Pepian

     As you may know, while we were adopting Olivia, I moved to Antigua and rented a house where we lived together for six months. But before that, she spent a year with a foster family, the Garzas, from Guatemala City. Lupe Garza was a fantastic cook, and often shared with us Guatemalan specialties–tamales around Christmas, her famous black beans, and the dish most associated with Guatemala, pepian. I loved pepian so much that Lupe insisted on teaching me how to make it. We set a date and the entire Garza family arrived at our small house in Antigua mid-morning–Lupe and Francisco, the kids and their significant others; this was a big crowd–carrying bags of rice and peppers and onions and chiles, a large sack of pumpkin seeds, and two freshly plucked whole chickens.
     After we said our hellos, the men and boys turned on the TV in the living room to watch a sporting event, while the women and girls commandeered the kitchen. On an old videotape in a closet somewhere I have footage of Lupe carrying Olivia in a sling across her back, wielding a wooden spoon to saute the onions and roast the pumpkin seeds as she explained to the camera in Spanish the steps for creating the dish. Beside her, Olivia’s foster sisters and the brothers’ girlfriends chopped and sliced and minced and pummeled. They laughed and spoke fast, again in Spanish, words I couldn’t understand.
     I hadn’t thought about this particular day for years–although since then I’ve eaten pepian many times–until I saw this recipe by Antigua photographer/blogger Rudy Giron. As I read through it, the entire memory came back. The morning that became afternoon that became evening. The sharp smell of chiles, and garlic, and oregano. The sizzling of the browning chicken. The scent of pumpkin seeds, toasted. The way Lupe tied Olivia into the sling and carried her across her back. Olivia’s foster brother running out at the last minute to buy tortillas from the seller in front of Pollo Campeo. The Garzas seated at my table eating pepian. Olivia sitting on her foster sister’s lap. Everybody hugging at the front door. Olivia waving bye-bye, with a backwards wave, the way Lupe Garza taught her. ~

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