Mexico, Spanish Harlem, and Me.

Photo by @churrochops, Ixtapa, Zihuatanejo, Mexico, June 2023

My story begins in the place of my birth: Ixtapa, Zihuatanejo, a charming fishing town in Mexico. My mother hails from Tlapa, a town nestled deep in the mountains of Guerrero. She relocated to my father's town, Petatlán, situated along the Pacific coast, after their wedding.

Photo by @churrochops, Tlapa de Comonfort, Guerrero, Mexico, June 2023

Growing up, I had the privilege of traveling between the coastal beaches and mountain valleys, immersing myself in a rich tapestry of cultural knowledge. I gained a deep understanding of the connection between the mountains, herbs, and coffee beans, as well as the dynamic interplay between la leña y su comal para las gordas, a staple in a costeño's diet.

Photo by @churrochops, Petatlan, Guerrero, Mexico, June 2023

However, the thriving Mexico we see today was not the one I knew as a child. Motivated by the pursuit of a brighter future for me and the rising violence, my parents made the courageous decision to leave everything behind and immigrate to the United States. With the support of family members, we made our way to New York City.

Renowned as a haven for immigrants, New York City offered the support we needed to succeed. My family settled in Spanish Harlem in the early '90s, a neighborhood known for its vibrant Hispanic and Black communities and low rent prices. I attended various schools in the area, creating a cultural almanac in my mind.

Photo not my original work, found on instagram posted by @iwyndt

When asked what immigrants miss most about their homeland, many will likely say: food. There is a profound connection between you and the land when you savor produce from your homeland. In those moments, you are not just nourishing your body; you are nourishing your soul. I grew up enjoying exclusively Mexican cuisine at home, prepared by my mother or aunts, until I was invited into the kitchen to learn the family recipes.

However, being so far from Mexico compared to other states like California, Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas, and being among the first wave of immigrants this far north, limited our access to Mexican produce and products. Furthermore, the Mexican population was so small that the demand didn't justify much supply. As a result, what was available on the East Coast was scarce, inconsistenet, and often times illegally imported through "paqueterias," where individuals traveling between Mexico and the US brought packages of produce like chorizo, cecina, cheeses, creams, and breads to resell. Despite its lucrativeness, this method couldn't sustain the growing population and thus the growing demand.

Photo not my original work, found on google images

People began recreating their family recipes here: making cheese in bathtubs, hanging meats to dry from curtain rods, baking bread in their home ovens, selling the produce out of their homes, and using word of mouth to sell—much like early Italians. Over time, Mexican stores and delis emerged, followed by Mexican restaurants, fostering predominantly Mexican communities throughout the city, including Spanish Harlem, now often referred to as Little Mexico.

Photo not my original work, found on google images

The power of food enabled us to preserve our culture while simultaneously permeating America, mirroring my own life where I became a hybrid between the memories of a Mexico I had left behind and the America I was now a part of.

Through hard work and sacrifice, I have reached this point, grateful for the path ahead and your presence here. Thank you for your time, and I look forward to sharing our journey with you.

🍄💕