This was going to be a different newsletter. But last week, it became clear that Potcake, our beloved beagle mix, was not improving, that after four months of struggle, his health was only going one way — down. After our too-brief time together, it was already time to say good-bye.
Potcake, or Bongo, as he was called when we got him, was a rescue from a friend’s rescue agency. He’d been on the street for a while. It was hard to tell his age — 7? 11? But it wasn’t hard to see he was in sorry shape, was overweight but undernourished, had bad teeth and still had his balls. After a vet removed his troublesome teeth and testicles, we brought him home.
We did not bond immediately. He’d been handed off too many times to too many people to trust us easily. I had heard, or read, that if you change a dog’s name, you change his luck. Well, he was due for a change. I named him Potcake, an affectionate island term for mutt, and the name of the cooked-on crust of beans and rice that sticks at the bottom of the pot. It’s all the best bits stuck together. At first, friends called him Pancake, Potsticker, Potlicker, and Pothead. But with time, Potcake came into his own dogness, and he earned his name.
He made the switch from living on the street to snuggling in his dog bed effortlessly. He never bit, and I doubt he would even with a full set of teeth, but he barked like hell. He was little but incredibly loud. Potcake followed me everywhere — often I think because I was the bearer of food, and man, did he love to eat. Other reasons for joy — daily walks, belly rubs, head scratches, peanut butter, and the plush toys he delighted in savaging.
We were going on three wonderful years together. Then came these past few agonizing months. His age seemed to fast forward. His vocalizations — not just barking but warbles of glee at mealtimes, and gentle snores at rest — fell silent. His mobility dwindled to nothing. For all of you who supported him and us during this time, thank you. And thank you for putting up with me this past week when I was nothing but a hot mess. I swear I will never understand why love can’t fix everything.
I’m still a semi-mess, but I’m focusing on being grateful for the friends who’ve helped get me through and on remembering Potcake in his prime.
In his honor, I’m sharing a recipe for tacu tacu, a Peruvian cake of beans and rice. In other words, it’s potcake. It’s not Michelin star material, it’s not meant to be. It’s more like a mashup of leftovers, but it’s soulful, satisfying, easy on the wallet, and it nourishes and comforts the heartsick. I hope you like it, but if you don’t, your dog will.
For more rice and beans recipes, download this free booklet from Rancho Gordo. Note — not all recipes in this collection are vegan, but many are, including my own recipe for Caribbean Red Beans and Rice.
Tacu Tacu
Traditional tacu tacu often has a little bacon added for flavor. This is a vegan and animal-friendly version. Smoked paprika makes it sultry and savory. Tacu tacu is meant to doll up leftovers, so use any cooked rice you have. Canary beans, aka Mayocobas are the go-to beans in Peru, but other beans will do. If you’ve got leftover beans in the fridge, like, say, my recipe for feijoada or Cuban black beans, use them. They’ll be delicious. Finally, the mild chile heat in your usual tacu tacu comes from Peru’s aji amarillo, but a splash of your favorite hot sauce will do the job nicely.
4 teaspoons olive oil, divided use
1 medium onion, chopped
1 garlic clove, chopped
1 cup brown rice, cooked and cooled
2 cups beans, cooked and cooled
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
1 teaspoon aji amarillo paste or your favorite hot sauce
1 sprig oregano leaves or 1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
sea salt and freshly ground pepper
In a medium skillet, preferably cast iron. heat 2 teaspoons of the olive oil over medium-high heat. When the oil starts to shimmer, add the chopped onion. Sauté, stirring occasionally, until onion softens and starts to turn golden and fragrant, about 4 to 5 minutes. Add the garlic and stir for another minute or so, until garlic softens. Set aside to briefly to cool.
Pour all the cooked rice and half the cooked beans (1 cup) into a food processor. Add the onion mixture, the smoked paprika, hot sauce, oregano, sea salt, and freshly ground pepper Pulse a few times — mixture should be thick, coarse, and pebbly in texture, rather than a smooth puree.
In a large bowl, stir together the rice and beans mixture with the remaining cup of beans. This makes for a tacu tacu with more oomph and character. Taste again for salt and pepper.
Preheat oven to 400 degrees.
Pour the remaining 2 teaspoons of olive oil into the skillet. Heat over medium high-heat, then spoon the rice and beans into the skillet, smoothing the top evenly, Cook over medium-high heat until it starts to set and bubbles slightly at the edges, about 10 minutes.
Using potholders, move the skillet into the oven and continue baking for another 20 minutes, or until taco tacu is set and slightly crusty. Remember, crust is the point of potcake.
Flip the tacu tacu onto a plate if you’re feeling confident, or nudge it out gently with a spatula. It should come out clean. If it sticks, no worries, just pat any stray bits back into place. Or give it to your dog.
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A very heart-warming and heart-wrenching story. Thank you for sharing it.
i'm so sorry for your loss. you put it so well in terms of understanding why love can't "fix" things. especially older pups. their time with us is always to short. Thank you for giving Potcake last years filled with love and comfort.