Arroz con gandules was never something my mom waited until the holidays to make. If we wanted it, she made it. It could be Christmas, or it could be a completely ordinary day of the week. It didn’t matter.

I recently wrote about where things stand with my cookbook (over on Substack), and the truth is that it is still an enormous unknown. I’ve spent years trying to recover my mom’s recipes. Years thinking there would eventually be a publisher on the other side of all this work. But lately I’ve had to think much more seriously about what it continues to look like when that yes still hasn’t come.

So that has made the “ordinary food” even more important to me.

Not necessarily the recipes tied to a holiday or a big family moment (although, to know me is to know I live for these as well), but the ones she made over and over again, almost too casually. The truth is, it’s the food I never thought I would one day have to work so hard to remember. To write down thoroughly so I’d never risk losing any of it again.

So, for now, I’m forging ahead… ...

Crispy Pegao Salad - yes, you read that correctly.

I got to play with some leftover pegao in a way that still feels like pegao, and turned it into a salad. So, I tucked crispy pieces between romaine lettuce, charred corn, avocado, red onion, and cilantro. Then I made a quick, homemade creamy lime-garlic dressing to drizzle on top, and can I just say, it was 10/10.

Consider yourself influenced. This is a must-try. ...

I am aware of my own position in telling this story. I write from the diaspora, not from inside the day-to-day reality of living this very situation.

I am not the person rationing water, waiting for a tanker, or carrying it home. I can read the reports, listen to Puerto Ricans living through this, and try to understand what it means, but I never want proximity through culture to become a claim of proximity to someone else’s suffering.

I also don’t cover politics broadly. Food politics, however, is something I continue to research for my work and am deeply passionate about.

As I researched Puerto Rico’s water crisis, I began to ask: What happens to food infrastructure when water is no longer reliable?

Water can become so ordinary to those of us accustomed to having it every day that we overlook how much depends on it. Yet it underpins nearly every part of feeding ourselves. Growing food. Preparing it. Cleaning it. Cooking it. All of it.

And that is where the question expands beyond water itself to who has reliable access to it.

The drought in Puerto Rico is real, and conserving water is necessary. But the shortages do not neatly begin with this drought. Puerto Ricans were already reporting prolonged interruptions, while the water system has documented enormous physical losses of its own.

Any serious conversation about Puerto Rican food must also consider the systems that make feeding people possible.

We, myself included, often talk about food as recipes and ingredients, and far less about what has to work before either is possible.

Food does not begin with a recipe. It begins with what makes a recipe possible, and water is essential to all of it.

To care about Puerto Rican food is also to care about whether Puerto Ricans have what they need to keep making it.

Sources / Further Reading
Fiscal Year 2024 Consulting Engineer’s Report for the Puerto Rico Aqueduct and Sewer Authority — Arcadis Caribe, P.S.C.

Sedimentation Survey of Lago Loíza, Puerto Rico, July 2009 — Luis R. Soler-López and N.A. Licha-Soler, U.S. Geological Survey.

Once Beset by Power Outages, Puerto Ricans Also Hit With Severe Water Shortages — Dánica Coto, Associated Press. ...