The Arepa That Became My Compass

Cooking keeps me in the present. No yesterday, no tomorrow, just now. But I didn’t plan on this life. I studied literature and thought I’d be a teacher. I liked books, words, and stories.

The kitchen wasn’t supposed to be part of the plan. But life doesn’t care about plans. I moved to Spain when I was 14, not because I wanted to, but because I had to. I swallowed the change and adjusted it until the day I ate a fried egg. In Venezuela, eggs are fried in corn oil. In Spain, it was olive oil. One bite, and I lost it. I wasn’t crying over an egg. I was mourning everything that had changed. It was my first lesson in how food isn’t just food.

Years later, I ended up in Switzerland after a breakup in Madrid. I didn’t know what I was looking for, but I needed something. My aunt had a small business selling frozen Venezuelan pasapalos. I started helping her. Eventually, I bought the project, and it is now @santaarepastreetfood

I was drinking too much, partying too much, drifting. Santa Arepa forced me to focus. It gave me structure. It gave me a way to connect to Venezuela again, a culture I’d been pulled away from too soon. The arepa wasn’t just a meal but a bridge to something I thought I’d lost.

I’ve been doing this for ten years now. I’m not the same person I was when I started. The kitchen changed me. I was never responsible or disciplined. Teachers told me I lacked consistency. Turns out they were wrong. You don’t last a decade in this industry without showing up and doing the work.

I worked without bosses or a toxic culture for most of those years. I never wanted the abuse often found in kitchens. The most important part of a kitchen is the people, not the ego at the top. This industry needs to change. Kitchens need to be places where people grow, not break. Diners should reconsider their treatment of restaurants. Online reviews can be harmful when critics lack understanding. It’s not just a plate of food. Customers pay for the overall experience, labor, risk, and time.

I spent nearly a decade running Santa Arepa as a street food business.  And now, suddenly, a restaurant. I don’t know what’s next. I know I’ll keep cooking. One arepa at a time.