Discovering the fruits and vegetables from our homelands

Jicama, passion fruit, soursop, cassava and papaya – these are just a small representation of the vast world of fruits and vegetables that are favorites within Hispanic cuisine. “When I was child, my treat was jicama with salt, lemon and a lot of chile,” said Carmen Salas, a native of Merida, Mexico , who is in charge of the fruit and vegetable section of a market in East Tulsa, Oklahoma. “It is the Mexican turnip and it can be eaten raw, roasted or fried.”

Salas describes the taste as sweet. “If you want to lose weight, the best thing is jicama juice.”

Alexandra Cepeda, who is Colombian, says passion fruit is the “queen of fruits.” The taste “is between acid and sweet,” she said while shopping in South Tulsa in a market carrying Latin American products. “There is nothing better for desserts than a touch of passion fruit. “

Although the fruit is of South American origin, Cepeda said the best ones are found in the Asian markets. “They have the best selection. They have them in several colors, but I only eat the yellow ones.”

While the exterior of the soursop does not make it look appetizing, that thorn-like covering  hides sweet flesh inside. “In my town they call it zapote de viejas,” said Cesar Perez, a native of the state of Michoacán , Mexico , who was in a market in East Tulsa . “The tree has a very bad smell, but the fruit is very tasty.”

Cassava, which is loaded with carbohydrates, gives rise to the popular tapioca and other types of flour. Manuel González, a native of Zacatecas, Mexico , says the best way to eat it is “fried and with grilled meat.” González, who was choosing some vegetables in an East-side market, said: “I had never eaten it until a Dominican friend invited me to a barbecue. But I don’t like it boiled; it has to be fried.”

Papaya comes from Central America . “It is sweet, but I like when it is green,” said José Duarte, who is from the Mexican state of Guerrero and who said he wraps papaya in newspaper to let  them ripen. “My mother made a candy, and she also used the seeds, which were like pepper.”

A chef chimes in

Kimo Orozco, the head chef of a downtown hotel in Tulsa and who is originally from the Philippines, said fruits and vegetables from the Hispanic kitchen “have the ability to change an entire dish, as if by magic,” He said many people think that the mango, pineapple or banana “are the only Hispanic fruits, and that tomatillo is the only vegetable that Hispanics eat. They are wrong. We can spend all day talking about the great variety that exists in Latin America .”

Arepas, pupusas and gorditas: same food, different nationality

Are arepas, pupusas and gorditas the same thing? It could be a fair question. The answer: Yes and no. Both are valid responses because while all three share a key ingredient – corn – the appearance and taste of each is very different.

Arepa: the bread of Venezuelans

Such is the meaning of the arepa, a kind of round bread made of corn, that Venezuela’s national library each year organizes an exhibition dedicated to the queen of food accompaniment in this Caribbean nation.

To talk about the arepa is to talk about Venezuela, since it is part of the culture and the daily meal. It is considered the most authentic Venezuelan culinary expression.

For Venezuelans, the arepa is a national symbol as it can be found in any city.

Its preparation hails back to indigenous ancestors who planted, harvested and processed corn.

It is made with dough fashioned from corn that is cooked and ground. The natives ground the corn between two flat and smooth stones and then they shaped small balls that were cooked on a budare or comal, a round, flat sheet made of clay. Now steel griddles are used to cook the arepas, although one can still find the clay versions.

The arepa can be found in the most honorable table, as well as in the most humble, on any corner of the city or in the smallest town, in homes or in restaurants, or in the plentiful areperas found in Venezuelan cities.

For some it is the best breakfast, and an excellent complement to the first course at lunch and dinner.

It has different characteristics in different regions, but in essence it is the same and unique arepa. The thinnest ones are called “telitas” and are typical of the Andean region. Thicker and rounder ones are made in the central region. Large ones, either fried or baked, are usually found in the East. Arepas are prepared with chicharrón (fried pork skin); sweet arepitas have a slight aniseed flavor; and arepas “peladas” (scraped), made with ash, are found mainly in the west of the country.

They are usually eaten filled with cheese and butter, shredded or roasted meat, with ham, or with just about anything you can think of – or find.

A freshly cooked arepa, filled with a salty cheese, is heavenly for the palate of the diner. Served with buttermilk and shredded meat, one gets a wonderfully typical breakfast.

Pupusas: symbol of El Salvador

The gastronomic importance of pupusas, which are thick corn tortillas stuffed with many ingredients, is so serious that since April 1, 2005, by official decree of the government of El Salvador, pupusas are the national dish, and for this reason the second Sunday of November was declared as the National Day of the Pupusas.

