“How’s Gary?” my masseuse Charlie inquired upon greeting me yesterday. “Gary?” I asked, searching my brain. I was unable to think of a single Gary in my social circle. Charlie smiled as he watched me scramble to respond before I realized he was referring to Gary MacEoin from the book. He had been reading Lost and Found in Cuba and Gary, so dear to me when he was alive, had become real to Charlie.

And that is the miracle of writing— and the magic of reading—that marks left on blank white pages could do their symbolic work and bridge from the private world of my Cuba experience to the imagination of a reader. What an amazing process! As Charlie worked shiatsu magic on my sore muscles with his strong hands and socked feet, he recalled with delight details of Gary’s wisdom and our quirky encounters. The mirror of Charlie’s recollections coaxed memories of Gary back to the surface of my consciousness where I savored them again, completing the circle between reader and writer.

After our time together in Cuba, Gary and I kept in touch by email, mostly about writing. I never made it to one of his Saturday night open houses in San Antonio. He died in 2003 at the age of 94. On a steamy day in August, friends of Gary gathered in locations around the country to celebrate his extraordinary life. Those of us unable to attend one of the organized events were advised to honor him in personal ways. I claimed my MFA in writing from Goucher College that day and thought of Gary as the diploma was placed in my hand.

I have been looking for the perfect recipe for black beans ever since my Peace Corps days when I first tasted the saucy, smoky, and succulent frijoles prepared by the campesina wife of the farmer who grew them and cooked on an open fire in a clay pot. No recipe—of the many I have tried-- ever came close to matching the beans of my memory. I was about to relinquish all hope when I saw the recipe below in the March 7, 2010 New York Times Magazine. I decided to give it one last try and followed the directions exactly. TA DA--- at last! This is the Holy Grail of bean recipes, worth every step of preparation and every gram of fat. And these beans only get denser and more delicious with reheating. Now, if I can just find a clay pot and an open fire, perfection may be within reach!

Cuban Black Beans

1 ½ green peppers stemmed and seeded

10 garlic cloves

1 pound dried black beans, rinsed and picked over to remove any stones

1 smoked ham hock

2 bay leaves

5 teaspoons salt, or to taste

¼ cup olive oil

4 slices thick bacon, cut into ½ inch peaces

1 Spanish onion, diced

1 jalapeño pepper, stemmed and finely chopped

1 teaspoon dried oregano

½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

3 T distilled white vinegar

1 T turbinado or other brown sugar

1.       Cut 1 green pepper into 1 inch squares. Smash and peel 4 of the garlic cloves. Put the green pepper and garlic into a large pot with the beans, ham hock, bay leaves and 1 T salt. Add 2 quarts water and bring to boil. Cover the pot and simmer until the beans are tender, an hour or more.

2.       Meanwhile, make a sofrito. Cut the remaining ½ green pepper into ¼ inch dice. Peel and finely chop the remaining garlic. Heat the olive oil in a very large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the bacon and cook, stirring occasionally, until it starts to brown, about 5 minutes. Add the green pepper and onion and cook, stirring, until slightly softened, about 3 minutes. Add the garlic, jalapeño (leave out seeds if you don’t want it too spicy), oregano, cumin, black pepper and 2 teaspoons salt and stir for another minute. Pour in the vinegar and scrape any browned bits from bottom of pan with a wooden spoon. This is your sofrito.

3.       When the beans are cooked, discard the bay leaf. Remove and set aside the ham hock and let it cool. Transfer 1 cup of beans to small bowl, mash them into a paste with the back of a fork and return to the pot. Add the sofrito, then the sugar. Pull the meat from the ham hock, leaving behind any white sinew or gristle. Chop the ham into ½ inch pieces and return it to the bean pot.

4.       Stir the beans well and bring to a boil over medium heat, then lower to a simmer and cook, uncovered, for 20 minutes or so, skimming any foam from the top. Taste for salt and serve with white rice. Serves 8-10

The above recipe was adapted for Times readers from “Tastes Like Cuba” by Eduardo Machado and Michael Domitrovich.