Imagine yourself in the 1950s, freshly divorced and suddenly tasked with selling sex toys. It’s a scenario that would make your abuela gasp and your mother blush. Yet for Consuelo, it becomes the catalyst for a journey of self-discovery and empowerment.

ViX’s latest TV series, “Consuelo,” is set to grace screens on April 19th, offering audiences a fresh perspective on female agency and sexual liberation. The titular character is portrayed by Mexican actress Cassandra Sanchez Navarro, renowned for her roles in the 2012 telenovela “Corona de Lágrimas” and the 2020 hit film “Cindy La Regia,” the most-watched local movie in Mexico that year. This time, Sanchez-Navarro embodies a dedicated housewife whose world crumbles when her husband abandons her, leaving her to care for three children alone. Determined to achieve financial independence, Consuelo ventures into the world of sales, promoting an innovative device called the “Dildo,” clandestinely becoming the city’s sex guru while discovering love and pleasure for herself.

As Consuelo embarks on her journey as a saleswoman, she encounters initial rejection from her peers, who label the products as “aparatos del demonio,” or “Satan’s artifacts.” Though initially skeptical, Consuelo overcomes prejudice through her exploration, helping other women shed their internalized stigmas surrounding sex and pleasure.

Throughout history, Latinas have often been confined to the role of homemakers, expected solely to please their husbands and embody the ideal of the “esposa amada,” or “beloved model wife,” as Consuelo describes it. And the opposite has happened on screen, where Latinas have often been reduced to highly fetishized roles, lacking representation in empowering narratives like that of Consuelo, who confidently owns her story and asserts her agency.

This show comes at a time where studies indicate that Latinas increasingly view their sexuality and pleasure in a positive light. This trend might explain why, like Consuelo, more Latinas are stepping into the realm of sexual wellness entrepreneurship.

One such pioneer is Éva Goicochea, founder of the Dakota Johnson-backed brand Maude. Reflecting on her upbringing, Goicochea recalls her Mexican-American mother openly discussing sex from a biological standpoint, whereas her Catholic high school and devoutly religious grandparents emphasized abstinence. “I’m sure that’s the experience of many within Latino households,” she told Latina. “Now, even my very, very Catholic grandmother acknowledges what I do, and it makes her proud! If that doesn’t signify the tides changing, I don’t know what does.”

Within this evolving landscape, “Consuelo” emerges as a compelling television series and cultural touchstone, championing sex positivity and women’s empowerment. The show ignites crucial conversations long overdue, connecting women of different generations and inspiring audiences to embrace their journeys.

Watch the trailer here:

Growing up in Oaxaca, Mexico, Bricia Lopez spent her days indulging in regional dishes cooked by her mother and grandmother, who she describes as the “the best cooks ever.” But when her family migrated to Los Angeles, Lopez was exposed to a food landscape that was very different from all she knew. “I [didn’t have] McDonald’s until I was 10 years old. I never tasted a hamburger until I was 8. All those things were very foreign to me,” Lopez told LATINA.

As a way to preserve their culture and secure a future for their family, Lopez’ parents opened a Oaxacan restaurant, Guelaguetza, nested in a traditional Korean building on the outskirts of L.A.’s Koreatown. The establishment soon became a popular destination for Oaxacan cuisine, but when the 2008 financial crisis hit, Lopez’ parents were forced to consider shutting Guelaguetza down.

Lopez grilling tortillas. Photographed by Aaron Pinkston.

Fearing to see it all gone, Lopez and her siblings Fernando and Paulina stepped in and took over the restaurant’s management — and they still run it to this day. “Growing up in the restaurant, seeing how much work my parents put into it, and then one day being faced with the possibility that it was all going to be gone and we all [might have] to go and find another career was scarier than taking on a failing business,” Lopez said.

The trio managed to revive the business and have since won multiple awards, including the James Beard Classics Award in 2015, an award given to “locally owned restaurants that have timeless appeal and are beloved regionally for quality food that reflects the character of its community.” But Lopez hadn’t always imagined her life to take this path. “I never really wanted to do the restaurant thing because I know how difficult the industry is,” she says, “but as I got older, I didn’t see it as a job, I saw it as a calling to really champion my culture.”

