When my mom passed, I lost more than just her. I lost many of her recipes, which only existed because she was around to cook them. I took for granted that she’d always be a phone call away and that I could simply ask, “Mami, cómo se hace [insert dish]?”

After her passing, I remember going back to Puerto Rico, completely lost, in search of something that would bring me closer to her. It was then that I realized Puerto Rican food had completely changed for me. It was no longer just the food I grew up with, but rather the food I was desperately trying to preserve. I found myself asking questions I wish I had asked sooner, sitting with my grandma and aunt, comparing versions, testing recipes, and trying to rebuild what was never written down.

So when I say, “make sure you notice,” I mean it literally.
Sometimes we don’t realize how much something matters until we are suddenly trying to find our way back to it.

[First image is AI-generated using my likeness. All food imagery is original photography.] ...

The more I study Puerto Rican food, the more I realize how much of our culinary history can disappear if we only talk about the dishes that have become “our greatest hits.” Note: this is a diaspora kid talking. This isn’t to imply that they are not spoken about in Puerto Rico.

But for me, Funche is a perfect example. For generations, it was an important cornmeal dish, particularly among Puerto Rico’s less advantaged families. But after World War II, cornmeal increasingly became associated with poverty, while new cereals and flour products entered the Puerto Rican diet. Over time, funche has seemingly become less common. And while the foods that become iconic tell us something about who we are, so do the ones that are rarely mentioned or, better said, that I rarely hear about.

So when I say Puerto Rican food is far too complex to live in the shadows of a few famous recipes, I don’t mean those classics deserve any less attention. I just mean that our understanding of Puerto Rican food deserves to reflect its full breadth.

For me, learning about dishes like funche, gandinga, almojábanas, and so many others gives me a fuller picture of Puerto Rico. Its regions, its people, its economic realities, and the generations of cooking that existed long before any dish became a “greatest hit.” ...

This risotto de gandules came about because one of my favorite restaurants took their version off the menu. You can imagine my dismay when I went to order it, only to be told, it was no longer available. So naturally, I did what I do. I went home, started figuring out how to make my own, and tested it until I got it as close as possible. What came out is this perfect play on the Puerto Rican classic. Let’s just call this the remix, because greatness could never be replaced, but it can certainly inspire. ...