The ingredients for the filling usually include queso fresco, chicharrón and beans.

Pupusas have become ambassadors for the smallest country in Central America, due to the special aspect of the food, which allows diners to enjoy fully every bite of its savory filling. This is because the pupusa has two layers, with the filling in the middle. It could be described as a pre-Columbian sandwich.

Depending on one’s cooking skills, the famous pupusas can be made in two ways. It is suggested that beginners take a spoonful of dough and flatten it with any flat object into a circular shape. Next, cover the dough with the filling but don’t cover the edges. Finally, cover with another flattened piece of dough, and seal the edges carefully.

Those with more experience can make a ball with two tablespoons of batter. Use fingers to make a hole in the center of the ball, which is where one puts the filling. Seal the hole and the ball is shaped in the palms of the hands, making sure that the pupusa has a circular shape.

With both methods, special care should be taken to make sure the shape is circular, that the filling is well distributed, that the layer of dough is not too thick, and that there are no holes through which the filling can leak out.

Similar to the Venezuelan arepas, the pupusas are cooked on a griddle or comal.

Gorditas: Queen of the fried tortilla

The versatile Mexican cuisine reinvented tortillas and turned that food into a gordita, making it more irresistible, perhaps because it is dipped into boiling oil. Besides, how can one resist those hand-made tortillas, fried, and stuffed with chicharrón or queso fresco?

There are different versions of the gordita; some are baked and not fried. Also, there are those who fill them after they are fried, opening them in half and filling them with cheese or meat. Also, in some regions of Mexico, such as Durango, wheat flour is used instead of corn flour.

The gorditas (“little plump ones”) are so named because to make them one needs to fashion a plump dollop of dough.

Hispanic cuisine shares common roots and relies on corn as a multicultural bridge. So the next time you enjoy a gordita, you may actually be eating an arepa or a pupusa. That’s because in the Latin American kitchen, nationalities get mixed together.

Los Espantos: Hispanic frightful creatures … and El Coco, the Hispanic bogeyman

There are many stories about scary monsters. Some are sinister that they scare even the bravest.

In every corner of a neighborhood, or a fishing harbor, or in a pasture and even in the alleys of our crowded  cities, there is always a story of such frightful creatures. Of course, they are full of the mystery of the legends and illuminated by popular myths and traditions.

La Llorona, La Sayona, La Mano Peluda, Cipitío and La Calaca, are part of the idiosyncrasies of Hispanics.

In his book about myths, legends and popular beliefs in Boyacá, Colombia, Javier Ocampo López says that the myths of Latin American phantoms have been passed on by tradition and appear in our present as survivors of the past. The author states that they “govern the lives of people and the countryside.”

He writes that every extraordinary thing in nature is seen as having a core or spiritual essence, which plays an active role in the existence of that which surrounds and includes people. He says “they can present themselves as enemies to be feared.”

In 2005 a research report was published by the National University of Central Perú with a title referring of the “nest” beings that scare. The study, directed by professor Daniel Mathews, concluded that like all things important to man, fear is born with humans, but it also created, formed.

Every culture has ghoulish beings whose sole function in life is to remain resignedly inside a closet, walk in a sweat along the boundaries of a mountain at the moment of maximum heat, or stand guard inside a well, waiting patiently for a child or an adult to commit a prank that allows these frightful beings to take action and demonstrate their varied talents.

La Llorona

This spook has many looks, since she ranges from México as far as Patagonia. The legend is about a woman who drowned her children and then committed suicide. At night she goes out to look for her little ones, following rivers, and crying out: “Oh, my children!”

La Calaca

It is the skeleton of a person chasing individuals at night, when it is very late and one is alone on the streets.

La Sayona

A female character who haunts the streets of Caracas, Venezuela, wrapped in a white robe, with long black hair and whose sole purpose is to scare those who are not inside their houses.

Cipitío

This is a Salvadorian character whose name is derived from the Nahuatl word, Xipe Totec, the God of Fertility. He is a sort of poet and according to the legend he uses his passionate voice to seduce women, making it easier to scare them one they fall spellbound at his feet.

La Mano Peluda

Perhaps this image of terror is the most well-known internationally. It appears everywhere. Common in subways and alleys, it is a large, hairy hand with long nails, which looks through windows or gaps in the walls. Its aim is to fright children who misbehave. It is also thought that it arrives at night and touches one while asleep.