The now well-established restaurateur has also delved into cookbook writing, authoring “Oaxaca: Home Cooking from the Heart of Mexico” in 2019 and “Asada: The Art of Mexican Style Grilling” this year, which delves into this traditional grilled-meat cooking style beloved in Southern California. “[The cookbook] is just my experience as a Oaxacan girl growing up in L.A. […] it is very L.A.-Mexican cooking,” she said.

Fernando Sr. in front of the original Guelaguetza location in L.A.’s Koreatown.

In terms of what’s next for Lopez, she’s excited to take over the main stage at the LA Times Food Bowl for their Fiesta Friday on September 22, where she will do a cooking demo of memelas. Guelaguetza will also be present serving their famous mole negro with rice and micheladas in the VIP booth. “We’ll have all the things I love in one night, I’m super excited to be able to represent.”

Alejandra Arevalo is a Peruvian multimedia journalist based in New York covering the music industry at Chartmetric.

Peruvian food might be one of the most talked about cuisines right now – especially after the Lima-based Central won the coveted title of Best Restaurant in the World 2023 – but that wasn’t always the case. For Peruvian expats moving overseas in the 80s, finding traditional ingredients and restaurants that served their favorite dishes proved an almost impossible mission. That’s where entrepreneurs like Rosa and Salomon Jaime came into play; they were among the first to establish a family-owned restaurant chain that brought homemade Peruvian flavors to Los Angeles.

“My mom would make aji amarillo paste in Peru and then freeze it to bring it to the U.S.,” Rosa told LATINA. “Back in the day, they would let you take it through customs.” The family’s dedication to getting the best ingredients paid off, as their restaurant, El Pollo Inka, was able to serve a wide variety of Peruvian dishes since they opened their first location in 1987.

Owning a restaurant wasn’t in Rosa’s plan when she migrated to the U.S. The Huánuco native first arrived in Connecticut, where she studied to become a nurse, but her husband very much disliked the weather and decided they make the move to Los Angeles. There, Rosa worked at a sewing company for years, learning the ins and outs of the trade until she saved up enough to open a clothing factory. The couple ran the business for over a decade but eventually sold it due to operational challenges.

As the Jaimes were thinking about their next business endeavor, Rosa was cooking Peruvian dishes for her husband’s recreational soccer matches. The players would always encourage her to turn her cooking skills into a business so Rosa thought about opening a pollería, a restaurant specializing in Peruvian-style rotisserie chicken. She soon found the perfect spot for her new venture thanks to an impromptu visit to a Lawndale mall.

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“We went to a nearby shopping center to get some food and suddenly, I [saw] chicken in a rotisserie oven just like in Peru. So, I rushed in and ordered ¼ chicken. It was awful,” Rosa said. She complained to the owner, who told her that the restaurant was up for sale. Rosa called her husband who showed up ready to buy the place. “My husband immediately wrote a check and sealed the deal. We left very excited but then asked ourselves, ‘And the money?’” After all, they actually didn’t have enough cash to buy the restaurant. “I told Salomon, ‘Let’s sell our house’ and he was like ‘Are you insane?’” Rosa said. “We priced it low so that it would sell fast and in just three days, it was off the market. That’s how the story of our restaurant begins.”

The word spread fast about Lawndale’s newest pollería, soon bringing in Peruvian and non-Peruvian customers who would patiently wait in line outside the five-table restaurant. It caught the eye of Los Angeles Times food writer Linda Burum, who named El Pollo Inka one of her “top choices” for Peruvian food in LA back in 1989. While pollo a la brasa was the restaurant’s signature dish, the eatery served a wide variety of dishes including the Andean appetizer ocopa (boiled potatoes served with black mint sauce)–which Burum described as “the best version of ocopa I’ve tasted.”

Rosa attributes El Pollo Inka’s ever-growing diverse clientele to Peru’s culinary fusions, which share commonalities with multiple world cuisines. “Our Arab customers loved seco de cordero (Peruvian lamb stew) because they’re used to eating a lot of lamb. The Chinese customers really liked lomo saltado (Chinese-Peruvian stir-fried beef) because it reminded them of their flavors,” Rosa said.

