Fat back, Bacon, Ham Hocks Smoke Sausage and Red Beans

Fat back, Bacon, Ham Hocks  Smoke Sausage and  Red Beans

by Kateb Nuri-Alim Shunnar

Welcome to the pot, y’all.

But we not cooking today. No, not this time. Today, we gonna talk. Let’s talk about them soul food creamy red beans the ones that bring back Sunday memories, the kind that perfume the house with rich, smoky warmth and make you close your eyes with the first bite. You know the kind. Pot simmering slow, thick with fatback, bacon, ham hocks, and smoked sausage. That pot full of flavor, full of tradition… but also full of things you might not see with your eyes but feel in your body over time.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying throw out Big Mama’s recipe. Lord knows that red beans and rice done raised a whole generation. But just like Auntie’s lace-front, some things look good on the outside but got a mess hiding underneath. You feel me?

See, growing up, I was raised on pots like that. My grandmother Celestine could work wonders with a pot of beans. The whole block would pause when that aroma floated out the windows, like the holy ghost of Sunday soul food. She'd stir the pot with patience, sprinkle in spices like sacred dust, and drop those fatty meats in like they were offering something divine. And in a way, they were.

But here’s the thing. All that flavor, all that grease it told one truth and hid another. What made the beans taste so good was the very thing slowly hurting us. Hypertension, diabetes, clogged arteries. The hidden tax we paid for the joy of the moment. The pot never warned us it just smiled and filled our bellies.

You ever met somebody just like that pot of beans? Oh, they look good. Smell good. Talk smooth. Got that sweet seasoning in their words, know how to stir your emotions just right. But if you keep them in your life long enough whew, you realize they high in spiritual cholesterol. They clog your joy, raise your pressure, and leave you wondering why your soul feel heavy.

Let me tell you a little parable, New Orleans style:

There was this woman named Miss Loretta. Now Miss Loretta could cook, honey. Her red beans were so good, they made grown men cry and repent. Folks lined up on Mondays just to get a spoonful. But Miss Loretta had a habit. Every pot she made had to be packed with every meat you could imagine ribs, neck bones, sausage, even a leftover pork chop from Saturday night. One day, a young woman asked her, "Miss Loretta, why so much meat?" And Loretta said, "Baby, flavor is favor."

Well, a few years later, Miss Loretta couldn’t stand too long over the stove anymore. Her body got tired, weighed down by the same things she fed others. The young woman now grown started cooking her own beans. She made them with herbs, love, and a touch of smoked paprika. Folks said, “These taste like Loretta’s!” But they were lighter, cleaner. The flavor was still there, but the burden wasn’t.

Moral of the story? Flavor ain’t favor if it’s killing you slowly. And tradition ain't truth if it's based on what's familiar but harmful.

It’s the same with life. Sometimes we let the wrong ingredients simmer in our spirits because they feel good, smell good, look good.

We let toxic people, harmful habits, and ego-driven choices flavor our souls. We say it’s tradition, we say it’s culture, we say it’s love. But not all traditions are meant to be carried forward, and not all flavors are meant to be swallowed.

Some of y’all still seasoning your life with bacon bits of bitterness and ham hocks of hurt, wondering why your joy keep coming out greasy. Learn to cook your life with balance. You can still flavor your days with love, kindness, spirituality, and deep reflection without clogging your spiritual arteries.

Let your beans simmer in gratitude. Let your rice rise with grace. Let your pot be filled with purpose, not just pleasure.

And let’s not forget: some of y’all dating folks that are smoked sausage full of hot air and always trying to pop when things heat up. You better learn to cook without all that extra.

Because the soul is sacred, and what you feed it will show.

Final Word:

Wisdom don’t always shout it often simmers.

Just like a good pot of beans, truth takes time.

Let it sit in your spirit. Let it thicken in your soul.

Everything that tastes good ain’t good for you.

And not everything that’s hard to swallow ain’t healing.

Don’t confuse flavor with favor.

The soul needs food that endures, not just what excites the tongue.

Choose what feeds you. Choose what frees you.

And remember, the wisest cooks always season with love… and restraint.

Kateb Nuri-Alim Shunnar