I am 29. About to be 30 in December and until today I had never made a pot of Frijoles! Can you believe this? I know right?! I’m a Latina in the Southern U-nited States of America and I’ve never made frijoles (beans). So as I was relaxing in Hawaii… meeting other Latinos over yonder on the other side of the world, this came to my head! (Me speaking to me>>) “Jes! Why have you not made a pot of Frijoles? What is your Problem? OMAGOSH… What will mom think?!”
So I started asking my girl friends, how they have done their beans. I asked their mothers of their recipe… I even asked my awesome cleaning lady! Everyone but my Mommy. Why? I was embarrassed! Me, embarrassed of asking MY mommy for a cooking recipe? I know right?… SO…
I went on with my relaxing retreat weekend, enjoying meeting people and still thinking: Frijoles and 30, Frijoles and 30, Frijoles and 30!… So on one of the nights over yonder nowhere near Guatemala… I woke up and started researching how to make Frijoles. And found sooooo many recipes. Mind you, my mother is a Chef cooking lady, all star weekend cook, mind you. You get where I’m going with this…
So tonight, after a semi-stressful day at work I did it. Went to Ralphs bought a bag of black beans. I did everything I remember my mom use to do before putting the beans in the water… stuff. I use to help her cook. Washing the beans, taking the rocks out, looking for funky looking ones I could use for art projects… and then I placed them in the pot. Suddenly, I realized! THIS IS NOT the FIRST TIME I have made FRIJOLES. I use to make them with my mom when I was young. I felt so excited! I started dancing while cutting the cebolla (onion). I sent my mom a picture of the beans cooking and she called me back right away. She was amazed I was making frijoles from scratch! And All I could ask her was “mommy am I doing them right?” She told me what to do thereafter and Long and BEHOLD! I made my first pot of Frijoles on my own! Well… with some help. LOL They don’t taste bad either. Super yum!
So the lesson of this… It’s just a pot of frijoles. However, It’s more than just a pot, its culture, history and all that comes with it, all that you make of it! For me, making this meant truly growing up, believe it or not. It meant that no matter what, I could always find someone else that would help me. Close friends, their parents and further more, my parents (thank you mommy).
I’m Turing 20… I mean thirty and I’m so excited of what is to come… More Frijoles ya! 😉
Smile (if you want to)