A Recipe for Memory: Hispanic Heritage as Told Through Cultural Dishes

Posted On: October 10, 2025

Foreword by Silvia Mejía, director of Spanish language programs.

The recipes gathered in this celebration of Hispanic Heritage Month read like stories. Rather than emphasizing exact quantities or the appearance of the final dish, these tales revel in the process, in the ways that, through preparing and sharing meals, we bond with people, places, and cultures; we grow; and we create memories forever tied to a particular texture, aroma, or taste. Some of these stories are epic accounts of elaborate holiday dishes that demand, quite literally, an assembly line of family and friends, several days of preparation, and children darting in and out of the kitchen, chasing chickens or each other. Others, by contrast, turn the making of an everyday staple into a meditation on food as a vessel of connection, identity, and belonging. Taken together, they remind us that some recipes are not just a list of instructions, but a path that brings us home, no matter where we are.

Arepas panameñas | Shared by Claire Ziamandanis, linguist.

This recipe is from my dear friend, Aurea Torrijos, in our day known as “Baby.” She was the youngest sibling of Omar Torrijos, who wrestled the Panama Canal back from the U.S.

Baby, at 60 years old, after a long career as an actress, decided to enroll in the graduate program in Madrid, OFINES, linguistics and literature taught in weekly conferencias, [or conferences,] by some of the greatest thinkers of the time.

Baby came over to our apartment one day for the midday meal and taught us how to make arepas. She was not afraid to take on anything new in life. She is still alive now, too, showing up often in one of her daughter’s Facebook posts. Every time I have a warm arepa it brings me back to that kitchen, the laughs as we worked together, with a nice glass of Rioja on the side.

 The recipe:

  • Refined, precooked corn meal flour.
  • Equal portions of corn meal flour and water.
  • Boil the water.
  • Add the water little by little to the corn meal flour, mixing as you go.
  • Add thin-sliced or shredded cheese and some butter.
  • Knead till mixed well.
  • Fry in oil.

Arroz con gandules, pernil, ensalada de papa, arroz con dulce y coquito | Shared by Irene Oramas Sosa, bilingual multimedia technologist.

A Taste of Tradition: Christmas at My Grandparents’ Table

When I was little, I lived with my mom, my sister, and my mom’s parents. Every Christmas, our home was transformed by the different aromas that would fill every corner of the house, and the kitchen was always alive with energy. I remember that at 6 a.m. my step-grandfather would gather all the ingredients for the pork seasoning. Meanwhile, my grandmother would prepare the arroz con gandules (she used to soak the gandules my sister and I gathered from the patio in water), arroz con dulce (she would soak the rice grain overnight), the ensalada de papa, and the coquito drink.

It is a memory I will never forget, because all of us had to wake up early to help around the house, either by cleaning… or cleaning! Once the meal was ready (not lunch, but dinner at 5 p.m.) you could hear the rhythms of the “seis chorreao” and “trova” music that my grandpa used to like. They would sound in the background of our family gatherings when playing dominoes, while my sister, cousins, and I ran through the house in our holiday clothes playing hide-and-seek until we were breathless and reluctant to let the night end.

Looking back, I realize that my grandparents gave us more than a meal—they gave us a legacy. A reminder of the importance of family, tradition, and culture. So, for me, these dishes will always be more than food. They are a tradition that I continue to practice every holiday. With the exception of the pork—I do rotisserie chicken!

The recipes:

Arroz con Gandules (Rice with Pigeon Peas)

  • 2 cups medium-grain rice
  • 1 can (15 oz) gandules (pigeon peas), drained
  • 3 tbsp sofrito y recaito
  • 2 tbsp tomato sauce
  • 2 tbsp corn oil
  • 2 cups chicken broth (or water)
  • 1 packet sazón with azafrán
  • 1–2 tbsp olives, optional
  • Salt to taste

Heat oil in a caldero, or deep pot. Add sofrito, tomato sauce, sazón, and olives, cooking until fragrant. Stir in gandules and rice, coating well. Add broth, stir, and bring to a boil. Reduce heat, cover, and cook until rice is tender (about 25–30 minutes). Fluff with a fork before serving.

Ensalada de Papa Puertorriqueña (Puerto Rican Potato Salad)

  • 5 medium potatoes, peeled and cubed
  • 3 hard-boiled eggs, chopped
  • 1 medium apple (red or green), peeled and diced
  • ½ cup mayonnaise
  • 1 cup of diced Spam
  • 2 tbsp diced red bell pepper (the one in the glass containers that has juice from the pepper)
  • Salt to taste

Boil potatoes with salt to taste until fork-tender, then drain and cool slightly. In a large bowl, mix mayonnaise, Spam, and bell peppers in their juice. Fold in potatoes, eggs, and apples gently until well-combined. Chill before serving.