El Coco, the Hispanic bogeyman

If children do not do their homework, do not want to take a bath or simply they refuse to go to bed, that where the most effective of all the “scare-the-Hispanic-child” ploys arises: the bogeyman, known in Spanish by the fear-inspiring name of El Coco.

For many parents – and grandparents who got tired of the mischief of their grandchildren – El Coco is the best negotiator when dealing with children. Simply announce his impending visit and it becomes a blessed remedy. Even the most rebellious child becomes an archetype of virtue.

So now you know, if your children disobey, here is the solution: “Duérmete niño, duérmete ya, que viene El Coco y te comerá” … or “Go to sleep child, go to sleep now, or El Coco will come and gobble you up.”

Did you know that the Spanish Royal Academy refers to “Coco”, in the fourth entry as the “ghost that is conjured up to scare children.”

Photos by Juan Miret

Hallaca: Remembering Spain, with a Caribbean flavor

If the “hallaca” became human, no doubt it would be a woman. One of the best descriptions of the emblematic dish of the holiday season in Venezuela was penned by journalist Ana Maria Carrano in the magazine Bienmesabe. “She would not be a Miss Venezuela, but a plump lady, colorfully dressed, a bit outrageous and full of surprises. An attractive lady, fun and disposed toward sayings.”

The hallaca is a charming paradigm that is a result of a cultural mix so typical among Hispanics. Undoubtedly, it is “the epitome of the process of cultural mixing. In it you find: the raisin and the olive of the Romans and the Greeks, the caper and almond from the Arabs, the beef from the captains living in Castile, the corn and the banana leaf of the Indians.” So it is described by writer Arturo Uslar Pietri.

Chef Sumito Estévez said in an article, which was titled “What if he Bolívar did not eat hallacas?” and published in September 2010, that one cannot compare the hallaca to a tamale. “On many occasions I have heard cooks compare it to a tamale. Such an attempt might make sense if our hallaca really were a mix of corn dough with other ingredients. That certainly is as far as possible from the concept of preparing the hallaca. In fact, if we had to explain what our dish is about, it would be much fairer to do so using the Galician empanada; that is, a tasty filling wrapped in dough. Our dough.”

The birth of the hallaca dates to the Spanish colonies, the 15th and 16th centuries. Its creation came via the hands of aborigines and slaves, who had to be inventive with the leftovers of their masters and oppressors.

Described below is a dish that takes two days of preparation and whose strict order of preparation requires time – a long time – in addition to the secret ingredient: passion for maintaining a generational legacy. The recipe is from Magda Carrasquero, originally from eastern Venezuela and interviewed by A Hispanic Matter.

Hallacas (50)

The Stew

Sauce:
6 cups chopped onions
4 cups of leek
2 cups scallions
¾ cups of garlic
½ cup capers
4 ½ red pepper
6 sweet ají peppers
1 tablespoon paprika
¼ cup of mustard
1 bottle of Worcestershire sauce
1 bottle of Spanish Muscatel wine
½ pound of brown sugar or piloncillo
1 tablespoon freshly ground black pepper
5 tablespoons of salt
2 cups chicken broth, freshly made

Meats:
6 ½ pounds of pork
6 ½ pounds of beef (bottom round)
2 chickens of 4½ pounds each

Preparation:
Fry the ingredients for the sauce in a cup of corn oil.
Add the pork and beef, which has been cut into small squares (the meat should be cut while raw).
Cook for 30 to 40 minutes, stirring and adding the sauce with a wooden spoon.
The chickens are cooked in boiling water until tender. The breasts are removed, which will be used for the garnish. The rest is incorporated into the stew.
It is cooked for about 25 minutes.
In a blender, place a cup of chicken broth with ½ cup of cornmeal.
This mixture is added to the stew.
Stir constantly for about 30 minutes until it begins to reduce.
The stew should be left standing until it cools completely. It should be covered with a kitchen towel, so that it will air out. This process can take between 6 to 8 hours or more.
The stew should be done the day before preparing the hallacas.

The dough

Ingredients
1 ½ cup water
5 cups of lard
¼ dry white corn, cleaned and sorted
30 cups cooked ground corn, or 5 kilos of corn dough
3 cups of the broth in which the chickens were cooked
5 teaspoons of salt
6 tablespoons annatto
6 sweet ají peppers

Preparation
The ingredients are added to the corn dough. The texture should be smooth and the flavor can be adjusted as it is prepared.

Garnish
2.2 pounds of red pepper
1/3 pound of peeled almonds
1 pound of onions
1/3 pound capers
6.5 ounces of olives
1/2 pound of raisins

The garnish items should be set aside on a counter.

