Iris Brown

Good afternoon, my name is Iris Brown, and I have a short story to tell. A little story, a little tale, however you wish to call it.

This here is called a “fiambrera”(lunch box), and the “fiambreras” were super important for Puerto Rico in the past, because they were used to carry lunch for those who worked in the sugar cane fields, or in the countryside. This one in particular has three, it divides into three compartments.

We start by opening the first one which can be a bit difficult, because they are normally on a table, however this is how they are. This one here is made of aluminum, but they were also made using white porcelain. Here on this bottom section was where the rice was placed, followed by beans, and in another it was mainly stewed codfish, or perhaps eggplant, it could be fried eggs, could be fried bananas, but not really meat because there was not much of it.

Using this, my grandmother, who cooked, and whom I am going to present to you here: Monserrate Rivera Calderon.

My grandmother did not know how to read or write, however she was an extremely wise woman — and she had her own business

Her business was cooking for the people who would cut sugar cane nearby, very nearby.

Therefore, I ask myself: “Was my grandmother as illiterate as people wanted to think she was?”

I mean she must have had to know math in order to know how much of a portion of rice,  — and she also would have needed to know and keep track of who ate on Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Fridays, even until Saturdays along with how much money when she was being paid. She had to know if she was getting the right amount or not.

Therefore, my grandmother was wiser than what most people were able to tell.

Back to the lunches — there was a man who I remember was named Vicente — and Vicente would come around 11:30 am, and he would pick up the lunches. It could be up to thirty lunches, and these lunches were placed in a wooden crate, and he would place this crate upon his head

And myself being very annoying, every time I would see him I would start chanting: “Vicente, culo caliente(hot cheeks) — Cover the pot — people are coming” and my grandmother would be making faces at me, gestures, saying she was going to get me when he left because i was being disrespectful towards Vicente, but Vicente would just laugh at this — therefore everyday he came by I would sing this song.

Here is my other heroine. And she is my mother. Her name is Wencesla Hernandez Rivera — She was my grandmother’s eldest daughter and due to the economic hardships, she was the one who would help my grandmother in the kitchen. My other two aunts never had to work outside their home — my mother had to work from home, but eventually ended up working for a factory. However, she learned to make many things from my grandmother.

And many times when she made something, it was done to provide for us, for we were a family of ten.

Why am I sharing this little story with you? Well, it is because those who know me know that I have a passion, and that passion is for cooking. I am not claiming to be an expert because I am not, but I love to throw down and cook these Puerto Rican meals — I love putting in spices, abstaining from adding any chemicals. And as you can see in this garden and the next — I am always planting herbs, culinary herbs, and medicinal herbs which I can cut and add to the dishes —  and every time I do — for me — it is a great responsibility toward these two women, and whenever I am cooking, the aroma of the food must match theirs, just by the aroma alone I can tell if the food is going to come out, how I am expecting it be — because I always want my flavors to be just like theirs — especially theirs — for their cooking had such an indistinguishable taste which I still have embedded in me.

When I am turning the rice, when selecting plantains — many people want to go to the market for me — but I make a big effort in order to go — I like going to the market — it is the same plantain but it is part of this trajectory of mine, this passion, the love I have towards our typical dishes.

And I make them with much love, I aim to make it with much dignity and with much pride — why deny it?

And that is why here in Colobo we have “El Fogon”(cooking fire pit), which we use quite often.