Coquito (Nonalcoholic Puerto Rican Eggnog Drink)

  • 1 can (12 oz) evaporated milk
  • 1 can (14 oz) sweetened condensed milk
  • 1 can (15 oz) cream of coconut
  • 1 can of coconut milk
  • 1 tsp vanilla extract
  • ½ tsp cinnamon
  • Pinch of nutmeg
  • ½ tsp cloves
  • 3–4 star anise

Prepare a tea of star anise, cloves, and cinnamon. Once it’s ready, with a brownish color, let it chill. Blend all other ingredients until smooth.  Then add the tea to the blend. Chill for at least 2 hours before serving. Shake well and serve in small glasses. Garnish with cinnamon on top.

Arroz con Dulce (Sweet Rice)

Ingredients

  • 1 cup medium-grain rice (soaked overnight)
  • 1 can coconut milk
  • 1 can evaporated milk
  • 1 can sweetened condensed milk
  • 1 stick cinnamon, 4–6 cloves
  • ½ cup raisins (soaked in water 4 hours before)
  • Pinch salt, ground cinnamon to garnish
  • 3-4 star anise

Prepare the same tea from the coquito drink. While heating the coconut milk, evaporated milk, and condensed milk, strain the tea and add it to the mixture. When the mixture is boiling, add the rice and the pinch of salt over medium-low heat, stirring until the rice is tender and creamy (approximately 30 min). Then, add the raisins and cook in low heat for 10 minutes. Sprinkle with cinnamon and serve warm or chilled.

Holiday chicken-chasing | Shared by Carlos Aleman, bilingual student accounts coordinator.

Apparently, Irene [Oramas Sosa] and I eat the same meals during the holidays. I don’t cook much, so thank you for including some of the recipes here, Irene.  I do eat a bit of pernil, but not so much.  I do also eat arroz con gandules, ensalada de papa, arroz con dulce y coquito. The coquito is my favorite, for sure.

I remember my mother and eldest sister starting to get everything ready for cooking early in the morning. It was 5 a.m. and everyone took on a different task, so that by dinner time, everything was ready. 

I never took part in the cooking; I was too busy running around outside the house trying to catch one of our chickens.  We had a lot of chickens running around and a gallo, or rooster, as well. Some of my uncles knew how to play some instruments, including the cuatro, [the national instrument of Puerto Rico,] and we always gathered around them so they could play and entertain us with their awesome rhymes. I lived with both my parents and my two sisters.  My grandparents lived across the street.

Ceviche de Pescado Jipijapa (Ecuadorian Fish Ceviche, Jipijapa style) | Shared by Claudia Lovegrove, assistant professor for the Spanish BBA

A recipe for when I am feeling homesick.

It’s not unusual to find fish ceviche on the table during the weekend in any Ecuadorian household. Since I’m from Manta (a coastal city known for having some of the freshest fish in the country), it’s a must in our kitchen. Fresh, vibrant, and full of flavor, ceviche is perfect for sharing with family and friends.

Here’s how  we make it at home, where we like to add our own twist to everything. And yes, that usually includes peanuts.

The recipe:

Ingredients:

  • 1 pound of mahi-mahi, cut into small cubes
  • Juice of 10 to 12 limes
  • Salt to taste

Toppings:

  • 1 red onion, thinly sliced
  • 1 tomato in cubes
  • Avocado in cubes
  • A handful of chopped cilantro
  • Ketchup
  • Yellow mustard
  • Ground roasted peanuts or natural peanut butter for making it Jipijapa style
  • Chifles (thin green plantain chips)

Preparation:

  1. Place the mahi-mahi in a bowl with the lime juice and a pinch of salt. Let it marinate for at least an hour, until the fish turns opaque and firm. I usually cut the mahi-mahi in cubes while it is still frozen, that makes it easier. 
  2. Add the toppings. Mix gently and adjust salt to taste. When it comes to adding mustard and ketchup, I don’t really measure. I usually draw a smiley face with the yellow mustard and a circle with the ketchup right on top of the ceviche. That’s how I know I’ve added just the right amount. It might not be exact, but it always turns out delicious.
  3. There are many places in Manabí where, for a more traditional touch, people blend a bit of the ceviche juice with ground peanuts or natural peanut butter, then mix it back into the ceviche. This adds a creamy, savory flavor—just make sure the peanut butter contains only peanuts and no sugar, or it will make the ceviche taste sweet.

