As I begin this blog post, we are getting ready to fall back, and I have not even thought once about writing for this space in November.
I am, instead, writing a novel over these next 30 days, a novel that will most assuredly be a steaming pile of crap but that’s quite against the point. The point is to put the words down, a minimum of 50,000 of them, to let the characters guide the story and really hope for the best.
Take care, and good luck.
Generally, people participating in National Novel Writing Month advise stockpiling snacks and warning loved ones to lower their expectations appropriate to the challenge that lies ahead.
The 50,000 words is not much more than I write for other people for actual cash money but that writing is completely different. Non-fiction writing, even when it’s about laws in Arizona and online professional development, comes easy to me and always has. This month also marks the completion of a huge non-fiction writing job for me: the entirety of the AZ Dentist website.
If there is something wrong with your mouth, chances are very, very good that I can diagnose you. As a party trick, it’s frankly rather obnoxious.
So to celebrate the light pockets that come with finishing a huge job, while nourishing the family during this crazy month of writing (for those keeping track, it’s the 50,000 words on top of the regular 35,000 I have scheduled for November), there is this easy, cheap, filling, and delicious recipe: Tamale Pie.
I never thought I would give out this recipe, but desperate times call for sharing. This is, after all, mid-term elections on top of everything else, so something that fills you up and makes you feel cared for is the best I can do. It’s delicious, warming to the bones, vegan (without the cheese and sour cream), and loved by most everyone who tries it (minus picky teenagers, but they are old enough to heat up their own mac-n-cheese).
It is ironic and curious that so many of the things I love to eat and make for other people are things that I might not have made for myself. This is especially true for when I make dinner.
I make a distinction between making dinner and cooking. Making dinner is that sometimes-crazy activity that gets slotted between after school, athletics, classes, meetings, and bedtimes. It’s why grocery stores have pre-roasted chickens and pre-made mashed potatoes hot and ready. It’s why you can get a bucket of chicken that will serve four people for less than $20. And it’s why pizza places came up with delivery.
In short, making dinner is often frantic, often unhealthy, and sometimes at my house a bag of chips and a tub of guacamole. And maybe some ice cream. These are the types of dinners that most people rely on during National Novel Writing Month.
Cooking, on the other hand, is that lovely, leisurely thing that I do when I have ample time, beautiful ingredients, and no one to please but myself. It’s when I get to experiment with new tools in the kitchen (like my mandolin, which is a lifesaver if I ever had one), when I lazily leaf through cookbooks and cooking magazines to see what strikes my fancy, or when I head up to the market specifically for that day’s meal (so very European).
Making dinner is like feeding baby birds in the nest: everyone with their mouths open, squawking for food, any food, before they start gnawing on and pecking at each other.
Cooking is a light breeze blowing through an open kitchen window, a glass of bourbon by the stove, and Florence + the Machine in the background.
Somehow, some way, Tamale Pie meets somewhere in the middle. It’s easy, but it smells delicious, is like actual cooking without being terribly complicated, and it freezes well. This is a great way to avoid the greasy bucket of chicken and still get dinner on the table in 30 minutes.
Tamale Pie
Feel free to make adjustments to the spice level and seasoning as you wish. Amounts below are mere suggestions.
Ingredients
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 medium onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon chili powder
2 teaspoons ground cumin
2 cans beans, rinsed and drained (whatever you have: pinto, kidney, black beans)
1 cup diced tomatoes with juice
1 can of corn, drained (frozen is fine, 2 cups)
1 ¾ polenta (grits work, too – see Recipe Notes)
4 to 6 cups water
¾ teaspoon salt
2 cups Monterey jack cheese, shredded (leave out for vegan version, or use vegan cheese if you are that sort of person)
Method
Preheat oven to 350⁰. Grease and 9″ x 12” glass baking dish (or one of those white Corningware casseroles, the big one) and set aside.
Heat oil in a sauté pan over medium heat. Add onions and cook until translucent, about five minutes. Add garlic, chili, and cumin and sauté five minutes more.
Add tomatoes, beans, and corn. Season with salt and pepper and let simmer uncovered while you make the crust.
Bring four cups of salted water to a boil in a large saucepan. Whisk polenta in. Cook over medium heat until boiling. Reduce heat to low and cook until thick, stirring constantly, about ten minutes. If your polenta gets thick but is not yet soft and creamy, add more water and continue to cook.
Taste bean mixture for seasoning and flavor before assembling the dish. If it needs more of anything add it now.
Remove polenta from heat. Pour half of the polenta mixture into the glass baking dish, spreading it halfway up the sides of the dish. Pour bean mixture on top, then pour polenta on top of the beans and spread to cover. You will not use all of the polenta (see below)
Top with shredded cheese and bake for 30 minutes. Let sit for at least five minutes before eating. Ten is better.
Recipe notes
- Any combination of beans is delicious. Use whatever you have on hand.
- If you don’t have tomatoes, substitute a jar of salsa.
- Sharp cheddar is also a great topping.
- Pass the sour cream when serving.
- If you have leftovers, reheat by adding a little water to whatever you are reheating in and placing the pie on top. The water will lightly steam the polenta as it heats, helping it have a creamier texture the next day.
- This recipe makes extra polenta, which should be considered a good thing. Reheat the polenta and add some roasted veggies and a fried egg for an award-winning and sanity-saving dinner for two the following night.