by Tonya Kappes
1 cup cilantro
1 can black beans
1 can crushed tomatoes
2 cups water
Directions
1. Cut the pork loin into bite-sized pieces. Dice the onion. Chop the cilantro. Rinse the black beans.
2. In a Dutch oven or large pot, heat the olive oil over medium heat until shiny. Add the pork loin and Italian sausage. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Cook until browned.
3. Add onion, chili powder, cumin, and oregano to the pot. Cook for 5 minutes, stirring
occasionally.
4. Add black beans, water, tomatoes, and half of the cilantro. Season with salt and stir to
combine. Cover and cook for 10 minutes.
5. Stir and move directly from heat to a lower heat and cook for 4-6 hours.
RV HACK #3
GET LOTS OF VINEGAR
Vinegar can also be adapted into many different homemade RV cleaners and adaptations. For instance, if you have scratches in the wood on your dinette or kitchen cabinets, you can fix them quickly by mixing a quarter cup of vinegar with three-quarters of a cup of olive oil. Rubbing the mixture over the scratches should mask them well, if not fill them in entirely! It’s like your very own homemade magic eraser.
Best of all, vinegar is incredibly cheap, and it means you don’t have to worry about purchasing and storing a ton of different bottles of cleaning solutions. And if there’s anything as good as (or even better than) saving time on cleaning your RV, it’s saving money on the project, too!
COACH’S CAMPFIRE PIZZA!
Get that campfire going!
What you’ll need:
Dutch Oven (A cast iron pot with lid is essential for making gourmet pizza over a campfire.)
Your pizza toppings
The dough – Make the dough at home or camp with three basic ingredients: flour, water and yeast.
Hack: Use your water bottle as a rolling pin.
When you've got glowing coals:
Directions:
Pre-heat your Dutch oven for 20 to 30 minutes.
Grease you oven with high-heat oil.
Slide your pizza into the Dutch oven.
Put the lid on and cover with hot coals.
Check every five minutes by carefully opening the lid.
If the top is nicely browned, it's done and time to eat!
Read on for a sneak peek at the Tonya Kappes’s
Bestselling Killer Coffee Mystery Series
SCENE OF THE GRIND
Now available!
Welcome to Honey Springs, Kentucky where the gossip is as hot as the
coffee is served at the Bean Hive Coffee Shop!
One
Drip, drip, drip.
There is something about coffee that brings people together. And they don’t even have to like coffee. Is it the smell? Is it the comforting sound of the drip? I don’t know. All I did know was that my new coffee shop in the touristy lake town of Honey Springs, Kentucky, The Bean Hive, was opened for business.
“Seven a.m.,” I muttered after I’d glanced up at the clock and drew my eyes back out the front doors of the coffeehouse located in the best spot on the boardwalk that ran along Lake Honey Springs.
The boardwalk held fond memories for me since I used to spend my summers here with my Aunt Maxine. Maxi for short. For the past year my life was stalled in a little bit of what I’d call a fork in the road, so after hearing Aunt Maxi talk about all the revitalization of the boardwalk and not really knowing what to do, it sounded like a splendid idea to open a shop. At the time.
The annual Honey Festival was in a couple of days and all the vendors and the new shops on the boardwalk were holding a grand opening. I’d already had the coffeehouse ready to open since when I moved to Honey Springs a few weeks ago, I made it a point to no longer sit around resting on my laurels, so I opened the shop a few days early. Which might not’ve been the best business plan since my only customers had been a few stragglers here and there. Mainly construction workers who were working day and night to get the shops ready for the big festival.
The Bean Hive was located in the middle of the boardwalk, right across from the pier. It was a perfect spot and I was beyond thrilled with the exposed brick walls and wooden ceiling beams that I didn’t have to touch. Luckily, Aunt Maxi owned the place. The rent was a little steep, but I’d watched a few DIY videos on YouTube to figure out how to make the necessary repairs for inspection. I couldn’t be more pleased with the shiplap wall I’d created myself out of plywood painted white to make it look like real shiplap.
