What's Cookin': Legacy Black Bean Casserole

This post is for a sweet friend who wrote to me about a Facebook post I did a couple of weeks ago.  Basically I did a picture play-by-play of the courses I was making for a dinner party later that same evening (I had no idea that it would be such a popular post - the best comment I got was that it was "like live food porn" - which made me laugh out loud and blush at the same time) .

Well, the main dish was called "Suzi's Legacy Black Bean Casserole".   The story is that a few years ago, back when we were living in Pennsylvania, my friend Suzi (who you may remember from this post) brought this AMAZING dish to a birthday party we were both invited to.  Now Suzi and I have a lot of things in common which form the basis of our friendship, but the single most important element has always been our abiding love of good eats.

So. When Suzi brought her Black Bean Casserole to the party I was drawn to it like a moth to a black bean-y and slightly spicy southwestern flame.  I couldn't get enough.  I just HAD to know how to make it, or else my life would not be complete and I would die an unhappy foodie.  We can't be having that now.  The details are fuzzy but I believe there was some amount of stalking involved.  And that's how the "Legacy" part got thrown in - I remember commenting to Suzi about how her casserole was SO delicious that the recipe simply had to have been passed down from generation to generation, with every generation adding and substituting ingredients until you had a dish of black bean PERFECTION. When Suzi finally did email me the recipe (which didn't take her long at all...it just felt like a long time to me because I was ADDICTED to the stuff already.  A casserole junkie - that was me), she titled it:

Suzi's Legacy Black Bean Casserole

Ingredients:
1 medium onion, chopped
1/2  teaspoon minced garlic (about 2 cloves)
1 red bell pepper, chopped
1 green bell pepper, chopped
A little bit of red pepper flake (I use chili powder because that's what I have at home)
1 cup (approx) cheap-o salsa... the cheaper, the better!
1 can of diced tomatoes
1 teaspoon of lime juice (that's an approximation - I usually taste everything and add more if needed)
20-30 shakes of ground cumin (maybe about 1-2 tsp)
3 cans of black beans

About 2 cups of shredded cheese (I use Mexican blend or Colby-jack)

Tortillas

Optional:

Chopped Jalapeño
A dash of Tabasco sauce and/or Liquid Smoke (if you like it spicy)
Chipotle sauce
Cilantro
Sour Cream
Avocado

Directions:
Heat your oven to 350° F

In a pan, sautée the onions, garlic, bell peppers, red pepper flake/chili powder and the jalapeños (if you are putting that in).  I don't normally use any oil to sautée - I just add a tiny bit of water when things start to stick.  But you could use a bit of oil too if that floats your boat. When those become soft, add the salsa, tomatoes, lime juice and cumin (this is where you'd add the chipotle sauce if you wanted to - I haven't found a vegetarian chipotle sauce, so I've never added it, and mine tastes great without it.  This is also where I add the tabasco sauce and/or liquid smoke if we're feeling like we want a bit of heat).  Let it all simmer for a little while, until it reduces a bit and isn't so watery.  Then add your beans to the pan and cook till it's all combined and heated, like so (sorry for all the bad pics, they're from the live Facebook posts I did a couple of weeks ago):

Get out a 9x12 (or whatever size those big glass rectangle pans are) and spray it with non-stick spray.  Put down a layer of beans then top with cheese and then tortillas (I cut my tortillas to fit all the way around the pan.  Because I'm anal.  You don't have to be like me). Repeat, and finish with beans.

At this point, Suzi suggests poking holes in the casserole with a butter knife because sometimes the tortillas get all puffy and it leaks out in to the oven.  I usually do what she tells me to do because I don't want to mess with the Legacy mojo.  So far I've not have any poofyness or leakyness!

Cover with tin foil and bake for 45 min.  Pull it out, top with the rest of the cheese, and let it sit about 5 minutes to firm up.

Suzi also suggests cutting up an avocado, some cilantro and getting out the sour cream to top the casserole on the plate.  Believe me, it tastes SO FREAKING GOOD.

So really, you can make it super simple, or add some extra touches too.  For those that are avoiding dairy, you could omit the cheese altogether and add more beans or veggies.  We've done it that way and it tastes really good and filling.  If you want to make it healthier you could add spinach into the veggie mix - that also tastes very very awesome.  I also use tortillas with flax in them, which makes me feel like I'm offsetting the cheese and sour cream-induced oblivion that inevitably follows when I gorge on this dish.  Lastly, this makes a TON of food, so it's great for freezing, for leftovers, for birthday parties where people will stalk you for the recipe, and for dinner parties that involve lots of food porn.

And for Tiph, who requested the recipe - I hope you love this as much as we do. Let it never be said that I denied a gorgeous pregnant mama her cravings!

Enjoy!

Because You Asked Me About Ramadan...

Childhoods are funny things.  Even when we don't realize it's happening - and even if we can't look back and say that it was all roses - there are certain memories, etched on a soul with sunlight and laughter, that are ours alone to smile about all those years later.  For me, Ramadan is one of those times.

