Birria.

You probably have realized by now that I hate writing recipes, and when I do I write 5 pages and at least 90% of the content is explaining the why of the technique. I also have to recognize that nowadays all you have to do in order to find a recipe is Google, just type the word "Papaya" and you'll get a thousand options from celebrity chefs (or their ghost writers actually) and I have no intentions to even try to compare myself to any of those people, or even amazing local chefs.

I'll share some recipes here and there, but I guess I have to feel comfortable with that person, of course I like sharing, specially knowledge, but I also think cooking is a very personal thing, when you're creating something the last thing you need is an internet smartass judging you or telling you "That sounds good, but I would do it ..." and in the world of the foodies it's just as common as breathing. I could compare cooks with painters, and foodies with an opinion with art collectors, because it's easier to know everything about art, but they'll never get the most intimate part of the painting.

Basically, I like talking about food, restaurants and traumatic experiences, anything but writing specific recipes, but I will, eventually.

The problem I have with celebrity chefs it's how elitist they can be, they take dishes from all over the world, they appropriate someone's culture and then twist it and say "I did it, I'm awesome" not all celebrity chefs, because I respect many who actually spend time in different countries listening, learning and then sharing it just as is. But there's nothing more heartbreaking than (white) chef going to let's say, Peru, and tell Peruvians "Your food is amazing, mmmm, but.... " OK, at that point you need to go back to Brooklyn mi amigo, and take a seat.

In Latin America at least (and I know it's the same in Africa and Pacific Asia) food is a religious act, it comes from the soul, we are lucky enough to have amazing ingredients from fish to fruits and exotic spices, which are not exotic at all when you live there, there's nothing glamorous about food, but a lot of pride, and of course we like sharing our recipes and food with the world, but it really is an intimate act, you don't want a Food Network person who barely understands Latin America's history telling you "That looks good, but why do you cook veal with vanilla, gross, make a mango salsa ay, ay, ay, ay, ay "

We need to understand that the relationship between Europe/US and Latin America is an abusive one, we take your best ingredients (Thanks NAFTA), we take your ideas, we copyright them and then make you cook for us, but we take credit for it, and by we I mean them, white celebrity chefs.

One specific case I would like to analyze with you is birria. Mexicans have been eating birria and barbacoa for centuries, and before we cooked goats and sheep, we cooked jungle pigs and other creatures in an underground oven. Most barbacoas are cooked in modern ovens today, especially in the U.S. because local authorities think that cooking meat in dirt is somehow a barbaric practice (again, "I'll tell you how to do it better" attitude) but ok, it's still delicious, not like the classic Jalisco style, more like French, and trust me, there's a huge difference.

Anyway, we've been eating and cooking barbacoa and chivos for a long time the same way, and I don't have an exact number of Mexican immigrants in the U.S. right now, I mean I could Google it, but it's a fact I usually don't carry in my wallet just to impress, but we are a lot of Mexicans, since the era of the Braceros to today (and even before when half of the US was Mexico), you'll see food trucks or Mexican restaurants with "Birria, Barbacoa" you can eat probably 5 tacos and a soda for $10, and it's usually a once or twice a week lunch. Well, here comes the celebrity chef that one day had the great idea to "explore" the ghetto and eats in that "exotic" restaurant, picks something that looks "exotic" and it's not a chimichanga, because I still don't know who in hell invented the chimichanga, or the word, it's the most stupid word I've ever heard, But anyway, so this white dude goes to this place, picks something exotic and says "oh my God, this shit is so good" then he tells other white dudes, and these people work for a famous food magazine, they interview the cooks, not for publishing purposes, but just to get the recipe, so the cooks share the recipe.

Now you have an explosion of barbacoa restaurants in Southern California, New York and Chicago and I'm not making this up, but the new restaurants are now operated by rich white people, the cooks with humble restaurants now work for them, but the celebrity chef "owns" the recipe, they get more attention and now it's a thing, eating Barbacoa is the Ray Bans of food.

I wish there was a better way to describe this phenomenon, but it's Christopher Columbus "discovering" America all over again (what? brown people have souls?) and I'm glad that middle-class America is expanding their culinary frontiers, just remember, you didn't discover it, you didn't invent it, you can't reinvent it, you can eat it, you can ask for the recipe, you can cook it at home, etc. but you need to ask in a nice way, you know? stupid consent applies here too.

It's not black or white fortunately, food is universal and brings people of different cultures together.