Instead of investing in a fancy menu or even menu boards that attached to the wall, I’d bought four large chalkboards that hung down from the ceiling over the L-shaped glass countertop.
The first chalkboard menu hung over the pie counter and listed the pies and cookies with their prices. The second menu hung over the tortes and quiches. The third menu before the L-shaped counter curved listed the breakfast casseroles and drinks. Over top the other counter the chalkboard listed lunch options, including soups, and catering information.
On each side of the counter was a drink stand. One was a coffee bar with six industrial thermoses with different blends of my specialty coffees as well as one filled with a decaffeinated blend, even though I clearly never understood the concept of that. But Aunt Maxi made sure I understood some people only drink the unleaded stuff. The coffee bar had everything you needed to take a coffee with you. Even an honor system where you could pay and go.
The drink bar on the opposite end of the counter was a tea bar. Hot tea, cold tea. There was a nice selection of gourmet teas and loose leaf teas along with cold teas. I’d even gotten a few antique tea pots from Wild and Whimsy Antique shop, which happened to be the first shop on the boardwalk. If a customer came in and wanted a pot of hot tea, I could fix it for them or they could fix their own to their taste.
A few café tables dotted the inside along with two long window tables with stools butted up to them on each side of the front door. It was a perfect spot to sit, enjoy the beautiful Lake Honey Springs and sip on your favorite beverage.
Which just so happened to be where I was sitting this morning enjoying the view until I realized I’d been here since four a.m. to get the casseroles made and coffees brewed before the opening time of seven a.m. and no one was here.
“You did open a little early,” I said to make myself feel better and hooked my finger in the mug of freshly brewed coffee.
Curling both hands around the mug, I leaned my hip up against the counter and took a sip. Even if no one showed up today, it was better than where I was a year ago. My chin lifted as the first rays of sunshine popped through the large front windows. I closed my eyes and let the breaking of the dawn fill my soul.
It was spring in Kentucky and the leaves were starting to get their deep green color back, filling in the tree line along the lake. A few fishing boats had trolled by since it was a no wake zone. Good fishing started around five a.m. around here and they were usually back by seven. At the far end of the pier was a marina with boat slips and a really neat little restaurant, The Watershed. It was probably the fanciest restaurant in Honey Springs.
With my mug in my hands, I decided to get a whiff of the fresh air.
The bell dinged over the front door when I opened it. Cool air swept in reminding me that spring in Kentucky was cold in the morning and hot in the afternoon. Dressing was always a problem, but with the few uniform pieces I’d picked to go with my black pants and sensible shoes I’d handle the change easily. Besides, the black apron with The Bean Hive logo was amazing and I’d gotten several of those.
Today I’d decided on the thin long-sleeved crew neck and had tied the apron over it.
Since there wasn’t anyone in the coffeehouse, I’d decided to stroll to the right of the coffeehouse on the boardwalk and do a little window shopping, even though most of them weren’t opening until the grand opening this weekend. I walked all the way to the end and looked as I made my way
back, enjoying my cup of coffee and the morning sunrise as it dripped in many colors in the lake. It was funny how water could turn the orange and yellow rays different colors as it mirrored in the lake.
The shops were really coming along. All the shops were butted next to each other with a different awning to boast the name of the shop. Every few feet there were a couple of café tables where visitors could shop and stop to enjoy each other or just the view the boardwalk gave.
Wild and Whimsy was the first shop on the boardwalk. It was an eclectic shop of antiques and repurposed furniture. Beverly and Dan Teagarden were the owners. Their two grown children, Savannah and Melanie helped them run it. Instead of the regular shingled roof, Dan had paid extra to put on a rusty tin roof to go with the store’s theme. They’d kept the awning a red color but without the name. The Wild and Whimsy sign dangled down from the awning.
Honey Comb Salon & Spa was located next and it was a fancy, for Honey Springs, salon. Alice Dee Spicer was the owner and from what I’d overheard through the gossip line Alice had really gotten some new techniques from a fancy school.