Banana leaves

Ingredients
15 pounds of banana leaves
1 cup lard, colored with annatto
String to tie the hallacas
Water and salt for cooking

Preparation
The leaves should be washed and dried well. They must also be baked.
All of them must be greased before adding the dough. This is done with a cloth.
The leaves are cut and sorted into three groups according to size. The larger ones are used on the bottom. The smaller ones are used on the top (as a kind of lid) and the others for the final wrap.

Cooking the hallacas

They should be placed in a pot of boiling water with salt for 45 minutes.
Before placing them in the refrigerator, they must be completely cold. 

Photos by Juan Miret

José Antonio Pantoja: turning brushes into oars of freedom

A Cuban painter who dreamed about and planned his departure for 15 years now uses the Midwest as his new canvas.

He could have chosen the home of Caribbean exile in the sunny city of Miami, Florida. But he did not like that little Havana of the first world, perhaps because of the proximity of that stormy sea which he saw swallow not only many of his dreams and hopes for 40 years, but friends and acquaintances who tried to cross the 90 miles between the oppressive yoke of the Castro brothers and the land of opportunity.

José Antonio Pantoja, an artist who is 41, considers himself a sort of Cuban Crocodile Dundee who defected from a communist dictatorship, exchanging hunger, oppression, poverty and abuse for just one thing: freedom.

Left behind is the anguish and frustration of wanting to but not being able to, and the torment of living isolated from the world.

And like the vast majority of immigrants who arrive with nothing, except for their talent, today there is much that he enjoys: walking freely, spending hours in the supermarket trying to decide between an endless selection of milk and eggs, enjoying the Internet without fear of being punished and imprisoned, opening the bathroom faucet and know that there is water, enjoying a new dish called pizza, partying with friends who only speak English, driving without difficulties. All of this because his future arrived in June 2011, when he requested political asylum while in the city of Querétaro in Mexico, where he had been invited to an art exhibition that never existed.

“It was like being born again,” recalls the painter, interviewed in his home and studio in the Brady district just north of downtown Tulsa. “The dreams of freedom were no longer just in those old black and white films I used to see in Cuba. It was reality, and in full color.”

Pantoja tells his story almost breathlessly and gesturing with his hands while looking over some of his sketches. “There is so much to talk about that a book could be written,  but everything can be summarized in one word: freedom! My thirst for freedom, my frustration with the reality of Cuba – that is what brought me here.”

From Cuba to Tulsa

The artist often mentions a topic that he finds remarkable: supermarkets. “There is so much abundance,” he said. “I still find it hard to go; it is not easy to adapt, given that 40 years without freedom can traumatize anyone. After living in a little box for 40 years, this is starting to live, but at a speed of a million miles per hour. “

Pantoja said Cubans are under strict food rationing. This is determined by a “supply book,” set up in March 1962 and by which products such as meat – in this case chicken and soy – are limited to 230 grams per month. “It’s the same with eggs and even soap. Everything is controlled. That’s why going to a market here is unimaginable, a fantasy.”

The misery in the country is extreme, Pantoja said. “It’s a form of repression. That and education, when you limit those two things, you have control.” With an average annual salary of $229, it is “impossible to live.”

Pantoja said that he is neither a revolutionary nor a dissident, nor is he a nationalist and much less a Yankee. He is a painter who with his brushes fought the oppression of a regime for 40 years.

He began developing his idea of ​​leaving the island – and technically to become a deserter – when he was very young, he said. “There are paintings where you can appreciate my desire, my search for liberty.”

In fact one of the works in which Pantoja is currently working on in Tulsa depicts a huge cup tied to a monumental balloon, and inside there is a sort of Noah’s ark. “In our minds we still must consider all possibilities, and everything in Cuba is so difficult that one has to think more.”

Pantoja belongs to an elite group of Cuban painters who managed to convince the government to establish a space for artistic expression; it was called the Culture Project, a kind of open-air gallery along the Havana seawall. Of course, this small window of emancipation was achieved through many years of being patient with the humiliations of the regime, including two years of strikes.

Pantoja said that dealing with and taking part in the National Council of Plastic Arts was like living with “a dream-killing machine,” but being there allowed him to further develop his plan to leave because he had Internet access in an office. “Of course, I was watched, very carefully watched,” he explains. “They are watching every key you press.”