Chifles (green plantain chips)

Ingredients:

  • 2 green plantains
  • Oil for frying
  • Salt

Preparation:

  1. Peel the plantains and slice them very thinly using a sharp knife or mandoline.
  2. Heat the oil in a pan and fry the plantain slices in small batches until golden and crispy.
  3. Remove and drain on paper towels. Add salt while they’re still hot.

Chifles are the perfect crunchy companion to ceviche. Serve them on the side or crumble a few into the bowl if you like texture.

Pair your ceviche with an ice-cold Coca-Cola or a cold beer, whichever you prefer. It’s the kind of simple pleasure that makes weekends in Ecuador feel just right.

Pasteles | Shared by Maria Vega, bilingual student success coordinator.

If there’s one dish that captures the spirit of Puerto Rican Christmas, it’s pasteles. Along with music, dancing, and dominoes, pasteles are a holiday essential. They aren’t just food—they’re tradition, family, and culture wrapped in a banana leaf.

Making them is an event. Families and friends gather and everyone has a role: peeling guineos verdes (green bananas), grating yautía (taro), seasoning the pork, or tying up the pasteles with string. It’s time-consuming and messy, but it’s also a great time with family. At Christmas, New Year’s, and Día de Reyes, families make them in bulk, freezing extras to share whenever loved ones stop by. Each one is a gift of effort, patience, and pride.

Pasteles symbolize abundance and togetherness, reflecting the blend of Taíno, African, and Spanish influences that shape Puerto Rican food and identity. For me, sharing this recipe isn’t just about food. It’s about inviting you into the heart of Puerto Rican tradition, the joy of Christmas gatherings, and the pride we feel in passing down these recipes from generation to generation.

The recipe:

Ingredients

Masa (batter):

  • 5 lbs white taro root (yautía blanca) – peeled
  • 5 lbs Puerto Rican pumpkin or kabocha squash (calabaza) – peeled
  • 40 green bananas (guineos verdes) – peeled
  • 2 green plantains – peeled
  • 2 cups annatto-infused oil (aceite con achiote)
  • 5 cups pork broth (caldo de cerdo) – may not need all of it
  • Salt to taste

Pork filling:

  • 2–3 lbs pork shoulder (pernil) – cut into small cubes
  • ½ cup sofrito (onion, pepper, garlic, cilantro, culantro blend)
  • 1 cup tomato sauce
  • 6-8 white potatoes – cut into small cubes
  • 1 packet sazón with annatto
  • 1 tbsp oregano
  • 1 large onion – chopped
  • 1 green bell pepper – chopped
  • 3 cloves garlic – minced
  • ½ cup olives – sliced
  • 2 tbsp capers (alcaparras)
  • 2 tbsp olive oil
  • Salt and pepper to taste

Wrapping:

  • Banana leaves (hojas de guineo) – softened and cut into 12-by-12-inch squares or parchment paper
  • Kitchen string

Directions

  1. Make the pork filling:
    • Heat olive oil in a pot and sauté onion, pepper, garlic, and sofrito.
    • Add pork, sazón, oregano, salt, and pepper. Brown well.
    • Boil potatoes, add salt to taste.
    • Stir in tomato sauce, olives, potatoes, to meat. Cover and simmer until the pork is tender and sauce thickens.
  2. Prepare the masa:
    • Grate bananas, plantains, yautía, and calabaza with a grater or food processor.
    • Mix everything together in a large bowl until smooth.
    • Add achiote oil, pork broth, and salt. Adjust until the masa is moist but firm, like a heavy batter.
  3. Prepare the banana leaves:
    • Pass each leaf quickly over an open flame or hot skillet to soften.
    • Brush with achiote oil. Place each leaf on top of parchment or foil to make folding easier.
  4. Assemble pasteles:
    • Spread 2–3 tbsp of masa in the center of the leaf or parchment paper.
    • Add 1–2 tbsp of pork filling. Cover with another spoonful of masa.
    • Fold tightly into a rectangle and tie with string.
  5. Cook:
    • Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil.
    • Add pasteles in batches and boil for about 1 hour.
    • Drain and serve hot.

Pupusas Revueltas | Shared by Lyanne Garcia-Boswell, bilingual IT support specialist.

Here’s a recipe for pupusas revueltas! I, like many of my relatives, love to cook. I also don’t write recipes down, even though I should… So, I nabbed one from a Salvi [or Salvadoran] abuelita (grandmother) that looks really similar to what I do! They are a Salvadoran classic. Any time I leave my rural New York area, I’m instantly on the hunt for some pupusas. Mixtas, con loroco, con ayote, etc.