Sure, fasting is and was hard.  But for me, it's something else too.

A memory:
February, 1994.  Early, before sunrise.  I am 16. Waking up to silence and darkness, whispering in hushed tones to my father, my brother.  "As-Salaam Alaikum".  Peace and good morning.  "When can I go back to bed, Dad?"  "Not yet, love.  You need to eat first.  Don't forget to pick up the roti on your way down."
Walking down the stairs, not trying to be quiet anymore, because anyone who is still sleeping shouldn't be.  But of course I know that my grandparents won't wake this morning.  After a lifetime of sacrifice, now it's their time to rest.  Our time to carry the torch.  Literally.  
I can hear the TV on in the basement - softly - replaying the Opening Ceremonies of the Lillehammer Olympics.  In the future they will say that it was the most watched Olympics in history.  And I will always think of these mornings, where Muslims all over the world were tuning in to watch Olympic coverage over tea and fruits and eggs and the melody of the Quran over the radio. 
Passing the darkened kitchen, catching my breath on the cold tile as I stop to pick up a stack of flatbread that my mom made for us the night before.  They're not there....Dad must have known that I was in no mood to get them.
Entering the bright lights in the basement, into the second family room.  Three bedraggled boys are crowded around the television set.  "As-Salaam Alaikum!  We won another medal!  Jean-Luc Brassard is the SHIZZ. I gotta go lay out the prayer rugs.  Wanna help?"  Me, rolling my eyes.  How can three little people have so much energy so early in the morning?  Hair tousling, helping to get our jobs done so that my aunt doesn't have to give us The Look later on.  
My aunt.  Standing over the stove.  She gives me a sidelong glance as I enter the kitchen.  No time for kisses. But I know she loves me anyway.  Smells: cooking onions, eggs.  Omelettes and roti for our breakfast.  Much better than the cereal and leftovers we used to have when my dad was in charge of the kitchen.  This will keep me full.  For a while. 
We all slowly trickle in, lured from our cozy beds and hidey-holes by the enticing aromas emanating from the kitchen.  Sitting around the tiny table, two families together.  Passing the bread, the eggs.  Making sure everyone has enough to satiate their hunger for the day ahead.  Don't forget to drink.  Tender words.  Gentle kisses to the children who are choosing to take part with us, even if they can't fast all day.  Somehow I think they're waking up more for the Olympics than for the food.  That's okay.  Their enthusiasm brings cheer to my sleepy mood.  There is love here.  There is warmth.
My uncle and my father.  Brothers. Chatting about politics.  About cricket.  About some memory of the past - of their childhood.  My aunt blushes and laughs.  The three of them were friends even before they came to Canada, before children and mortgages and nine to five jobs.  They probably sat around a table like this during Ramadan with their families so many years ago. My uncle is finished his eggs now, and he leans back. Reaches over my aunt and grabs his cigarettes.  He sighs.  This will be his first and last of the day.  He is resigned to his fate...but we're all in the same boat today.  We're all giving something up.  Together.  When it gets too much to bear later on, someone will be there to empathize.  A hug or kind smile.  I know how you feel.  
This is always my favorite part.  My uncle gets all reflective with that first and last cigarette.  His deep baritone voice is a soothing melody.  He is a natural storyteller.  "Tell us about the djinns again.  Are they good guys or bad guys?  Do they fast?"  He chuckles.  Launches into a story that is part adventure, part fantasy, part horror, part religious instruction.  The pictures are alive in my mind and go flitting across the landscape of my imagination.  This will be a good day.

I will always have this.  This moment.  This memory will leave an indelible mark on me in the years to come.  When I leave home and go off to university.  When I get married and move to another country and start my own family.  The start of every Ramadan will feel like this.  The memory of faces around a table in the early morning pre-dawn, the stories told, the love shared. Forever and a day, I will strive to recreate this for my family.  In a world gone crazy, amidst the suspicion and hate, my Ramadan will mean more.  My fast will reach out and touch people.  My religion will be love.  My actions will be peace.

There is only one path to Heaven. On Earth, we call it Love.

This is my Ramadan.  This is me.

 My beautiful girl at the start of another Ramadan.  Her smile gives me hope.  Her love for the world hints at the promise of a thousand bright tomorrows.  Peace and blessings from our family to yours.

Just Add Water

It's hot here.  Like really, really hot.  And because we don't have central air conditioning (we have radiators..which is all fine and dandy in the winter, but they do squat for me in ninety degree heat), just waking up and blinking the sweat out of my eyes is a special kind of torture.  Granted, we do have window units in ours' and the girls' bedrooms, but I find that just makes the problem worse, because then you have what feels like an ice-box tundra and then you go shivering from that to the flipping Sahara desert.  It makes you think twice about those midnight bathroom trips, that's for sure.

