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That’s why it is my mom roasted the coffee in our kitchen. My son was
C

getting interested in the preparation of coffee. His entire
time he got the knowledge of the producer perspective;
important to me traditional Mexican taqueria run by a warm-hearted el- world. The people from that café were very kind people
the world of roasters and baristas was a completely new

and let my son go there from time to time and learn from
them everything he could. Everything was going so well
Across from my usual ice cream spot stood a quaint,
for us, but nothing lasts forever.
derly woman hailing from Mexico. She quickly became a
After years of joy, the pandemic hit, forcing closure
to see coffee devoted fan of my ice cream, blossoming into one of my due to lack of customers. We turned to taco-making,
barely scraping by. Faced with uncertainty, we ponder
most loyal customers and eventually, a cherished friend.
our next steps.
During one of our conversations, she confided her desire
to return to Mexico but lamented over the fate of her be-
As coffee harvest approached, labor shortages risked
loved taqueria. She feared its closure or sale to someone
crop losses. Drawing on our experience, my son and I
who wouldn’t uphold her cherished recipes.
Moved by her plight, I offered to purchase her joined the effort. We knew it was a very hard job to do,
but we needed the money. Despite the challenge, amidst
as more than diate funds. Instead, I proposed a gradual payment plan, guess what, we fell in love with the coffee again!
taqueria, albeit with the caveat that I lacked the imme-
lockdown, we found solace in nature’s embrace. And
To unwind after long days in the fields, I delved into
assuring her that I’d honor her recipes faithfully. To my
online cooking tutorials. As the harvest season conclud-
delight, she agreed. Under her guidance, I delved into the
ed, restrictions eased. With my son needing to prepare
intricate art of traditional Mexican taco-making, learning
everything from scratch, including the meticulous pro-
for university, we made the decision to return to Sweden.
a product, but cess of crafting tortillas from freshly boiled corn. Third Chapter, Time for Sprouts to Push
After a few months, she bid farewell and embarked
on her journey back to Mexico, leaving the taqueria in
Aside Soil Particles
my care. Now, with her legacy entrusted to me, I had a
bustling establishment to call my own.
Returning to Stockholm as my son commenced high
I didn’t abandon my ice cream venture; instead,
ture. Renowned for its high coffee consumption and mul-
I merged it with my newfound taqueria enterprise. school, we immersed ourselves in the city’s vibrant cul-
as an element named “Orale Tacos,” I offered both ice cream and au- lence in sports, cuisine, and coffee. This dedication fuels
Now, at the entrance of my own taqueria, proudly
ticulturalism, Stockholm thrives on passion and excel-
its global leadership in entrepreneurship and innovation,
thentic Mexican fare.
My son was a teenager already, and when I moved to
shaping its dynamic cultural landscape.
Viewing it as my chance to pursue my newfound
Filandia, he was finishing his high school. He used to vis-
it me from time to time, but at the beginning, he was not
passion, I resolved to embark on a career as a chef. I talk-
that generates so happy with the idea of his mom selling ice cream in ed to my mom and told her that I was dying to become a
chef. In Latin America, being a cook wasn’t considered
the street after having been working for such an import-
fancy or glamorous, and in some places, it was seen as
ant organization. But when he realized how happy I was
disrespectful. She wasn’t very happy with the idea, but
to be doing that, he supported me entirely. Once he fin-
she is an incredibly wise and loving woman who will nev-
ished his studies, he moved with me, he learned to pre-
pare the ice cream, and also learned about how to cook
that she was proud of me for being a lawyer and that she
and helped me in the taqueria. We were the dream team! er stop her kids from pursuing their dreams. She told me
change in the could smell the freshly roasted coffee that reminded me If I’m happy, she’s happy. With her blessing, I was ready
Plus, beside our taqueria, it was a small coffee roaster, we
always would be, but it was time to pursue my dream job.
of all the good days on the farm when I was a child and
to start my journey as a chef.
I commenced my culinary journey in hotel kitchens
and restaurants, starting with breakfast shifts and grad-
ually exploring various kitchen sections, from cold to
community. hot, eventually venturing into pastry. Initially a kitchen
assistant, I swiftly assumed chef responsibilities. Master-
ing each kitchen, I sought out more challenging environ-
ments, perpetually honing my craft.
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