Four weeks dry. One month from Day One. I marked it Thursday at the AA meeting — I don't usually say things at the meeting but Gary had told me to say the thirty-day when it came, that the Thursday meeting gives out chips for milestones and that receiving the chip in front of people who understand what it means is different from just knowing the number yourself. So I said my name and I said one month and a man I've never spoken to, a trucker from Laurel who's been coming to Thursday meetings for nine years, stood up and shook my hand. Nobody clapped. Nobody made a speech. He shook my hand and said, "Keep going." That was enough. That was exactly the right amount.
February is the hard month in Montana — not the coldest necessarily, but the one that's been going on the longest, the one where you've forgotten what it feels like to not wear a coat. The cattle are doing fine, burning through the hay supply at the expected rate. I've been doing the twice-daily checks by ATV because the horses don't like being ridden in negative temperatures without at least a brief warmup, and warming up a horse in the arena takes time I don't always have at six AM.
I've been thinking about spring. What I'll plant in the garden — mostly just continuing Mom's setup, which is established and works. What the calf crop might look like in March. What the early farrier schedule will be when people start riding again after winter. I've started thinking in seasons, which is maybe the thing that living on a ranch does to a person — you're always one season ahead in your planning because that's how you survive the current one.
Mom made her beef chili Sunday. I ate three bowls and thought about the elk chili I'll make in October and how both of them are right.
Mom’s chili on Sunday reminded me that the right food at the right moment doesn’t need to be complicated — it just needs to be real. On a February ranch morning, when the alarm goes off before six and the thermometer outside reads something I’d rather not look at, I need something fast and warm that holds me through the cattle check. These breakfast tostadas have become a weekday constant lately: five minutes of assembly, a solid foundation of beans and egg, and enough heat from the salsa to make the cold feel like a choice rather than a sentence.
Simple Breakfast Tostadas
Prep Time: 5 min | Cook Time: 10 min | Total Time: 15 min | Servings: 2 (2 tostadas each)
Ingredients
- 4 tostada shells (store-bought, or 4 corn tortillas baked at 400°F for 8–10 minutes until crisp)
- 4 large eggs
- 1 can (15 oz) black beans or refried beans, drained and warmed
- 1/2 cup shredded cheddar or Mexican blend cheese
- 1/2 cup salsa or pico de gallo
- 1 avocado, thinly sliced
- 1 tablespoon butter or olive oil
- Salt and black pepper to taste
- Optional: sour cream, hot sauce, fresh cilantro, sliced jalapeño
Instructions
- Warm the beans. Heat black beans or refried beans in a small saucepan over medium-low heat, stirring occasionally, until warmed through, about 3–4 minutes. Season lightly with salt. If using refried beans, add a splash of water to loosen if needed.
- Cook the eggs. Melt butter in a nonstick skillet over medium heat. Crack in the eggs and cook to your preference — sunny-side up for about 3 minutes, or scrambled by whisking first and stirring gently in the pan for 2–3 minutes. Season with salt and pepper.
- Build the tostadas. Lay tostada shells on plates. Spread a generous spoonful of warm beans across each shell. Sprinkle shredded cheese over the beans while they’re still hot so it melts slightly.
- Add the egg and toppings. Place one cooked egg on top of each tostada. Spoon salsa or pico over the egg. Arrange avocado slices alongside. Add any optional toppings — a drizzle of hot sauce, a few cilantro leaves, or a dollop of sour cream.
- Serve immediately. Tostadas are best eaten right away while the shell is still crisp. Serve with extra salsa on the side.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 390 | Protein: 19g | Fat: 21g | Carbs: 34g | Fiber: 9g | Sodium: 530mg