Anyway, due to the heat it seems like even everyday tasks get harder.  Take baths, for example. In this weather, being in a steamy bathroom soaping down two little squirmy people, only to get them out and dry and then go into...the steamy rest of the house is a thought I do not relish AT ALL.  I'd rather they just stay dirty.  Or I'd rather someone else deal with the problem (which is generally my M.O. for most distateful parenting tasks. Because I'm lazy, okay?).

Enter Yousuf - Solver Of Problems, Savior Of My Sanity, Man Who Is Impervious to Bad Moods and Heat-Sensitive Tantrums.

I was grumbling about how he made me move into a house with no central air and how because of that our kids were now the filthiest little grubs on the street.  Or the city.  Or probably the WHOLE WORLD.  And he, as usual, just laughed at me as he opened the back door and ushered the girls outside after him.  To which I replied with even more grumbling because I knew they were just going to get even MORE dirty and people would probably mistake them for walking piles of grass and dried food bits and then give me bad looks and say that I didn't take care of them but THEY DON'T LIVE IN MY HOUSE with no air conditioning and if they did they'd realize that a bath is the absolute LAST thing I want to be dealing with.

So I went outside to tell Yousuf all this, and lo and behold this is what I saw:

Oh. My. LORDY.  That's how we do it 'round here, y'all.  In the CITY.

But you know what?  The girls loved every second of it.  So who was I to complain? 

And bless my hubby's heart, he solved my bathing problem and everyone got nice and cool and un-cranky at the same time:

"Don't spray me, Inara!  Don't spray me!  Okay, maybe just a little...ahhhh....that feels GREAT.  Who needs air conditioning when we have a hose, y'all!"

Seeing them have that much fun, it was pretty hard to stay cranky.  I mean, who could resist this face?

"ooooh, Mama!  This feels so GOOD!  Look at my big tummy and cute little baby thighs!  Don't you just wanna get wet with me?  Couldn't you just eat me right UP?  C'mon c'mon c'mon...you know you wanna!"

And that's how Mama gets out of her heat-induced doldrums and lightens up a bit.  All it took was a little water, an ingenious husband and some stinkin' cute babies.  

It's a good thing that our neighbors don't think we're nuts AT ALL.

Ameer.

We had a such a busy week. From political ranting to last-minute traveling and brand-new baby oogling, I barely had time to catch my breath!  I promised you pictures of my new baby nephew, and here they are.  We got back from our two-day visit on Wednesday night and I am still smiling like a goofball.  Because Ameer is all that and can of beans, and his Mama and Daddy are doing such a fabulous job already!  I'd like to think it's because they took detailed notes when my kids were itty bitty babies (I'm such a modest older sister), but somehow I think they just knew what they were doing right from the start.  Nadia is gentle, loving and so patient - and Mansoor is just the most tenderhearted Daddy ever.  It's such a gift to watch a brand new love blossoming right before your very eyes, and I cherished every moment of our very brief time with this brand new family.  I can't wait to go back.

I'll stop now and get on with the show - presenting Ameer:

This is what he looked like, fast asleep, the very first moment I laid eyes on him...

I just love tiny baby hands - curled up just so:

And we can't forget those wee feet.  I'm also obsessed with those (okay, fine.  I'm just obsessed with the whole package deal):

It was hard to get a good shot of my brother with his little man, because he spent most of the time doing this:

(This shot was taken right before he went to work - hence the business attire.  And he wasn't worried about getting puked on, either.  Such a great Dad!)

And here is new mama Nadia.  Have you ever seen anything more lovely than this pair?

I didn't even have to do anything major to this picture.  They just look this...glowy. 

Baby Boy already has a big personality.  Check out the pursed lips:

Already posing for the cameras...or trying to make a poopie. 

And that, my friends, concludes your daily dose of unbearable cuteness - courtesy of the Brand New Mustafa Family.  Have a great weekend...I'll see you on the flip side.

Mansoor, Nadia and Baby Ameer.  They may be living in America, but we're not going to let them forget their Canadian roots (blankie courtesy of Grandma Mustafa, aka Ammi).

Who Loves Ya, Baby?

I realize that I used the word "baby" twice this past week.  But I had no idea that I'd be talking about a Real Live baby this time.  And I am!!!  My brother and sister in-law had their baby boy and we are getting up at the bumcrack of dawn today to hit the road so that we can go and see him.  I cannot even begin to describe how excited I am to be on my way....just thinking about little Ameer is making me smile like an idiot.  I was so happy all day long that instead of packing us up, I did what any rational new auntie would do:

I baked boatloads of goodies.  I have no idea why.  It's not like Ameer can eat any of that stuff...but I just wanted to do...something.

I guess I figured that normally when you have a new baby people bring by dinners, but nobody ever thinks about those snackish moments that you have at three in the morning after a feeding.  And there is nothing better to fill that craving than Coconut Kiwi Muffins, Cupcakes, Cinnamon Bread and Brownies.  Am I right?

Anyway, I'm going to be gone for a couple of days - but when I return I'm hoping to have lots of squishy baby pictures to share with you.  I'm so happy to be meeting my baby nephew!!