Pupusas are something I don’t think I’ve ever not known how to make. I remember being five or six years old in the kitchen with my aunts, and being made to assemble the masa, [the dough] and form the little balls to be stuffed (the “easy” technique to stuff). Eventually, I graduated to actually stuffing the balls of masa and forming the pupusas themselves.

It could be Christmas Eve, New Years, or any given Sunday, pupusas were being made in an assembly line to feed anyone who was around. They are also very easily adjustable for a variety of dietary needs—gluten free, vegetarian, dairy free, etc., so they tend to be a favorite of mine to serve when I’m hosting a large group!

The recipe:

Ingredients (makes 18 pupusas)

Curtido:

  • ½ head green cabbage, cored and shredded
  • 1 small white onion, sliced
  • 2 medium carrots, grated
  • 4 cups boiling water
  • 1 cup distilled white vinegar
  • 1 tablespoon dried oregano
  • 2 teaspoons kosher salt

Chicharrón:

  • 1 teaspoon vegetable oil
  • 1 lb boneless pork shoulder, cut into 1-inch (2-cm) cubes
  • 1 teaspoon salt
  • 1 medium tomato, diced
  • ½ green bell pepper, diced
  • 1 small white onion, diced

Pupusa Dough:

  • 4 cups masa harina (flour)
  • 2 teaspoons salt
  • 3 cups cold water

Filling:

  • 1 cup grated mozzarella cheese (not the pre-shredded kind)
  • 1 cup refried beans, cooked
  • 1 tablespoon vegetable oil, for frying

Preparation

  1. Make the curtido: In a large bowl, combine the cabbage, onion, and carrots. Pour the boiling water over the vegetables and toss. Let sit for 10 minutes, then drain.
  2. In a liquid measuring cup or small bowl, combine the vinegar, oregano, and salt. Pour over the slaw and toss to coat. Once thoroughly mixed, transfer the curtido and any leftover liquid in the bowl to an airtight jar or container.
  3. Chill for at least 20 minutes in the refrigerator, or chill overnight for best results.
  1. Make the chicharrón: Heat the vegetable oil in a large pan over medium-high heat. Add the pork shoulder and salt. Cook for 15 minutes without disturbing. If the pork is browning too quickly, reduce the heat to medium. Turn the pork over and let cook on the other side for 10 minutes more, or until crispy and golden brown.
  2. Transfer the pork to a food processor and add the tomato, green bell pepper, and onion. Pulse until a thick paste forms. The mixture should not be watery. Set aside.
  1. Make the pupusa dough: In a large bowl, whisk together the masa harina and salt, then add the water. Use your hands to mix until the dough comes together with a clay-like texture.
  2. Fill a small bowl with water and a bit of oil and set near your workstation. You’ll wet your fingers with the mixture as you work to keep the dough from sticking to your hands.
  3. Take a golf ball-sized portion of dough and roll into a ball, then flatten into an even round.
  4. Fill the dough round with ½ tablespoon chicharrón paste, 1 teaspoon refried beans, and 1 teaspoon mozzarella cheese. Fold the dough over the filling until it’s completely sealed. Then, pat out the ball between your hands until flat. If the pupusa cracks, patch it with a bit of dough and a little oil. Repeat with the remaining ingredients.
  5. Heat a large pan or griddle over medium heat. Brush with vegetable oil, then place 2-3 pupusas on the pan and cook for 2-4 minutes, or until the bottoms are golden brown. Flip and cook on the other side for 2-4 minutes more, until golden brown and warmed through. Repeat with the remaining pupusas.
  6. Serve the pupusas with curtido. Enjoy!

Pastelón de Carne | Shared by Stephanie Santos-Nieves, administrative assistant for the Office of Alumni Engagement.

Pastelón de plátano maduro always takes me back to my abuela’s kitchen. She doesn’t need a holiday to make it feel like one—pastelón is her signature dish, and for us, it’s always a celebration. Her version was layered like lasagna, sweet from ripe plantains. I usually add some cream cheese to enjoy its melted texture throughout the dish. Serve it with white rice, and enjoy every bite.