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The restaurant also debuted a spicy green sauce that soon stole customers’ hearts, as it was the perfect dip for fries, rotisserie chicken, and everything on the menu. While Ají Verde is now a staple at Peruvian restaurants in the US, you won’t find it at pollerías in Peru. This is because Rosa claims that Salomon came up with the recipe at their home in LA. Before opening their restaurant, the family would go to El Pollo Loco to enjoy the closest they could find to Peruvian rotisserie chicken. While it was tasty, Salomon considered it was missing Peruvian spice. He mixed ají amarillo paste and jalapeños–which aren’t used in Peruvian cuisine–among other ingredients to create a sauce that tastes distinctly Peruvian, and yet, like no other ají-based sauce. When El Pollo Inka opened, Ají Verde became a staple and is now synonymous with Peruvian food in the US. “Now, if you go to any Peruvian restaurant, you’ll find the green sauce. They might be trying to imitate ours, each with their own twist, but there’s nothing like the ají my husband created,” Rosa said.

While the Jaime’s owned El Pollo Inka’s first location, it soon became a family affair. Rosa’s younger siblings went from doing the dishes at the restaurant to opening their own franchises across LA, including Pollo Inka Express – a drive-thru version of the restaurant. “I never expected to have a restaurant and that it would be such a successful family business,” Rosa said. “My success isn’t only mine, it’s my siblings’ too.”

Map showing El Pollo Inka locations across Los Angeles

As El Pollo Inka continued to gain brand recognition, the Jaimes received external business proposals to continue expanding their restaurant empire. A family friend opened a franchise in Miami, and they are now in talks with international investors looking to open franchises in the Philippines, Korea, and the UAE.

But becoming a big-brand name hasn’t changed their core mission to serve their community in the best way possible. In 2007, El Pollo Inka donated thousands of dollars in relief aid to displaced Peruvians following one of Peru’s most destructive earthquakes ever. They also provided meals to essential workers at the height of the pandemic. And now, they are often involved in local fundraisers and social events to foster community.

“To become something better, achieve your dreams, and make sure everything goes well, we have to be united,” Rosa said. “Success is loving, caring, and supporting each other.”

Alejandra Arevalo is a Peruvian multimedia journalist based in New York covering the music industry at Chartmetric.

The U.S. Department of Justice recently reported that there has been a decrease in prison inmates but an increase in jail population. In a country that still lives under the shadow of mass incarceration, this increase should be taken with caution as the criminal justice system often punishes harsher those who have less.

“A lot of people who are sent to jail aren’t there for what most people would consider serious crimes and are instead being arrested on outstanding warrants related to things like failure to pay tickets,”Jacob Kang-Brown, a senior research associate with the Vera Institute of Justice, told The 19th. “Continued efforts to not send people to jail for those things post-pandemic are really important.”

According to the Department of Justice, the majority of people in jail (71%) were unconvicted and waiting for court proceedings. They accounted for an 81% increase in the jail population from mid-2020 to mid-2021. Specifically looking at the gender breakdown, women have been affected the most, as the number of women in jail has increased by 22% from 2020 to 2021 — compared to 15% for men. Unfortunately, it is hard to determine exactly how many Latinos are in jail as shown by a 2023 study that highlighted issues in ethnicity data collection in local criminal justice systems.

The U.S. criminal justice system uses the cash bail system to allow defendants to continue with their normal lives but make sure they appear in court. Those who are unable to afford bail end up waiting for trial in jail for undetermined periods of time that could extend for years. Jail time can turn people’s lives upside down, especially for low-income women of color who are more vulnerable to the system’s oppression.

Image courtesy of The Bail Project

Such was the case of Sandra, a single mother of three who ended up in jail following a physical altercation with her landlord’s daughter. According to Sandra, the woman incited the fight by yelling at her and grabbing her hair but accused Sandra of being the instigator and hitting her with a knife. Sandra was taken to jail with a bail set at $150,000, that forced her to stay behind bars in unsanitary conditions without seeing her children for two months.

Convicts are often held in crowded spaces for days at a time, without access to basic necessities like working toilets and medicine, which can push them to their breaking point. Indeed, a 2022 New York Times investigation found that deaths in jails across the country have spiked, with suicides and fatal overdoses as some of the common causes.

Luckily, Sandra’s fate took a turn when The Bail Project, a non-profit organization that helps low-income individuals pay for bail, covered her quota. Her case was then dismissed after she was found not guilty. Despite her innocence, her experience in jail left her without a job and permanent housing, and she is now in the process of rebuilding her life. “There’s a stigma with people who have a record,” she told TBP. “It feels like we can never redeem ourselves.”