That’s how Pantoja turned the frustration of having to hide his works and avoid the pressure of the regime to change his painting’s themes; it was all in an effort to move ahead. His fame on the island turned him into a person beloved by the people and hated by the communist party leaders. “Yet I had very powerful government customers who bought my paintings to make fun of Fidel (Castro) in their homes, behind closed doors.”

Pantoja’s perseverance enabled him to avoid hundreds of bureaucratic hurdles and counter many negatives so that he could obtain approval for a trip to an art exhibition at the Museum of Querétaro, Mexico. “Finally I was able to get the invitation,” he said. After he obtained the “blessed letter,” Pantoja gambled on his future. “I had to either leave the island or end up living in a dungeon. Fortunately, I was able to get out. “

Exile has not been easy. Pantoja, as do other immigrants, opened a wound that is difficult to heal, especially because of what is left behind and because of the uncertainty of the unknown. “It’s hard, very hard,” he said. “But at the same time freedom helps you, it supports you and gives you strength.”

Painting in Oklahoma

“My works give voice to the people of Cuba,” says Pantoja. “There are very few people who can speak out. And fewer who do speak and survive.”

Painting in Tulsa is something he loves. “First, because I have the freedom to do so, and second because it is something new for the other people, who see a world of which they know nothing.”

Pantoja said that through his work “I paint the errors of the revolution.” But he expects the work to be useful for “those who with so much power, can rectify and change, although in truth I doubt they will do so; unfortunately, they only know how to cut the wings of freedom.”

He said his paintings are still sad. “There is no other way; I am traumatized. I have to reflect what I feel,” he said. “It’s a process of liberation and those wounds are still open: I still sense the smell of the sea.”

Pantoja said he will continue painting. “And now that I am out of Cuba, even more so,” he said. “It’s very difficult to create when they kill your dreams, when they crush your ideas. But in freedom you create forever.”

The artist will exhibit some of his work in Tulsa in June, adding photographs and visual objects that will allow the audience to better understand his art.

The painter and his memories of Cuba

“The smell of the sea. One does not forget that.”

“My people. They travel with my paintings.”

“The light of dawn.”

“Cuba got stuck in time and Bejucal [his hometown] cannot even find an hourglass.”

Photo by Juan Miret

Hot dogs: reinventing an American classic

Who would have thought that an emblematic American food – the hot dog – would become a hybrid Hispanic menu item?

This classic snack found at baseball games is no longer a torturous,tasteless boiled frankfurter wrapped in bread as white as a ghost and sprinkled with mustard and ketchup.

That has changed – a lot. The Hispanic-style hot dog is as colorful as a repertoire of excuses from a repentant husband.

“Spicy, tasty and very different from what people are used to,” said Luisa Contreras, who takes the orders at a mobile food stand in the Kendall-Whittier neighborhood. “It has everything on it. It is a full meal.”

This version includes a spicy sausage, sliced ​​fresh tomatoes, onions,j alapeños and a covering of mustard, mayonnaise and ketchup. However, its special touch – “what makes us different from others” – Contreras said, is a “chile de árbol as a garnish.”  This is in addition to some bits of bacon that give it a crunchy texture.

For José Ledezma, a cook at a mobile food stand usually found in eastTulsa, the best hot dog is from the Mexican state of Sonora.

“The bread is a bolillo type of roll,” said Ledezma. He pointed out that the wiener is wrapped in bacon,“but that takes a long time, so I don’t do that part.” The dish is garnished with tomatoes and onions cut into squares. “And two chiles from the grill.”

Ramiro Hernández has a hot dog cart in far southern Bixby, and for three years he has been developing what he considers the best hot dog. “I don’t use store-bought sauces; I make all of them. That is why I am sought out,” he said, speaking in the parking lot of a well-known building supply store. “Plus, I add lettuce, tomatoes and jalapeños.” Another feature of his recipe is that the bread is toasted.

 Maybe hot dogs will not make it to a bullring or be the perfect appetizer for a game of dominoes, but in some way they have been reinvented and adapted to the Hispanic palate.

Tell me where you come and I will tell you what kind of hot dog you eat

As one would expect, Latin Americans have not only transformed a disht hat is claimed by many creators, but whether they are European or American,there are versions that have made ​​the hot dog part of Spanish cuisine. Thus one finds the choripán, an Argentinean version.

“It is an appetizer that is served while waiting for the grilled meat,”said Olga Fugazza, a former Buenos Aires resident who has lived in Tulsa for 14 years. She was shopping in a store in south Tulsa that carries South American products. “It is not frankfurters that are used, but chorizo sausages – beef or pork – cooked on the grill.”