The recipe:

Ingredients

  • 6 ripe plantains (yellow, but firm)
  • 1 lb ground beef
  • 1 medium onion, chopped
  • 1 green or red bell pepper, chopped
  • 2 garlic cloves, crushed
  • 1 cup tomato sauce
  • 2 tbsp sofrito
  • 4 large eggs, beaten
  • 2 cups of shredded cheese (mozzarella, cheddar, and or any good melting cheese)
  • Vegetable oil for frying
  • Salt, pepper, and adobo to taste

Instructions

  1. Prepare the plantains: Peel the ripe plantains and slice them. Fry them in hot oil until golden, but not too crispy. Remove and place them on paper towels to absorb excess oil.
  2. Cook the meat filling: In a large skillet, sauté the onion, garlic, and bell pepper until tender. Add the ground beef and cook until browned. Stir in the tomato sauce and sofrito. Season with salt, pepper, and seasoning to taste. Cook over medium heat for about 10 minutes, or until the mixture is well cooked and thickened.

Tortilla Española (Spanish tortilla) | Shared by Melissa Fiori, digital accessibility instructional designer.

La tortilla española isn’t just any dish. It’s a connection to a time, to places, and to people that took me in and nurtured my bilingualism. The ingredients are so simple—potatoes, eggs, onions, olive oil, and salt, but the memories and sense of connection and comfort it offers feels bigger than that. From the versions my host family prepared in León, to the late-night bocadillos, or bites, de tortilla that I had in Madrid, to the version that I now make for my friends and family, the tortilla represents togetherness. It is a slice of Spain itself, a piece of home, and a reminder that the simplest things often carry the deepest meaning.

The recipe:

  • Blanch about 5-6 peeled potatoes in salted, boiling water (about 10 minutes).
  • While the potatoes are blanching, cook a small, chopped onion on low heat until clear (or caramelized, depending on your preference).
  • Cut the potatoes into chunks or slices and combine with the onions in a pot of olive oil.
  • Bring to a simmer, stirring off and on, until the potatoes are cooked through.
  • Remove from the olive oil and let cool.
  • Once cooled, add 2 beaten eggs and some salt to the potato and onion mixture.
  • In a round pan, put in the mixture and heat through, flipping once or twice to be sure the eggs cook through. Enjoy!

Pollo Guisado (Chicken Stew) | Shared by George Lopez, assistant director of Opportunity Programs.

I recently learned the term no sabo kid from one of my Latino students, and it stopped me in my tracks. The phrase refers to second- or third-generation Latinos who didn’t grow up speaking Spanish fluently. It comes from the incorrect “no sabo” instead of “no sé” (“I don’t know”), and while it’s often used playfully—or sometimes critically—it perfectly named something I’ve carried my whole life: the tension of being deeply Puerto Rican, yet unable to fully access my culture through language.

I remember visiting Puerto Rico at 14, surrounded by cousins, aunts, and uncles I couldn’t speak to. And yet, I was wrapped in this incredible embrace that made the connection undeniable. It was almost nonsensical how deeply I felt tied to them despite the barrier, and it gave me what I jokingly call a kind of delusional optimism—a belief that we can always find ways to build connection, even across seemingly impossible roadblocks.

Food became my bridge. In my adulthood I learned to make pollo guisado—Puerto Rican chicken stew—not just because it’s delicious, but because it carries the same hope. When I cook it, I’m transported back to my grandmother’s kitchen, her hands guiding mine even though she’s no longer here. Much of my family has passed on, but in the steam rising from the pot and the aroma filling my kitchen, they are present again. Every layer of sofrito, every slow simmer, is its own act of remembrance and connection.

It’s also sneakily healthy—balanced carbs, good fats, and protein. My millennial twist is using organic sofrito, sazón, adobo, and bone broth. I can almost hear my grandmother yelling at me for wasting money, but in my own way, it’s how I honor both tradition and my current values. More than feeding my body, though, this dish grounds me. The ritual of making it creates an anchor in a world where I’ve often had to navigate connection beyond words.

For me, pollo guisado isn’t just a stew—it’s history, identity, and resilience in a pot. It’s proof that love and memory can be shared one meal at a time, even when language falls short.

Ingredients

  • 2 lbs chicken thighs (skin removed)
  • Sazón, Adobo, salt, black pepper, onion, garlic, and cumin (until the spirits say so)
  • 1–2 tbsp olive oil (or preferred cooking oil)
  • 1 cup mirepoix mix (onion, carrot, celery – pre-cut is fine)
  • 1–2 cups fajita-style vegetable mix (pre-cut bell peppers and onions)
  • 1 tbsp crushed garlic
  • 2 tsp tomato paste (or adjust to taste)
  • 2 tbsp sofrito (homemade or store-bought)
  • 4 cups organic bone broth
  • 1 tsp Better Than Bouillon (chicken flavor)
  • 1–2 bay leaves
  • 2–3 medium sweet potatoes, or 2 cups butternut squash (peeled and cubed)