Image courtesy of The Bail Project

As the number of women in jail has increased, so has the number of women clients of TBP — which has gone up by 82% in the past five years. According to TBP, 35% of their clients identified as mothers just like Sandra, many of whom are primary caregivers and risk losing their children’s custody while in jail. Indeed, the prevalence of mothers in jails has inspired initiatives like Free Black Mamas DMV, which bailed out many Black mothers before Mother’s Day so that they could spend the special date with their loved ones.

No matter the challenges, formerly-jailed mothers are striving to keep moving forward with their lives and serve as an example for their children. “I don’t want my children to feel limited in what they can accomplish because of where we were at,” Sandra said. “My kids are everything to me.”

If you or someone you know needs support with a cash bail, we encourage you to reach out to The Bail Project through their website. You can also send donations to support the nonprofit’s mission through the same link.

Alejandra Arevalo is a Peruvian multimedia journalist based in New York covering the music industry at Chartmetric.

Música Mexicana is everywhere right now, and for all the right reasons. Trap corrido, or corridos tumbados, is the mix of regional Mexican sounds with reggaeton and urbano — a new blend pioneered by Gen-Zers that is taking the world by storm.

On April 17, “Ella Baila Sola” by 23-year-old corridos star Peso Pluma and Mexican-American group Eslabon Armado became the first regional Mexican song to make it to the top 10 of Billboard Hot 100. Since then, it has kept climbing up the charts. Now ranking at #5, the song is also #1 on the Billboard Global 200 and on Spotify’s Top Songs Global and Top Songs US. The track is just one of the many corridos that are making it to the top of the charts and putting Mexican culture front and center on the global stage.

“This is not something that has happened overnight,” Maykol Sanchez, Spotify’s Head of Artist & Label Partnerships, LATAM & US Latin told LATINA. “We’ve partnered up with Música Mexicana artists and labels for the past few years and have seen that the genre’s popularity has been on the rise. During last year’s ‘Wrapped,’ there were three Música Mexicana genres in the Top 50 most streamed genres globally.”

In just a couple of years, Peso Pluma, born Hassan Emilio Kabande Laija in Jalisco, Mexico, has gone from construction worker in LA to one of the most listened to artists in the world. The corridos singer recently made a special appearance at Coachella next to fellow Mexican superstar Becky G and was a special guest on The Tonight Show, demonstrating his growing popularity in the U.S.

According to Chartmetric, Peso Pluma went from 12M Spotify monthly listeners in February 2023 to more than 40M in May following the releases of “Ella Baila Sola” and “La Bebe” with Guadalajara-native Yng Lvcas — a track that also made it to the Billboard Hot 100.

Credit: Alejandra Arevalo/Chartmetric

Peso Pluma is just one of the many regional Mexican artists that are making strides in the genre, including independent label Rancho Humilde’s stars Natanael Cano, Junior H and Fuerza Regida, and all-women sierreño trio Conexión Divina. The latter made their Coachella debut this year, leaving their mark in a genre that has mostly been dominated by men. “It’s beautiful that young girls can see us and know that they can do it too,” the group’s requinto guitarist Ashlee Valenzuela previously told LATINA. “We’re writing about women and other minorities and feel like we’re a part of [those communities].”

Credit: Alejandra Arevalo/Chartmetric

The growing popularity of the genre is attracting artists from other genres, including Bad Bunny who recently released “Un x100to,” a collaboration with corridos hit-makers Grupo Frontera. Considering Bad Bunny’s international fan base, the track is serving as an entry point for diverse listeners across the world to listen to regional Mexican music for the first time. “This [collaboration] is creating momentum for the genre to continue its growth outside of the U.S. and Mexico, allowing it to break into other markets globally,” Sanchez said.

While this Música Mexicana wave is helping bring the genre to a wider audience, it has also brought into question many social issues that are pervasive in the Latino community. TikTok content creator Kemocion made a video pointing out that Peso Pluma has skyrocketed to stardom because he is a light-skinned Latino. “Marketers are saying that [he is popular] because he moved the genre of Mexican regional music away from tejanas and boots. What about the artists that came before him?” the creator said, referencing Natanael Cano and Junior H. “I don’t mean he isn’t talented. But because the idea that white means beautiful has been fed to us through telenovelas, people automatically buy into it when they see it.”

