And then there are weeknights when I come home, tired and achey, but too stubborn to let Mike cook, or help, or do anything more than mix us a round and keep me company while I stand at the stove. And on those nights, I turn to the familiar, the things that, while they may require a few extra pots and pans, I can almost turn out in my sleep. The chicken, mole sauce and beans were all left over from previous dinners, and last night, they got remixed into a meal of enchiladas, refried beans, and Mexican rice, as comfortable and comforting as an old sweater. Sometimes, that’s just what you need.