Black beans and rice, tomato, prosciutto, Gruyère

There's a nice looking lunch. It's almost like a sandwich without bread, if a sandwich were to explode into separate piles. And if to accompany that splody sandwich you had rice and beans instead of some kind of oily fried potato. 

Black beans and rice. Something held over from earlier. They're still quite good. The beans are cooked to the tooth. You probably would not like them, but I do. If I would make beans and rice for guests, unlikely, I would make a point to overcook the beans to near mush. It's just one of the small ways I try to accommodate the tastes of the people in my circle even when they are hopelessly wrong and resolutely unteachable. 

A few slices of deli prosciutto. I wouldn't bother with that either por los compadres mios. They would rather have bacon. In fact, I discovered when preparing a dish for a party that includes bacon, to go ahead and crisp up an excess of at least something like 50o%, then offer it right there in the kitchen as if it were a personal offering and ever so naughty. Guest do love that. It's the sort of thing one's mother would smack one's hands for. So I plan for it, to act as a sort of cheater's quasi hors d'oeuvre. Conversely, it's a total drag to fill up the place with the aroma of bacon cooking then force everybody to wait for a tiny unsatisfactory pittance. I offer this hint for successful hosting. 

A large hothouse tomato diced to irregular chunks, combined with a single scallion chopped to bits, just for fun. Olive oil, rice vinegar, sea salt, freshly ground black pepper.

Grand cru (that means vintage) Gruyère. It's all of the eh. This shows once again that in all cases my preference is for strong cheese that goes: 

This doesn't do that, irrespective of it own bragging about being aged.