Raíces: Rooted in Faith, Familia, and Friendship

One of life’s joys for me is cooking.  Based off my favorite aunt’s example, cooking and baking evoke memories, create warmth and convey love.  I’m known in my circles as someone who will always bring a dish to a gathering, with a decent chance of it being made from scratch. 

I consider myself adventurous in the kitchen.  I will try anything once if I can understand the recipe.  However, if I fail, it might be 25 years before I try it again.  I’m looking at you, flan.

When I first moved to South Florida, I didn’t anticipate that I would have a hard time finding Puerto Rican food.  That first holiday season without pasteles was profoundly sad.  The following year, I set out to try and make them myself since I couldn’t find a pastel plug in Broward County. I did well and 19 years later, I’m going strong every season.  I even purchased a machine and had it shipped from the island to make the masa, because grating the root vegetables by hand is not the move!  I had Neosporin on my hands for a full week this one time.

When I consider a recipe, I make sure first that I can recognize and readily find the ingredients.  I account for how long it will take to make the dish and ensure I have the time to execute.  This includes the kitchen deep clean that needs to occur before, as well as the shopping trip. Finally, I line up my small appliances, gadgets, pots and dishes.  I set out all the ingredients and get to it.

Last year, I attempted to make pan de Mallorca.  These are small, slightly sweet bread rolls, shaped like a cinnamon roll and dusted with confectioners’ sugar.  They are a staple at Puerto Rican bakeries, often used to make ham and cheese sandwiches.  So good!

I learned that when working with yeast (a new medium for me) I had to factor in periods of rest so the dough could rise.  I had not had that bread since I was an adolescent and when I took the first bite, my eyes welled up with tears.  It was a hit and I was tasting memories.

I wish that I approached other areas in my life with the same reverence as I do recipes.  Wouldn’t it be better for me if I could appreciate that I need to consider what is needed and how long something would take to determine if it’s possible for me?  All while recognizing that most risks are possible and the process valuable.  It seems I’m missing the sense of adventure to try certain things at least once. 

If I find I’m lacking in an area, I need to seek out the things I need to simplify my approach. Take a deep breath and just try.  See how it comes out.  Sometimes it’s close enough that I want to try again and sometimes it’s an instant success.  Other times, it wasn’t for me to attempt, I can be content with getting it already made from an outside source.  Whether it’s edible or trash in the end, it’s usually worth the experience.

I’m going to keep these thoughts on file as I wake up each day.  That I will try to live both grateful and curious.  That I will employ my strengths and stretch a bit beyond the norm from time to time.  I want to be both methodical and adaptable as life’s curveballs come.  Finally, if I do figure it out and I make something great, I will do what I always do with my yummy creations: share it with as many as I can.