Revolution Pero Make it Delicious
Food Politics and Goya Recipe Replacements
I clank my final “per my last email” for the day and close my laptop. The long work day melts like the summer sun and I’m finally free from work. Maybe I should have bought those stupid blue-light glasses. I rub my squinted eyes and think that I’ll likely get a few texts throughout the night asking for small items, but at least the hours glaring at a screen, back hunched over the keys are done.
Eyes open, I grab my phone and with a quick flip am scrolling through Instagram. What do we have here? Another yet again deplorable and heart wrenching stat from Robert Reich, of course. PPP loans dished out to 400 country clubs, private jet companies, Kanye West, and Kushner’s friends, but NOT 90% of small businesses owned by BIPOC and women — sounds about right. Am I surprised by any of this? No. Disappointed? Absolutely. As Reich says, “crony capitalism at its worst.” Scroll, scroll, scroll.
Okay phone down, no more mindless social media. I wonder if there is anything new on Netflix. I watched that Walter Mercado documentary yesterday and sent my family stupid Whatsapp messages about it. We laughed and sang his praises, “Every Puerto Rican household lived by his horoscopes, girl” and “Yep that’s him. He’s responsible for cocotazos.” Breath bated, we’d wait for Walter to bestow his beauty and wisdom during his readings; always signing off “con mucho mucho mucho amor,” Walter made us feel secure knowing he was there, that our family was there, that our community was there. The documentary highlights how my family is not unique in this experience, but it’s national. His presence continues to intoxicate and cannot be denied.
No, no television. Twitter, that’s news, not social media. I tell myself the necessary lie. Scroll, tap, scroll. Goya, one of the largest hispanic-owned food companies, is trending on Twitter I see. My fingers can’t move fast enough, fumbling to find the dirt — I mean, news. Oh. Well this is not what I expected. Instead of some spicy ad for a delicious new seasoning, the CEO of Goya made an appearance at a White House press conference turned CEOs-plugging-their-brands where he said we are “blessed to have a leader” like Trump. The comments are on fire with everyone calling for the boycott of Goya products.
I lay my phone down on my lap, my eyes finally off of a screen. “Blessed.”
Am I surprised by any of this? No. Disappointed? Absolutely. My heart feels heavy in my chest and I close my eyes thinking of the children in literal cages at our borders. What will they think when they hear this? This utter betrayal of community in lust of profits? Food has always been political, and the strategies haven’t really changed.
From the early days of settler genocide (think Thanksgiving) to this present-day tontería, food and politics have always been entwined. Countries fought literal wars over spices, trading coasts, and land to develop and cultivate food. Hell, my mother’s native island of Vieques witnessed the destruction of their sugar cane farms for the introduction of the U.S. Navy bombing sites and munition storage. Imperialism and colonialism brought the vantage point that a specific culture or cuisine is superior and more refined than another. The same individuals who sought to control and reap the benefits of native resources were the ones proclaiming their culture, food, and art to be superior. Superior? I’d put money on an indigenous abuela making molé over the “finest” Michelin-rated French saucier any day of the week. The food world seems to be stuck in the mindset that European techniques and standards represent all food — but they don’t.
Nowadays the relationship between food and politics is even more obvious. Case in point: this Goya situation. When a Hispanic CEO, the face of mega corporation, gets up in front of the world to tout his political support for someone actively oppressing his customer base, the connection is clear. It’s sickening, yet I see it for exactly what it is: profit over people. What puzzles me is this CEO thinking he can utter such trash without repercussions. Does he think we don’t know how to wage war against crony capitalism? Because we do.
I turn to the Whatsapp group named “La Familia” and prepare the troops. Time to get the tías and primas on the side of the resistance. “Familia, we gotta stop buying Goya products. The CEO today said we are ‘blessed’ to have a leader like Trump. We gotta hit them where it hurts 💸💸💸.” It’s on. Viva la revolución.
With the battle in motion, my heart still feels weighted. I still need to figure out how to survive without these products that have long been a staple in my pantry. Sofrito won’t be an issue: my mother and her family have always made their sofrito from scratch, likely going back many generations. But the sazón. How the hell am I going to do this? It’s time to branch out. Time to go back to my roots. Time to call my mom and ask for the recipe.
My mother gives me a general sense of the spices and I work on measurements to find the right combination. The tips of my fingers are stained red from the annatto powder and I rub them together to try to dull the saturation; instead my skin soaks it deeper.
I know there are many people still buying Goya products, seasoning their arroz con gandules with that magical orange packet of sazón, and to those people I have a plea: Please know that you are worth more and that you are more valued than these pendejos show you. Show your worth by standing with your community and boycotting Goya. I say this con mucho mucho mucho amor.
Don’t have an abuela or tía to call for guidance? Let prima Marie take care of you: Sofrito Recipe and Sazón Recipe. Pruebalo y dime como te gusta — you’ll see. Revolution pero make it delicious.
