2024-02-06Johnny Ortiz


Growing up in Northern New Mexico one of the most nostalgic smells is a pot of beans and chile cooking on the stove.


I grew up as an extremely picky eater so this with bread was one of my most consumed foods, and most of the time it was ate at paternal grandmother Mary's, while my uncles watched football or after church. Grandma Mary lived in a mobile home with her brother and her sisters lived next door. Every night the whole family was around. Mary and her siblings were poor, though I never realized it. They never had a drivers license, walked to work, ate the same thing almost every night and worked at the same restaurant for 40+ years.


I wish I could say we ate beans they grew, in a clay pot they made, but it couldn't be any further from the tr...

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