I’ve had dry beans soaking for 23.5 hours now. Some pinto beans.
A beer and some water cover the beans just to the top and I’ve been adding more in over the course of almost 24 hours to slack the thirst of those parched beans. I’ve had to add over 4 cups.
I pour the beans into a colander and let them drip while I add bacon pieces to a big stock pot on the stove. Heat that bad boy up and hear it sizzle and pop. My salivary glands wake-up as the smell of bacon fills the kitchen. I add some minced garlic and let it brown in the fat.
A few cups at a time I add the beans into the pot. And next some water- back up to the top of the beans. Season with herbs.
I drop the heat to a low simmer, give one last stir, and put on the lid.
The beans will simmer for about 12 hours- all day, and will come off the heat tonight after dinner. An occasional stir here and there. Nothing else to do but wait.
And in the waiting, the aroma of the beans will fill the air and heighten the anticipation of a feast for later.
As we prepare for the sacred pause of Holy Week in the midst of coronavirus, we will encounter a layered waiting for resurrection. May the waiting bring new life and may the hope of the feast to come sustain us in the waiting.