's. I said last year's was from a different cow. She said she'd noticed.

I've been having harder nights this week. Not drinking — I haven't drunk — but the not-drinking is work right now in a way it hasn't been for the last couple weeks. Something about November, maybe. The dark comes early and lasts long and the work is less physically demanding after roundup, which means more hours of being inside with my thoughts.

I called Gary twice this week instead of once. He picked up both times. He said, "When it gets hard, that's when you find out if you mean it." I said I meant it. He said, "Then keep calling." I kept calling.

Eighty days dry. November is the test. I'm taking it one day at a time, which is a cliché that happens to be exactly right.

The chili takes six hours and requires a particular kind of patience I’m still learning to sustain — but not every night has six hours in it, and some nights what you need is something you can pull together fast with whatever is left in the pantry after you’ve already given everything else to the week. These refried bean tacos are that recipe for me. They’re not the centerpiece, they’re the backup — the thing I make on day eighty when the freezer batch is gone and I still want something warm and filling that required me to do a little work with my hands. That part matters right now. Doing a little work with my hands.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 4 (2 tacos each)

Ingredients

2 cans (15 oz each) pinto beans, drained and rinsed (or 3 cups cooked from dry)
2 tablespoons olive oil or lard, divided
1/2 medium yellow onion, finely diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/4 teaspoon dried oregano
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
1/4 cup vegetable broth or water, plus more as needed
8 small corn tortillas (6-inch)
1 cup shredded sharp cheddar or Monterey Jack cheese
1 cup fresh salsa or pico de gallo
1 avocado, sliced
1/2 cup sour cream
1/4 cup pickled jalapeño slices
1/4 cup fresh cilantro leaves
2 limes, cut into wedges

Instructions

Soften the aromatics. Heat 1 tablespoon of olive oil in a heavy skillet or cast iron pan over medium heat. Add the diced onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and translucent, about 6–8 minutes. Add the garlic and cook another 1 minute until fragrant.
Season and toast. Add the cumin, smoked paprika, oregano, and salt directly to the onion and garlic. Stir and let the spices cook in the oil for 30 seconds to bloom them.
Add the beans. Pour in the drained pinto beans and vegetable broth. Stir to combine everything. Let the beans heat through over medium heat, about 3–4 minutes, mashing roughly with a fork or potato masher as they cook. You want them chunky but mostly broken down — not paste, not whole. Add more broth a tablespoon at a time if the mixture looks too thick or starts sticking.
Taste and adjust. Season with additional salt as needed. Keep the beans warm on the lowest heat setting while you prepare everything else.
Warm the tortillas. Heat the remaining tablespoon of olive oil in a separate skillet over medium-high heat. Warm each corn tortilla for 30–45 seconds per side until pliable and lightly charred at the edges. Stack and keep wrapped in a clean kitchen towel.
Build the tacos. Spread a generous spoonful of refried beans down the center of each tortilla. Top with shredded cheese (the heat from the beans will soften it), a spoonful of salsa, two or three avocado slices, a dollop of sour cream, and a few jalapeño slices. Finish with fresh cilantro.
Serve immediately. Plate two tacos per person with lime wedges alongside. Squeeze lime over everything before eating.

Nutrition (per serving)

Refried Bean Tacos — The Ritual of Feeding People When You’re Running on Empty