Clairvoyance

Cooking is a universal compilation of knowledge, it's the continuous debate of which technique is better and why, it's chemistry and physics, it's survival. Cooking brings people together, whether it's your grandmother forcing you to clean a monumental pile of corn for Sunday's pozole, your friend trying to be all "manly" telling you how to grill a steak to perfection while being completely intoxicated with PBRs, or cooking for people in need. Cooking can also be a form of art and a way to express the way you feel.
Cooking is knowledge, and you never stop learning.

That's why I dislike celebrity chefs in pop culture, sharing recipes and procedures of public domain for a grotesque amount of money, copywriting the evolution of food and with it, erasing basic skills of survival. It's knowledge, not magic.

When we are kids, he have a powerful curiosity for food preparation and where does food comes from, then we develop some sort of culinary clairvoyance, full of tabus and lies, but we are kids, I'll just call it "magic" then we find a sexist world, were each gender has a role, and of course I'm talking about Macho-Mexico, the kitchen is not for the man. But, my curiosity never went away, to the contrary, this gender-bullshit made it even more exciting, because now, every time I grabbed an onion or garlic and peeled it for my mom, I felt I was in fact creating something magical, underground. I would have to basically camouflage or something in order to retain my "manhood".

Acquiring knowledge is always a challenge, and so is getting fresh food nowadays. I witnessed the decline of Mexican Family-owned farms and everyday-local farmers markets, I saw miles and miles of fertile lands being redeveloped in order to supply not just (or at all) the local market, but our hungry USA, instead of free range chickens, and seriously, they were as free as seeing chickens eating next to you while waiting in the bus stop, but instead of that, now I saw enormous buildings with thousands of animals with no freedom. All of that farming know-how went to huge corporations, profiting with knowledge, making it harder to even get a share of it. I saw farmers leaving everything behind for a dream, I saw them abandoning entire towns, the most cruel diaspora of modern times. Something most rural Mexican immigrants have in common, they still have that knowledge with them, and also, a dream to maybe one day, start all over again.

Life is ironic. I was studying to maybe one day work in politics, but my love for food never went away, I decided to tell my parents about my decision, I wanted to go to a culinary school and become a chef. My mother got all excited, we talked for hours about how I helped her in the kitchen when I was a kid and stuff, but now it was time to face my dad. Well, that was one of the most unpleasant moments of my life. He was so upset, so confused, so full of passive-aggressiveness. I remember one of his lines "Is that why you don't have a girlfriend?" I did answer in my head (No, I don't have a girlfriend because I'm the biggest antisocial nerd in the classroom and nobody invites me to parties) So again, gender roles. He said, "Then you have to find your own path"

We left Mexico City and moved back to small town living, Mazatlan. Without my dad. My mother and I started a small restaurant with Mexican food (no, not the "FOR REAL, THIS IS THE MOST AUTHENTIC ONE) but we needed more money, so I was looking for a second job, so I walked to a restaurant couple blocks away from my mom's business, saw the "Hiring" sign and talked to the owner, she hired me immediately as general chef helper, whatever that means. That was the most exhausting experience ever, from going to the market for both, my mother's restaurant and my new job, cleaning grills and fryers, chopping cases and cases of tomatoes and onions, cleaning fresh seafood, making handmade tortillas, etc, etc, etc. I was working 18 hours a day. No time for school, no time for friends, no time for family.
But I was doing what I wanted to do, I was finally cooking, acquiring knowledge at a very high cost, intense labor but how much I learned.

Sadly, my mother's health was not the best at that moment, my income was not sufficient and her business was not doing that well.  My brother had a car accident. I was completely overwhelmed, so I decided to  buy a plane ticket, take my US$50 saved in the bank, which I thought it was a lot, said goodbye to my girlfriend and friends, to my mom and brother, to my two dogs and turtles, to the ocean. I left everything behind because I wanted to save my mother and I wanted to learn more and to become a chef one day, again.

My first job in the US was not food related, I was painting houses in some Wisconsin suburb, I think it was Watertown, but I'm not sure, at that time, I knew a little English, such as: Elephant, Apple, Thank You.
So, for months I was just sending money to Mexico, and looking for a kitchen job. Finally found one, for pantry/prep. My first night at this restaurant, I cut my finger while chopping tomatoes, never been that embarrassed in my life.

Knowledge is a fascinating trip, I chose food, and I owe everything I know to many people that had the patience to teach me, to people that made me feel like shit, but I learned anyways, to my mother and grandmothers, to street vendors in Mexico City, to amazing coworkers in Mexico and Wisconsin.

So, I just want to share the recipes and techniques I've learned over the years and share them with you. This is of course just a long "Hi, this is me" letter and I will now write recipes in the next posts.

PS, My dad learned how to cook, however, his food always looks brown, but it's pretty good stuff, he also learned how to respect my profession and he's proud of me.