Next to Honey Comb Salon & Spa was the Buzz In and Out Diner owned by James Farley. Honey Springs’s very first tattoo parlor, Odd Ink, was next to the diner. I wasn’t sure who owned that. In fact, I didn’t know any of the owners. It was all just idle gossip from Mae Belle and Bunny’s morning coffee run that kept me in the know. They’d also said All About The Details, a new event center, was going in next to the tattoo place along with a bridal shop, Queen For The Day. Then there was me.
The Bean Hive.
The bait and tackle shop was the only shop that was on the pier. It was perfect for the tourists who wanted to fish for the day off the pier. They’d never closed like most of the past shops since the lake always had fishermen. This year was different.
The annual Honey Festival was also in a couple of days, hence the grand opening of the shops, and it did bring visitors far and wide to get a good sampling of our fine Kentucky honey and festival activities. This year the town council, of which my Aunt Maxi sits on the board, decided to move the festival from Central Park in downtown Honey Springs to the boardwalk. Vendors were going to be setting up along the boardwalk across from the shops. I was especially excited to purchase some fresh honey and honeycombs for the coffeehouse.
I’d yet to venture past my shop, but I did know there was some sort of clothing boutique, a knick-knack shop, a spa, a bar and at the very end was Crooked Cat Bookstore, which was an independent bookstore I’d spent many hours in during my summer visits. I fondly remembered a cat that snuggled up to me in the bean bag.
The smell of fresh coffee drifted out of the coffeehouse exactly how I’d envisioned it would. The warm scent filled me with joy where I wasn’t sure I could have joy anymore.
When I opened the door to head back in, I smiled. The Bean Hive was a dream only a year ago and now a reality; I’d created it in my head and had worked hard to make the dream become real. After I filled my cup again, I walked back into the kitchen to check the casseroles I’d put in the oven for the afternoon lunch. I only cooked one thing a day for breakfast and lunch. I baked several things for the customers to enjoy and take home. The Bean Hive was a coffeehouse, not a restaurant, but we all know that food goes well with teas and coffee. It was my way of offering something for everyone.
Today’s special was a sausage casserole that paired great with any flavor coffee or tea. Everything was made fresh, which made the coffeehouse fill with amazing, stomach rumbling aromas no one could refuse.
The bell over the door dinged. I rushed back in the dining area to greet the customer.
“I’m telling you something is wrong,” Bunny Bowowski waddled into The Bean Hive with her brown pocketbook hung in the croak of her arm. “She didn’t answer her phone all night last night.”
“You know, I was by there just around eight o’clock and I did notice the strangest thing.” Mae Belle Donovan stopped just inside the door and put her hand on Bunny’s forearm. “You know those little plug-in candles that are in each one of her windows?”
“Do I?” Bunny rolled her eyes. “We downright got into a fight over them candles. In July of last year I told her that it was not Christmas and she needed to take them things down. In fact, it was hotter than a firecracker, not nary a thought of snow. She said it was decoration.”
“Good morning, ladies.” I greeted them like I’d done the past two mornings around this time.
According to Aunt Maxi, Bunny Bowowski and Mae Belle Donovan never left the house unless they were dressed in a dress, a shawl or coat (depending on the weather) and some sort of hat that sat on their heads like a bow as if it were completing the package.
They’d been friends for so long, they even resembled each other. Both had the exact same haircut, their grey hair was parted to the side and cut at chin length. They both carried a brown pocketbook that was perfectly held in the crook of their right elbow. Both were on the beautification committee. They came down every morning to get a look at the boardwalk to make sure everything was progressing right on schedule.
“Good morning to you.” Bunny nodded and began to walk up to the counter. “Those are lovely daffodils.”
“Thank you.” I scooted them over to the right a little more so I could get a good view of my two customers. “Aren’t they the most vibrant yellow you’ve ever seen?”
