One time a person asked me, “Why are you going to make us arroz con pollo? Um, isn’t that just rice and chicken?”
Of course this person was white.
I remember feeling my body tighten, the blood starting to rush to my head, my hands turning to tight little fists. My ancestors yelling in my ears “quien es esta pandejo?”
And I think my ancestors would be proud to then proceed to watch me freak the f*ck out.
What do you mean it’s just rice and chicken? Do you have any idea what this dish means to me? How I leapt with joy whenever I heard we were eating it for dinner that night? All of the family reunions, births, deaths, holidays - always a staple on the dinner table? How my people have eaten this dish for hundreds of years? How my ancestors survived off of this? We gather around arroz con pollo. Have you ever even HAD arroz con pollo? Do you not understand how actually delicious it is, you f*cking gringo?
And no, I don’t think I’m overreacting.
I’ve been thinking about these microagressions in the food world these days.
Let’s just say this. If I were Italian and told you I was going to make my family’s cacio e pepe dish for dinner. I don’t think you would say “um, isn’t that JUST cheese and pasta?” No, you would probably literally squeal with excitement. Not to mention pay $26 this in a restaurant (and hey, I would too!)
There is a sexiness about some select “exotic” foods, usually those from Europe, that is celebrated in the U.S. But this is not the case for all “exotic foods” - especially those from the Caribbean.
I obviously have a very personal connection to Puerto Rican food, but if you don’t, you may see it as very meat-heavy, very rice-heavy, and very fried. Not very sexy according to American standards.
But there is so much history and culture behind this cuisine that is still worth our respect and curiosity. My friend Von Diaz explains this notion perfectly when writing about Puerto Rican food in this New York Times Article:
The cuisine is a culinary mejunje, or mix, of Indigenous, African, Spanish, and American ingredients and techniques….They are stories of creativity and tradition, blending colonial ingredients with ancestral cooking techniques… These dishes celebrate the contributions of the tens of thousands of Africans taken to the island in bondage, who introduced processes like deep frying, among many other things, and who are credited with culivating rice, the cornerstone of the Puerto Rican diet to this day.
What I want to suggest here is that, instead of holding European foods and cooking techniques as the highest standards, we look to the cuisines of islands, of places that have struggled, to gain inspiration from how they managed to make things taste so good against all odds. This is old, deep knowledge, and we can all learn from it, regardless of background, and find ways to integrate this way of thinking into the way we cook.
That’s RIGHT!
So please don’t be that pandejo whose response to hearing about a food that you don’t understand is to ask why would you eat that. There is always so much more to food than meets the eye.
Some steps I suggest:
Assume it is special.
Be curious. Ask about the history, the personal connection, the ingredients in the dish.
Actually try the food.
Be grateful someone cooked a special family meal for you and even took time to tell you about it.
As a Washington, D.C. born, mixed race, Indian-passing woman who grew up in predominantly white spaces…. it would be “easy” for me to shy away from my Puerto Rican heritage. I’m very good at shape-shifting to different environments, and many would be happy to accept me as simply an exotic-looking brown woman. But more recently, I’ve started the journey of leaning into my Puerto Rican heritage. And what better way to both learn and express that then through food?
We always had Puerto Rican food on special occasions (I do know my Grandma insisted on teaching my white mom how to make all of the Puerto Rican classics), but it’s been really cool to learn more about the deeper history behind these dishes. I feel like I’m learning more about myself. Getting to know all parts of myself beyond the brown skin.
I spent last week going through old black&white photos with my dad of my Puerto Rican family in both the Bronx and on the island. And there was so much joy, so much laughter, so much food, so much melanin in these photos. I got to ask him questions about who was this and what was this. He shared hilarious stories (remind me to tell that time about how my great uncle dressed in drag at the airport when fleeing to Venezuela in order to escape his gambling collectors). It was really beautiful.
I called my Titi (aka auntie) today to review this recipe with her. In response to the story about the guy who said “isn’t it just rice and chicken?” she said “Damn right it’s rice and chicken!” Pride swelling in her voice. Damn right, indeed.
And this of course - this is the Sobremesa. These juicy memories that form through food and drink. I'm learning of past memories and I’m also forming new ones by interacting with the past. We can learn so much about ourselves through food.
Yes, this dish is simple, but aren’t some of the best dishes simple?
This recipe is my family’s recipe - but everyone all over the Caribbean has their own style. As passed down family recipes are - this recipe was a bit difficult to write out in exact measurements. It’s just a feeling you get when there is enough Sazón or how the rice bubbles when it’s finished. I’ll do my best, but I urge you to trust yourself, and let the flavors / smells take you on a journey. You got this!
Arroz con Pollo
serves 4-6
Ingredients
4 to 6 chicken thighs, + a few drumsticks with bones
Salt & pepper
Dried oregano
Garlic powder
1 Sazón packet
1 yellow onion, chopped
1 pepper, diced
3 garlic cloves, minced
1 15 oz can of diced tomatoes
2 cups white rice
4 cups chicken broth (or water, but chicken broth is more flavorful!)
Vamos!
Season your chicken with salt, pepper, oregano, and Sázon.
Brown the chicken in a large pot with olive oil. You don’t need to cook the chicken all the way through, but just enough so it’s not bloody anymore (it will cook more later).
Remove the chicken from the pot and set aside.
Add the chopped onion and red pepper to the pot and sauté until soft.
Add the garlic and sauté until fragrant.
Add the diced tomatoes.
Add the rice and broth (or water) and bring heat up to high.
Bring the rice to boil and when the water has mostly evaporated but not completely evaporated (you’ll see little air tunnels start to form in the rice), then take a large spoon to flip the rice around on itself in the pot.
Add the chicken back on top of the rice.
Cover the pot with a tight sealing lid (if your lid is not tight enough, add aluminum foil over the pot and then cover with the lid).
Cook on low for about 30 minutes so that rice and chicken steam and cook further and get all of that good good flavor.
It’s finished when all of the water has evaporated. The rice should be a bit wet still. If you taste it and the rice is still hard, just add some water and put the lid back on.
Pile high on your plate, and enjoy.
Oh and the crusty rice left on the bottom of the pot? That’s called pegao, and that’s gold. That was always reserved for dad ; )
And I leave you with this poem:
Love you mucho.
Tessa
This post hits close to my heart...i remember your grandmother making this ( and so many wonderful dishes)... i learned it from my grea grandma when she lived with us, learned my mom's tweaking and your grandma's recipe... so mine is a mejunje of recipes and memories. I do not eat it... ( that's a long story about my diet ), but i can guarantee my food is devine !! And this is a dish we all mastered, even the guys in my family who all learned to cook, im proud to say. Thank you for the memories and the beautiful family photos. And there are a lot of pendejos in the world !!!
It feeds the soul! - it is not limited to just Puerto Rican souls! After 37 years with Tessa's father, I am Puerto Rican by proxy! I feel I have earned the planted Puerto Rican seed and have cooked accordingly! Keep it alive Little Girl, and keep handing it down!
xoxo, mom