Kikita la Latina

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Now that I'm a traveling cook, my friends are putting in requests.

For example, my certified Cuban friends argue over my picadillo, my dear friends Ashli and Sheila go bananas for arroz con pollo, and the boys from Milele love my Cuban-style black beans.

I remember the first time I was going to make the beans for them, I was at the store with Cedric and he heard me say to myself, "Now, where are the beans?"

Thinking he was being helpful, Cedric took it upon himself to pick out beans - honey baked beans or some other nonsense that definitely wasn't going to work with the lechon I was making and I explained that to him, but as I reached for a can of black beans, he practically sneered!

"Seriously? Black beans? CANNED? Eew! What ARE you thinking?"

"Just trust me this once, ok? By the time I'm through with these beans, you won't be able to tell they were canned."

He grudgingly obliged and hovered the whole time I was cooking them.

I am happy to report that the beans did not last the evening and there were whining sounds about how I didn't make enough. I learned my lesson (after sand-papering myself a bit) and now always arrive prepared: