Sweet plantain hash and resting for resistance
Oh, hey. Welcome to The Breakfast Brief, a check-in with recipes, joy-flavored stories, and tools for coping and thriving. I’ve been gone for a minute, but I’m back like that cousin who only calls when they need something.
September is National Suicide Prevention Month. At the end of this sentence, I need you to pause and place the thing you are about to think of — the thing that brings you joy and warrants at least one more day in this raggedy, ho-ass world — into a basket, or perhaps an unobtrusive cross-body pouch, of reasons to live. And then add another thing. And perhaps a Janet Jackson album-shaped thing. And so on.
Did you do it? I’ll wait. (No judgment.) At the very least, have some breakfast. Deal?
This Sweet Plantain Hash by Immaculate Bites is one of my reasons to live. Imma touched my soul with this recipe. It has many of my favorite qualities in a dish:
Cumin.
There is plantain.
Everything happens in one pan.
I can make a sweet potato version.
Yes, I will eat you for lunch, and dinner, too.
A recipe is but a starting point. I was like:
Me: “Okay, yes, but let’s fry that egg a little harder and: over grits? Too much?”
Myself: “No. Then for lunch, over rice?”
I: “Yes. It says sub beans for sausage, but both, right? Beef or chicken sausage?”
All together: Yes.
I will be trying this soon.
If you’re looking for something else new and delicious to try, I developed this soursop/guanábana/corossol ice cream recipe for The Spruce Eats. It’s good as hell and you can make it without a machine.
I used sweetened condensed milk to bring some creaminess to the situation and some lime juice to brighten things up. It’s a party.
Try it out and report back. (Here’s one satisfied customer.)
Here are a few things to moisturize your spirit:
That time Angie, BeBe, and Debbie Winans blessed the bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios.
Rest for Resistance hosts meditation groups for people of color. Get you some.
Read this beautiful story on the importance of storytelling by Zito Madu for Plough.
Sometimes I feel as if I write as a form of excavation, an act of finding. But it’s inadequate for preserving the existence of the people and places I love — no number of words, however beautifully arranged, could ever revive their fullness.
As back-to-school photo shoots rain from the sky, a reminder that it’s not what you say, but the hug that follows.
Next Wednesday, September 14 at 8pm EST on Twitter Spaces, I’m hosting a GetSomeJoy mental health check-in on navigating grief and loss. Have a story or resource to share? Set a reminder to join us here.
Step into the GetSomeJoy Universe to keep the party going: right here
Until next time.
