Cooking from the Heart

My earliest childhood memories consist of me standing in my grandmother’s kitchen as she cooked for our family.  I can recall smelling the spicy chile de árbol roasting on the grill, seeing the varying spectrum of bright red tomatoes and the contrast of striking green cilantro and jalapenos, tasting the fresh spicy salsa, hearing the stone crush jalapenos against the molcajete, and feeling the avocados for the level of ripeness required for quality guacamole.

A good cook understands the importance of utilizing all five human senses.

My love and fascination for cooking started at around age five.  I would stand in the kitchen and observe my grandmother (or Ama as we call her in my family) cook traditional Mexican dishes. As I got older I would ask my Ama for the ingredients to my most treasured recipes.  “Just put a little of this and little of that” she would say, forgetting that her time cooking traditional dishes greatly outnumbered my experience, or expertise for that matter. On certain days I would find myself frustrated because I could never duplicate her recipes. However, over the years I would eventually develop my own style similar to my Ama’s cooking style. My appreciation for making homemade meals was much more than just cooking for the family.

Both of my grandmothers emigrated from Mexico to the US and both women made a living by cooking for others.  My Abuelita Estella, my paternal grandmother, immigrated to central California with my grandfather and her four children.  My grandmother cooked for migrant workers who labored in the fields. Cooking was a top skill she could use to help support her family. As she was widowed in her 30’s, cooking would serve as a livelihood for her and her family.

As I was growing up, my Abuelita Estella lived between Los Angeles and Mexico.  Every time she came to visit our home in San Francisco, she would cook amazing feasts. Her best dishes were birria (marinated goat) or camarones a la diabla (shrimp in spicy deep red sauce).  The hearty meal became a way for our tight-knit family to enjoy time together. Food was a symbol of her commitment and love. She was the heart of the family.

Ama, my maternal grandmother, was a vital part of my life. She helped raise me and I am thankful for her support as both of my parents worked full-time. Ama immigrated to San Francisco with my grandfather in the 60’s and was also widowed in their 30’s with seven children in the US. When I was younger, I would visit her after school only to find her making a plethora of tamales. She sold the tamales to local restaurants and to family members or friends who placed orders. She was enterprising. The process to make tamales was long, she would first make the mole, chicken and prepare the masa for the tamales.  The next day, my aunts would come over and help my grandmother prepare the tamales and then place in a pot to prepare and boil. As my grandmother aged, she eventually retired from making tamales because it was too labor intensive. I dreaded tamale days as a kid because that’s all we would eat, but now it’s one of those dishes I crave since Ama only makes them for special occasions now.  My grandmother was well known for the dishes she would make during Lent, which consisted of chiles rellenos (breaded green chiles with poignant Mexican cheese) and capirotada (Mexican bread pudding).  My family would gather at my Ama’s whenever she put together our favorite recipes.

Ama always stressed the importance of education.  She said her sacrifices were all worth seeing her grandchildren graduate from the country’s top universities.  “Mis hijos son mi riqueza,” (my children are my wealth) is a quote she always repeated to us.  Both of my grandmothers were widowed at a young age and made a life out of cooking.  The love and hard work they put into their cooking is what has motivated me to work hard in life.  My grandmothers cooked as a means to provide for their families.  They both retired from cooking for others and continued putting together family feasts where we all come together.

I now see myself cooking the same way my grandmothers do.    I have collected my grandmother’s recipes and cook for my family and friends. As the years have gone by, I have tweaked the recipes but I can never get it quite right.  I have come to realize that the reason I can’t duplicate my grandmother’s dishes is because they put their heart and souls in providing and cooking for their families.  My journey is different so the dishes I create for my family and friends will embody the love I have for those closest to me.  My grandmothers immigrated to the US and persevered regardless of all the obstacles. Their love for the family and hard work ethic is what has motivated me throughout the years to pursue my dreams.