old standby

"when you were a baby i fed you beans nearly every night," i tell henry as he scoops up a third spoonful in anticipation of apple dessert. and it's true. he was a bean lover. jude hurls and smears and dumps his bowl on the table. dinner wouldn't be the same if he didn't.

black beans
yellow rice
yellow corn
water
apple dessert, compliments of grandmama, which will be all the more delicious with coffee in tomorrow's a.m.