1692855028 A Mojarra ceviche for Oscar Miguel Angel who disappeared in

A Mojarra ceviche for Óscar Miguel Ángel who disappeared in 2020

The waiters approached people with samples of the dishes. They introduced her in a low voice, taking on the audience’s emotional burden, calm but aware, serene. “Ceviche for Óscar,” they murmured between their trays. There were blue corn tortilla chips lying on corn husks with spoonfuls of ceviche, little finger foods that served as food for the soul. One reason for the party: the food honored the memory of missing men and women. It was a way of remembering that the absent have always been more than that, the absent, the ones who are not there: they also ate, enjoyed, laughed.

“The ceviche was prepared by Ms. Ceci, who is from Irapuato,” said Daniela Rea, one of the authors of “Recipe for Memory,” an editorial experiment turning the pain of tens of thousands of families across Mexico into gastronomic hope and community bonds, love … Unique antidotes to tears. “Ceci did it for Óscar, who disappeared in 2020,” he added. On the pages of the recipe book we read that Óscar Miguel Ángel Flores disappeared in Irapuato on July 13, 2020, that he drove an Uber, that he liked painting and mechanics… And of course Mojarra ceviche.

Rea, Zahara Gómez and Clarisa Moura are responsible for the Guanajuato Edition of The Recipe Book for Memory. Previously, Gómez had worked alongside the families of missing persons from Sinaloa. This Tuesday, the three teamed up with La Tía de las Muchachas, a restaurant in Morelos, to bring the Guanajuato recipe book to life by preparing the recipes that mostly mothers, aunts and sisters prepared for their missing relatives , transform into recipes a little memorial party. Let your loved ones eat, prepare their favorite dishes and share them with whoever you want.

Mexico, a country with more than 100,000 disappeared people, has these things too. It seizes the wildest pain, talks to it, shapes and twists it, like corn dough, crushes it. It is healthy. “One thing about the project,” Rea said, “is that remembering isn’t just painful. The kitchen has this alchemy, and somehow cooking the favorite recipes of the Disappeared reaches them and feeds them,” he mused. “Salpicón for Eliot,” then subtly said a waiter approaching the corner where the author was speaking. It was strange, unsettling and of infinite joy to see so many people gathered on the terrace of the España Cultural Center in Mexico City on a rainy August afternoon, determined to remember.

recipe dishes.Dishes from the recipe book.Sofia Valls (Courtesy)

The recipes in the book aren’t great recipes, nothing avant-garde or innovative, it’s not even about the food. Rather, it is the practice of cooking together and looking directly at the pain. In fact, the day started early, hours before the meal was shared. Rea, Gómez, Moura and those in charge of El Tío de la Muchacha organized a workshop to cook the dishes. They chose four recipes from the dozens that appear in the compendium: the mojarra ceviche, the salpicón, the garlic mushrooms for Jonathan, and the apple salad for José Luis and Antonio.

A dozen people came to the workshop. The idea was to share the preparation of the dishes with the relatives of the disappeared. One of the workshop participants was the Oaxacan actress Mónica del Carmen, who is remembered in Mexico for her appearances in films such as Nuevo Orden and A Police Film during those years. “Food is something very complex, it has an emotional memory,” she said, while she was busy with the final preparations before eating, still wearing her latex gloves. “When you prepare food to commemorate someone, you integrate with their need. Coming here means getting closer to his stories,” he added.

Del Carmen also recalled that while the recipe book was being drafted, family members asked themselves similar questions about whether the kidnappers would treat their family well and whether they would feed them. Even if they prepared their prescriptions… “It’s very painful,” he said. Beside her was anthropologist Diana Ríos, part of the Mexican forensic anthropology team. Accustomed to death and finding clues in things that are no longer alive, Ríos marveled at “wearing latex gloves for life, for love, and not for death.” Ríos said the book “enables us as a society to open up and connect to life.”

In addition to the workshop leaders, the authors of the recipe book and those responsible for “Girl’s Aunt”, the mother and aunt of two boys who had disappeared in Guanajuato over the years were also present. Cecilia Aguirre, mother of Óscar Flores, took over the microphone while the waiters finished handing out the apple salad. “I want each of you to one day be able to make these recipes,” he said. “If the authorities have forgotten us, may the recipes serve to give life to our children’s hearts.”

Yhoa García then took over the microphone. His nephew Jonathan García disappeared in Celaya in October 2019. He was 19 when it happened. “City cops picked him up,” she recalled, aware of the seriousness of what she had just said and aware of the implications. García helped workshop participants prepare mushrooms in garlic sauce, which, like the other dishes, were divided into small bites. “These recipes are a reminder of our life together,” he said.

Process of preparing the dishes.Process of preparing the dishes. Sofia Valls (courtesy)

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