It was summer in Havana

1st Edition

And my grandma Irene was ready to make something special. She had a clear glass soup plate in one hand and a fork in the other. Inside the plate a yellowish gooey substance.

Me: Abuela, what are you doing?

Grandma: I am making clouds. Come, sit and watch

Her skinny arms starting moving faster than I though it was possible for an old lady like her. And suddenly the yellowish substance starts turning into a beautiful cloud of fluffy meringue. Little did she know that, that day she sparked a curiosity about food that’s very much alive until today. 

Now what?

It’s been over 30 years and I’m no longer a kid, neither do I live in Havana. On the other hand, I did become a baker and pasty chef and here are some of the things I have learned since that fortuitous summer day in the county I was born.
It was summer in Havana