Editorial Nostalgia | Volume 1 | Enchiladas with Irma
A portrait experience for people who want to preserve memories of home & who they love.
Ideas for this ritual-based portrait series have slowly grown in my imagination for many years. I’ve always loved watching people cook and welcome the stories that flow in these spaces. As I’ve aged, I wanted to capture moments of my grandparents in their kitchens. Unfortunately, that time passed, without the opportunity to time travel back to the aromas & voices of their homes. Now, it has become a mission to become a historian by photographing people of all ages doing what they love.
Written & Photographed by Andrea Molina
As light snow dusted our streets this early March morning, I found comfort in knowing that this silver white winter is melting into spring. Later today, the temperatures will rise and our gardens will welcome rain. That’s the rhythm of the seasons, sometimes blended softly into each other in the span of a day, but reliably churning the year forward.
With a warm cup of coffee, I traveled back to the crisp October afternoon I spent with my mom last year.
Enchiladas and tamales are the most requested dishes for my mom, so when she agreed to make enchiladas for this project, word spread quickly in our family group chat. She is a woman who raised eight children and our bridge to our Mexican culture.
My mom grew up with similar excitement when her mom would make enchiladas at home or when she had them at her church’s annual festival. She reflected about her childhood memories tied to enchiladas:
“I loved watching the process of my mom making them when I was six or eight years old. We would get so excited, because we would not have them very often. I loved the aroma of corn tortillas, the sauce, the meat, and the cheese as it filled the air. I still remember how delicious they were. We would devour them and couldn’t wait for the next time she would make them.”
Both sets of my mom’s grandparents lived in Laredo, Texas, where she was born. Her dad’s parents were from Zacatecas, Mexico and immigrated to the US during the Mexican Revolution to escape danger, political turmoil, violence, and Pancho Villa’s raids. Her mother’s side were from Bustamante, Mexico and my great-great grandparents immigrated to the US for similar reasons.
My mom’s parents were migrants that picked seasonal produce throughout the US before they settled in Findlay, Ohio when my mom was a baby.
Moving throughout the year takes a toll on a family.
My grandma wanted her children to have an opportunity to grow roots in a community. I’ll share another story about my grandma’s role in meeting with President Carter to advocate for migrants another time, but it’s one of my favorite family stories!
Mom loves to see her grandchildren and lights up differently when they visit or when we talk about them. I’ve always admired her patience and gentle spirit. Our kids know that “Grandma” or “Mimi Bell” will be a good listener when they bump their knee and will be the first to rock them when they need some love.
They also know that she will have something delicious to offer when they need a snack or meal.
Years after they moved to Ohio, my mom & her family formed a team that picked potatoes during the month of August while my mom was in high school (along with other migrant families). After a farmer would plow the field, she and the others would put as many potatoes into the large baskets as they could during long shifts.
Her eyes always shine with pride when she describes being able to give money to her parents and being able to buy school clothes by herself. She always taught us to be thankful, because we knew the sacrifices her family made for their children.
My mom said that she learned how to make enchiladas by watching her mom, grandma, extended relatives, and their friends make them. As she got older, she would help make enchiladas. She shared a bit more about the learning curve she experienced:
“My dad would tell me to add enough spices to make sure they had plenty of flavor. That was his advice when I would help cook a meal. One thing I always had trouble with was making the sauce. There was something missing. Years later, an elderly Mexican lady who was one of the cooks at the fiestas, told me what the missing ingredient was. I made sure to add it to my sauce and it tastes just like I remember it tasting as a child. I wish I could go back to my mom’s, grandma’s, and relatives kitchens. I would ask them questions and pay close attention to everything they were doing. If only that could happen!”
I wanted to photograph images that look the way it feels to be home in my mom’s kitchen.
Enjoying enchiladas is an event that I love seeing passed to my mom’s grandchildren. My nieces were peeking over counters in anticipation like I imagine my mom used to do more than half a century ago.
We all share my sister, Abby’s, sentiment that mom “ruined enchiladas and tamales at Mexican restaurants, because they can’t compete with the authenticity of hers.”
I’m going to be honest that I didn’t fuss with plating them very much, because we were hungry by the time they were ready!
My parents celebrated their 50th Wedding Anniversary a couple years ago, and I photographed them in their flower garden to display pictures at the event.
I love when their flowers are in bloom, especially the dahlias & hibiscus.
The snow that kept me company this morning almost melted completely as I put the finishing touches on this post, just as the forecast predicted. Instead of rain, we had beautiful clear skies. I noticed the prettiest little hyacinth leaves inching toward the light.
The summer gardens don’t feel so far away, especially when they are hanging on my walls to remind me they exist.
These Storytelling Sessions are perfect for Birthdays, Anniversaries, Mother’s Day, or Father’s Day. If this resonates with you and you would like to experience this, I am accepting a limited number of bookings, please contact me.
If you enjoy this concept, please let me know and share with someone else who would like a session like this.
Thank you!
- Andrea
