The various foods Emoni makes, and the process of cooking, represent connection. When Emoni is only three or four, she takes over stirring a pot of food from ’Buela, and her seasoning choices lead ‘Buela to cry—the food makes her remember her childhood and young adulthood in Puerto Rico. This teaches Emoni that food is about more than feeding people; food spiced just right has the power to connect people to the past, to different locales, and to other people.
In the present, Emoni and her Aunt Sarah’s relationship highlights the power food has to bring people together across a great distance. Though Emoni and Aunt Sarah have never met in person (Aunt Sarah lives in Raleigh), the two regularly exchange family recipes via email and stay connected to each other that way. As Emoni remixes family recipes and sends her altered recipes back to Aunt Sarah, she honors her family’s culinary history while also carving out a place for herself within the family. Julio also reinforces this symbolism when he reveals that he never eats Emoni’s cooking when he visits Philadelphia because it brings up painful memories of Emoni’s mom—it connects him to the past and to his deceased wife, but it’s too painful for him to purposefully feel that connection. More broadly, though, while she’s in Spain, Emoni discovers that her cooking has the power to connect her to people who speak a totally different language and who otherwise have no connection to her or her family. A restaurant patron, Don Alberto, tells Emoni that the chicken special she developed for Chef Amadí’s restaurant brought up childhood memories of his aunt. Though Emoni has always been aware that food is about more than just feeding people, the reactions she elicits from friends, family, and even strangers with her cooking highlights food’s power to bring people together.
Food and Cooking Quotes in With the Fire on High
All I know is she cried into her plate that night. And so at the age of four, I learned someone could cry from a happy memory.
Ever since then ’Buela is convinced I have magical hands when it comes to cooking. And I don’t know if I really have something special, or if her telling me I got something special has brainwashed me into believing it, but I do know I’m happier in the kitchen than anywhere else in the world. It’s the one place I let go and only need to focus on the basics: taste, smell, texture, fusion, beauty.
I let go of a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. I don’t know much about pathogens and storing sugar, but damn if I don’t know how to cook good food that makes people hungry for more, that makes people remember food is meant to feed more than an empty belly. It’s also meant to nourish your heart. And that’s one thing you won’t ever learn from no textbook.
He clears his throat and it seems almost like a memory has him choked up. “This is delicious, but I want to make sure you follow the ingredients list. If you work under a chef and they give you clear directions, it’s disrespectful to try and modify their recipe without first consulting them. Whether or not you think the flavors will work.”
“It’s not the recipe I gave you. It doesn’t have the same ingredients, and the cut on these is wrong.”
“It tastes good, it’s well-balanced like you tell us to do, and the presentation is flawless,” I say through my teeth.
He grabs a fork, stabs the dish, and pops it in his mouth. He’s quiet for a long moment. And I can tell he loves it. He shakes his head. “Cumin, basil, oregano.” His eyes pop open. “None of those ingredients were in the recipe. This isn’t the same dish at all. I can’t grade something that is more about creativity than execution. That wasn’t the point of today’s evaluation. So I won’t say it again: trash it.”
Chef Ayden isn’t angry with me. Chef Ayden thinks I could own or be head chef of a restaurant one day. Chef Ayden wants me to lead a fund-raising committee.
I’ve seen chefs on TV time and time again say they had to pay their dues. And I never knew exactly what that meant but now I think I get it. It’s about doing the grunt work behind the scenes, washing dishes, folding napkins, taking stock, before you ever touch a recipe. It’s about being the creative mind behind raising a shit-ton of money so you can go on a trip abroad.
Chili aioli would make this bomb. A sweet and savory bite. I almost walk to the spice cabinet, then stop myself.
That’s not the recipe.
“Can I tell you the oddest thing about your hen? I’ve been having a bad day. Everything was going wrong, including my stove not wanting to turn on, which is why I came out for dinner, on a Monday of all days! But from the first bite of your food…it reminded me of my favorite aunt. Sitting at her knee when she told me stories and shucked peas.” His voice gets rough at the end and I give his hand a small squeeze.
I didn’t think I would be accepted into Drexel. My grade point average was a little below what they say a student needs, so I’m still shocked. Unlike the guidance counselor in middle school, Ms. Fuentes pushed me to apply even though it was a reach school. It’s close to home. It’s a great school. And it has a culinary arts program that focuses not only on cooking, but also on restaurant management.
But I don’t know how I’ll help pay bills if I’m also paying for school.
“Your grandmother says your food reminds her of Puerto Rico. But for me? Your food doesn’t make me think of back home, it makes me think of the home I had here. Every single one of your dishes makes me think of your mother. It kills me to see memories of her face every time I take a bite of something you made. It kills me to be here in Philadelphia, and every street corner reminds me of her. I always think with time it will get easier. But it hasn’t.”
Although my food still doesn’t give me any memories, it has always been looking back; it’s infused with the people I come from. But it’s also a way for me to look forward: to watch the recipes that from my roots transform, grow, and feed the hungriest places inside of me.
“I understand. And although I’ll be attending Drexel’s Culinary Arts program on a part-time basis, it’s not too far from here, so I can go to classes in the morning and be here by the lunchtime rush. My family is helping me out to make sure. I can commit to the long hours.” I give her a soft shrug. “I want to stay in Philly and work in Philly and learn from a restaurant in Philly. Because I think I have a lot to offer my hometown and the places I’m from.”