The AfterMath of the Holidaze...

I'm gonna take a nap. For a month.

Newsletter Subscriber’s New Annual Holiday Thing!

Thanks so much to those who tagged me in their posts of their cookbooklets! It was so satisfying to see the little books find their way to their homes via a very unpredictable USPS. Annual Subscribers and Founding Members received a 20 page booklet filled with ten of my favorite newsletter recipes from 2023. That way you could have these recipes all in one place if you ever wanted to cook them.

Monthly subscribers received a little recipe card in the mail of Mami’s Christmas Balls. A recipe that is not on the newsletter. But, one of the only recipes Mami has been making all of my life that is an actual recipe with actual baking/cooking involved.

The cookbooklet will become an annual thing for annual subscribers. 2024 is “CaliRican Vol. 2”

I’m also going to make a tote bag. But, not just one of those tiny ass tote bags where you can’t fit shit in it or get your arm through the goddamn strap (I have fat ass arms). I didn’t think I was a tote bag person until I received one from Graza and it literally became my everyday bag. And yes, the tote bag will be Puerto Rican themed.

Someone asked me in my IG DMs, “Would you consider selling the booklet?” Nope! I want it to be something special (and the way I show love) just for my paid annual subscribers. These books will never be for resale. And they’ll never be reprinted.

How did you spend your Christmas? Let me know in the comments.

I always feel more depressed after the holidays are over.

This holiday season was a very self-imposed busy. Which is a drastic change from last year when I claimed to refuse to do any holiday cooking, order Chinese food and then gave in at the last minute and cooked anyway. This year, I decorated the house days after Thanksgiving, marinated the pernil days in advance, made mashed potatoes and gravy (I promise this is a huge deal) in addition to my usual Puerto Rican Christmas menu. The tomahawk ribeye I purchased back in March from Silva’s Ranch was pulled out of its Antarctic bassinet and the one critical (and first ever holiday) assignment given to someone else was to grill the tomahawk.

December 26th was reflection day and I just felt…sad. I felt that I had put in so much work and the outcome/result didn’t match the input? When you’re the host of…anything…you rarely get to see people’s reactions to your ceremonious celebration.

That was kind of the point of the tomahawk, to parade it through the house so that my closest friends could ooh and ahh over its behemoth size and glorious charred crusty edges. By the time I handed everyone their cocktail of choice, the food was ready. Guests started to pacefully (not peacefully) meander their way to and through the kitchen. The person assigned to the tomahawk - who thinks they’re into food more than they actually are (bless em’) - was cutting into the tomahawk in the corner of the kitchen. The only thing left to show was hohum slices of hohum cooked ribeye. And a large bone.

It’s my own fault. As I buzzed around the house frantically collecting energy like a wild bee building up pollen-dust on its bum, I didn’t give strict instructions to “parade the tomahawk.”

I fucked up the arroz con gandules. It was on the drier side and it had an off taste. When I asked Mami to taste it, she said, “it tastes like chili beans.” And then I knew it had too much cumin in it. I added too much of my own potent sazon blend.

The hosts rarely remembers to take photos. I didn’t take any photos. And no one in attendance bothered to take photos or post to social media. Why?

Because none of them are content creators. They’re my real world friends. They could honestly give a shit less about anything that’s going on in my professional life. Haha. They’ve never asked me, “Is there another book? What’s your favorite thing to cook? What’s your specialty?” They are not impressed. They’re my safe space. They keep me grounded. They keep it real. I know what I say will not (and does not) leave the room where it happens. They’re not looking forward to my eventual downfall. This is not a complaint…this is a note of gratitude. I’m so very grateful and thankful for them.

Buuuuuuttttttt…it would have been nice to be gushed over. Just a little. Which is just as shocking to you as it is to me. I am more likely to decline an interview if the request comes from a “fan person.” I have mentioned before that I find the gushing that comes from parasocial internet relationships to be very unsettling.

From what my mom tells me, if you’re doing it correctly, to be a mother is to sacrifice a part of yourself and sometimes feel invisible. Then why the fuck do I feel like a mother and I’m childless?!

I’m sure someone (everyone) will read this and think to themselves, “It sounds like she doesn’t know what she wants.” And you’d be right about that. I probably don’t. I don’t know what I want…emotionally.

Emotional intelligence is not something that generations before me have had a chance to figure out. Which means they didn’t have a chance to teach us. It’s not hard to figure out what I want when it comes to my professional life (money) because I’ve seen my white and mostly male counterparts receive their flowers (money) while having their carbon copies advocate for them (money).

What can I say? Sometimes I want what I want and it all depends on my mood. I’m unmedicated, people! I’m out here raw-doggin’ life without a single medication providing a hazy buffer between me and the insanity that lies outside of my door! My moods turn often and quickly. And that’s allowed. Especially when I got Bomba socks and a four pack of Martinelli’s apple juice for Christmas from my partner and Mami.

Every day I think about running away from those two.

I don’t really make New Year’s resolutions (“I want to lose 20 pounds”), but I do make New Year’s manifestations:

Professionally, 2023 was a relatively quiet year. I made a lot of moves in the fog. It’s kind of nice to work without having to fight for it. Salesforce and Sargento were such different experiences and somehow equally fulfilling. TBH - the Salesforce gig really caught me off guard. In a good way. I hope that I’m provided/invited to do more of those quiet gigs with similar companies: Google, PayPal, Meta, AirBnB.

I really want to step the quality of my videos up. I feel like I say this every year because I’m so bad at doing internet stuff. I had a dream, about my content, where the setup looked very different than it does now. And it seemed to make sense. But, it does require returning to Puerto Rico and spending a lengthy chunk of time there.

One of my 2023 goals didn’t happen and I’m gonna set it for 2024: I’d love to partner with the California State Parks (and Columbia) to show the true beauty of Northern California and why so much of it inspired (and inspires) me and showed up in my book. Kind of combining the day trips/driving with a brand.

More importantly, I want to spend a lot more time talking to people about translating my cookbook, Diasporican, into a teleseries. As much as I tried and reached out for help in 2023, it never seemed to go anywhere.