“Mmhmmm.” Her brows formed a V.
“I got them at the farmer’s market when I picked out my fresh produce and fruit. And this,” I tapped the vase, very proud of my find, “I found this for one dollar at Wild and Whimsy.”
“They do have some steals for an antique store.” She rotated the clear hourglass vase that had a tin top and a round hole where the flowers went. She ran her finger along etched flowers in the glass. “You certainly got a bargain.”
“Yes. I was very pleased.” I pushed back a strand of my wavy black hair.
Wavy was a loose term for the springy naturally curly hair my head seemed to sprout as soon as water touched it. No matter how much I had it straightened, tried to straighten or even hide in a ponytail, a stray strand of hair sprung out from somewhere.
I glanced toward Mae Belle.
They weren’t the spriest of women, but they certainly got around just fine.
“Hi do.” Mae Belle gave a slight bow. “Something smells delicious.”
“You are just in time for my country sausage casserole.” I pointed to the glass pan I’d just taken out of the oven.
The melted cheese was still bubbling around the edges where it’d not cooled off yet.
“I’m letting it cool off so I can cut nice thick slices.” I found it was best to let a dish cool for around ten minutes to not only set the casserole, but to let the flavors deepen and simmer within the ingredients. “If you’d like to have a cup of coffee while you wait for a slice of the casserole, I’d love to get you some.”
“Oh, Roxanne, you do know us don’t you.” Bunny gave a theatrical wink. She pointed to one of the few café tables I had provided for the customers. “We’ll go on over there.”
I leaned way over the counter and whispered like I had a grand secret, “You can call me Roxy. All my friends do.”
“Roxy with the amazing eyes.” Bunny winked. “You do have beautiful blue eyes.”
“Thank you.” I smiled, grateful for the comment.
I poured two ceramic coffee mugs with The Bean Hive’s own highlander grog and set them on a small round tray along with one of the silver cow cream pitchers I’d gotten on sale at Wild and Whimsy. Most of the china and silver I’d bought for The Bean Hive was from there, since the old things go great with the exposed brick walls, wood pallet furniture and big comfy chairs I’d used to decorate the shop, as well as the old tin signs and the chalkboard menus that hung above the counter.
“Roxy.” A big smile curled up on her face. “Now that’s a name with character.”
“That’s what I hear.
” I chuckled and excused myself where I retreated into the kitchen.
For the last year, I’d gotten up way before the rooster crowed, so to speak, which was about four a.m. around these parts. Only I hadn’t been in these parts. Only recently had I moved back to Honey Springs. I’m not sure if it was to get away from the life I’d left behind due to my divorce or if I needed a little bit of familiarity or comfort. Regardless, I’m what I’d like to call a retired lawyer even at the young age of thirty. Retired because after my divorce, I hated lawyers. It was then that I’d listened to all that junk about following your passion. Doing what you love. Life is too short, yada-yada. One four a.m. morning, I couldn’t sleep and fixed myself a cup of coffee. It was then and there that I decided I wanted to go to barista school and I’ve never looked back.
“The shops are looking great,” I called over my shoulder on the way back to the kitchen to check the rest of the casseroles before I stuck the lunch ones in.
“We are pleased as peaches on how Cane Contractors has really stayed on schedule.” I heard Bunny say after I walked through the door into the kitchen.
Cane Contractors. A lump formed in my throat at the sound of the name. It was very hard to swallow. I shook my head to make the thought go away.
“What on earth?” I looked at the convection oven with the morning sausage casseroles in it and noticed the digital buttons weren’t lit up.
I hit the oven button and nothing. I opened the oven door. The casseroles were still running and lumpy. I stuck my hand in the oven and it was cold. Not a lick of heat.
“Great,” I groaned and hurriedly took out a couple of the four casseroles I had in there and moved them to the other convection oven next to it where I crammed them in with the lunch quiches. “This is going to have to work.” I gulped knowing it probably wasn’t going to work since both of them required different cooking temperatures.