Fugazza said the bread is a country type roll, like the Mexican bolillo.The meat is cut in the middle, giving it the name of “butterfly,” and the sauce is the classic South American  chimichurri.

The Venezuelans have invented some french fries, tiny and thin, that top their hot dogs.

“Besides the three typical sauces – mustard, mayonnaise and ketchup –they come with onion, cabbage and potatoes,” said Estella Suárez, who was with Fugazza buying snacks.

“And there are others that come with cheese, shredded carrots and a few kernels of corn. It is the favorite after a long night of partying.” This version uses the Vienna sausages,which are thinner and usually boiled. The bread is the one usually used for hot dogs.

Photos by Juan Miret

Frida Kahlo, universal woman

 (Photo by artist Elisa Abadí)

It was 105 years ago that Magdalena Carmen Frida Kahlo y Calderón was born in a small blue house in the neighborhood of Coyoacán in Mexico City. Her works immortalized her, and the planet came to know her simply as Frida, a Hispanic who went from being a Mexican to becoming the world’s heritage.

“Frida turned pain into art,” said Flora Peña, a former resident of the Mexican state of Veracruz who is now living in Tulsa. Her home in east Tulsa is a sort of museum honoring Kahlo. “This painting is enveloped in a jungle that may one day give me bananas; for now, I guess it will serve as food for the monkeys.”

Peña discovered the artistic legacy of Kahlo as a teenager. “I grew up in Mexico City and thanks to a visit to Coyoacán, I was able to learn not only about Frida’s work, but her history, the mark she left on Mexico and the world. She was a woman ahead of her time. Even today, her thoughts are very progressive.”

She has many books, paintings, posters and Kahlo keepsakes, but Peña says her collection grows smaller as her friendships grow. “I always ask my friends: Do you know who Frida was? No matter what they answer – yes or no – I give them something about this great artist so that they will remember her and so they will continue to promote her work.”

Venezuelan artist Elisa Abadí, who regularly dresses in the style of Kahlo but with a Caribbean touch, said via Facebook that Frida has been a major influence “because I lived in Coyoacán, next to her house.”

Abadí, whose art is influenced by German expressionism and is splashed with tropical colors and inspired by the turbulent social reality of Venezuela, said that “you cannot imagine the feelings there are in her house,” referring to the famous blue home. “It seems like she is giving you a tour of her space, her room, her kitchen, her studio, her paintings, her easel, her wheelchair. Everything is impressive.” She added: “For me, Frida in four words is: passion, strength, color, life.”

Lozada Angeles, a newcomer to Tulsa from Mexico, is a Frida fan. “I love her, especially because she was a woman who fought for things, and was very proud of her Mexican roots,” she said from her home in south Tulsa while showing a poster bearing many images of the painter’s face. “She is a real woman, no Photoshop. Flesh and bones. I am fascinated by her because she is real.”

Monica Bello, a Tulsa resident who is originally from Guatemala, said “Frida is an example for all women” because “she suffered, but was able to bear her pain with dignity. She fell in love, broke rules, and always, always, was proud of her people.”

Bello has a Kahlo-inspired doll covered with a white mantilla and bearing a crown of flowers. “She looks like a virgin, or better yet, an Indian woman about to marry,” she said. “I bought it for 20 pesos in Coyoacán, many years ago.”

Artist, feminist, dreamer, but above all talented, Frida Kahlo created a magnificent showcase for the world to notice and enjoy Latin American art.

 (Photo by Juan Miret) 

Simply Frida

Born in Coyoacán, Mexico, on July 6, 1907. She died there on July 13, 1954.

The last words she wrote in her diary were: “I await the exit happily and I hope to never return.”

Her life was marked by physical suffering, pain and illness. The first of these misfortunes was when she contracted polio in 1913, which led to a series of ailments, injuries, accidents and operations. The first illness left permanent damage: a right leg that was much thinner than the left. In 1925 she was in a serious bus accident with injuries that affected her for the rest of her life.

She married artist Diego Rivera in 1929. Ten years later she divorced him.

In 2007, coinciding with the centenary of her birth, Mexico’s Palace of Fine Arts displayed 354 of her works in an exhibit titled “Frida Kahlo 1907-2007. National Homage.” It was estimated that the exhibit attracted more than 415,000 visitors, a record number for any artist in that venue.

Did you know?

Kahlo’s life has been twice presented in movies. The first was “Frida, naturaleza viva,” with actress Ofelia Medina, and more recently, “Frida,” with Salma Hayek.