Oh, we know… so, let’s just call this a little Hispanic Heritage Month reminder for those that don’t. 🤭

Which others ones should we include that I didn’t list? ...

After I-don’t-know-how-many failed attempts, comparisons to my aunt’s recipe (after all, they both learned from my grandma), and calls to my cousin, who often watched my mom cook closely—thank God for that—I think I finally nailed it.

I often say nothing will ever be as good as my mom’s, but through this process, I’m starting to believe that maybe it can be done. What this journey has also taught me is that recovering her recipes means learning not to rewrite them in the way I mostly cook today. Otherwise, I’d be doing a pretty terrible job of preserving her food history.

Here are her habichuelas guisadas. These over some white rice will not disappoint. Save this recipe and definitely give it a try.

With love, from me and my mom (who I am sure is watching 🥹). ...

It’s funny how 908 days sounds strangely neat when written as a number.

But this number doesn’t account for the recipes I got wrong before I got them right (and still at it). The endless phone calls to my aunt, cousin, grandma, and extended family, asking questions. The days I could almost taste my mom’s recipe, only to be reminded that almost is as close as I will ever get.

It doesn’t account for the six no’s from literary agents or the one yes that made me believe that perhaps the hardest part was behind me. Or even the publisher rejections that have come after and made me realize I was just beginning again. And it certainly doesn’t account for how complicated it is to want something this badly and also know it might never come to fruition.

The truth is, there are days that I am certain this cookbook will exist. I often picture myself holding it, imagining opening the first box, seeing my mom’s recipes all bound together, and knowing that something I thought I had lost forever somehow made its way into the world. Then there are those days when I wonder whether believing in something for this long makes me resilient or simply afraid to admit that it may never happen.

This story, to date, has no triumphant ending I can package neatly for you. I don’t know whether a publisher will ever say yes or whether the cookbook will ever sit on a shelf.

I only know that I am not ready to let it go. So perhaps, instead of waiting until I know how this story ends, I’ll let you see what happens while I’m finding out.

Day 909 begins tomorrow…

📷 by @alcides.nyc & @mjrpics ...

Just saying. 🤭🤭🤭

A special thank you to my very talented friend @interior.shade (an interior designer you must follow) who sent me this trend bc clearly we speak the same language. ❤️

P.S. I don’t mind matcha or Pilates 😂 but I’d choose Puerto Rican food every time. ...