Back when I was in college, for a few years I lived with a couple Mexican-American brothers. Let’s call them…Mark and Matt. Because that’s what were their names were.

Mark and Matt had a very large, extended family in Tucson, and sourced much of their food and methods from their nanas and nonas or whatever they called them. It wasn’t uncommon for them to show up with a half-dozen, huge ziplock bags of roasted and peeled chilies that we would freeze and eat over the course of a few weeks.

On top of the fridge there was usually a stack of fresh tortillas from the local, handmade tortilla purveyor — large as pizzas, made with delicious lard. You could eat these plain.

And there was constantly a crock pot full of seasoned pintos on a low simmer in the kitchen - something I could always count on after the bars closed. Being in college, this was a great way to stretch your food dollar - raw pintos, bought in bulk. I remember Matt, buzzed from cheap domestic beer and a few pulls from the tube, sitting in front of the coffee table, sifting through individual beans for rocks and assorted detritus while listening to the Jerky Boys. Yeoman’s work.

Now that I’m gainfully employed and able to set my sights on more highbrow culinary goals, I still go back to the food of peasants. There’s simply nothing more satisfying than eating how most of the world eats, using cheap, plentiful ingredients, carefully prepared with time and precision. And a pot of slow cooked pinto beans is still a (personal) crowd favorite.

Pinto Beans

• 1 pound of pinto beans

Cover the beans in water, after you’ve picked through them to make sure there isn’t a rock or a hypodermic needle or anything you don’t want to swallow. Soak overnight. I recently bought Rick Bayless’ Mexican Everyday and he says most Mexican cooks do not soak their beans, but rather use lots of water and up the cooking times to 3 to 4 hours. You can do that as well. I’m not a fascist.

After soaking overnight, drain the beans. Put them in a pot big enough to hold them. If you couldn’t figure that part out, stop right here.

Cover the beans with water. The water should be an inch or so over the tops of the beans.

Add the following:

• 1 white onion, quartered
• 1 jalapeno, sliced (not lengthwise. or lengthwise)
• 1 or 2 dried chili (gaujillo, pasilla, anaheim, new mexico, etc.) — depithed and torn into a pieces (some seeds are OK!)
• 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
• 1/2 teaspoon ground coriander
• 1 tablespoon coarse ground pepper (I like a lot. Your situation may call for less pepper — I don’t know you.)
• Optional - Few “sprigs” of epazote¹

Mix well, and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to low, and simmer for an hour and a half or two, stirring occasionally (you could use a crockpot if you are so inclined). Once the beans are tender and are starting to lose their individual shape, salt the beans to taste.

Then take out your potato masher, and do a rough mash. The idea here is to sort of mash some of the beans, and the others not so much. The final consistency should just begin to start to resemble a porridge of sorts.

You’re done! Enjoy the beans as a side dish with ribs or meat, in tacos, or, like here, on a delicious, completely vegan tostado, topped with Bufalo Jalapeno sauce, salsa verda, avocado, and shredded lettuce.

This is like only one of the few times I ever eat vegan!

¹Epazote is a Mexican herb that adds a subtle background noise. Mexican cooks often add it to slow-cooked beans, I’m told, to temper the legendary flatulent side effects of eating beans. But if you’re like me and enjoy ripping one, then this benefit is somewhat marginal.