@jwitchytv #duet with @kemocion My former students have been making this type of music for years & they’re definitly not light skinned #parati #pesopluma #colorism #mexico #whitexican #telenovelas ♬ original sound – kemocion

Diverse representation in the top ranks of Música Mexicana might be still lacking, but the fact that the genre is growing worldwide shows that the mainstream music scene is progressively becoming more diverse. Despite collaborating with international artists from other genres, Música Mexicana artists aren’t compromising or changing themselves to fit the traditional mold of a global hit. Instead, by being unapologetically themselves and embracing their musical tradition, which includes paying homage to the sounds and artists that came before them, Música Mexicana artists are appealing to Gen Zers — a generation that is very passionate about authenticity and embracing their cultural heritage.

Alejandra Arevalo is a Peruvian multimedia journalist based in New York covering the music industry at Chartmetric.

What makes the United States the country it is? So many aspects might come to mind but something crucial about America’s identity is the diversity of its people. In the new podcast “I Am America,” award-winning actress Tracee Ellis Ross explores the stories of Americans from diverse backgrounds to paint a profile of life in this country.

“It took something really special for me to jump into the podcast world, and this is it. Inspired by people I like to call ‘hidden angels,’ these people are true inspirations—people who affect their communities with kindness and humanity,” Ellis Ross wrote on Instagram.

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Over 10 episodes, Ellis Ross follows the stories of people of color, aiming to highlight the often untold American narratives. “I love that at its roots, ‘I Am America’ is about identity and belonging. This was intentional. We live in a society that loves to put people in boxes and I think it’s important to discuss our humanity and connectivity outside of boxes. I want to live in a world where we all feel connected to each other and seen by each other,” Ross told Forbes.

The podcast lineup includes Mexican-born activist Conchita Hernandez Legorreta, who shares her experience growing up blind in California. “People believe disability is something bad, and so they’re like, oh, the word blind may be bad. So they use really interesting vocabulary such as like, uh, you know, differently-abled is one that gets used a lot that nobody likes,” Hernandez said in the podcast.

According to the National Federation of the Blind, there are multiple ways to define blindness – from partial to no vision – which makes it complicated to get precise numbers about the blind community in the US. Based on the 2016 American Community Survey results, more than 7 million people over the age of 16 reported a visual disability–which includes over 1 million people of Hispanic origin.

In the episode, Hernandez explores her intersectional identity as an undocumented Latina immigrant with a disability, maneuvering a system that wasn’t designed with people like her in mind. The Individuals with Disabilities Education Act, or IDEA for short, passed in the late 70s to ensure that students with disabilities would get appropriate accommodations so that they can participate in the school system in the best way possible. However, due to language barriers, Hernandez ended up acting as translator for her Spanish-speaking parents at parent-teacher conferences. As a result, she made many unfavorable decisions for her special needs. After all, she was just a child who didn’t consider herself blind, just someone with low vision.

It wasn’t until she reached college that she met a blind professor who introduced her to the National Federation for the Blind and eventually she signed up for a residential program designed for blind people to learn skills to navigate life independently. Experiences like this one inspired her to create training programs for people of color–specially the Latino and undocumented blind communities–taking into consideration the nuances that come with being people of color with disabilities.

“I think being blind and using the word blind isn’t just kind of a characteristic, but rather it’s also an identity,” Hernandez said. “And so, yes, it’s, it’s recognizing that I don’t see, but it’s also recognizing that, that I’m part of a bigger community of people and culture and history that kind of all goes in together.”

Listen to Conchita Hernandez Legorreta’s episode and the rest of “I Am America” wherever you listen to podcasts.

Alejandra Arevalo is a Peruvian multimedia journalist based in New York covering the music industry at Chartmetric.

Angelina Cubero was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis (MS) in 2020, but had been experiencing symptoms for almost a decade prior. “Now, I’m able to look back and piece it together and be like, ‘maybe it started here’ or ‘maybe it started then,’ and it can go as far back to when I was 11,” Cubero told LATINA. “One of my legs wasn’t working properly so I was hospitalized, but they just couldn’t figure out why and they didn’t really do further testing. And then shortly after, I got miraculously better. And they [were] like, okay, well, you can go.”

According to the National Multiple Sclerosis Society, nearly 1 million people in the United States live with this neurological condition – with most people getting diagnosed between the ages of 20 and 50 years old. However, many patients go undiagnosed and untreated for years, often because their symptoms are attributed to some other condition. This is especially true for people of color like Cubero, who is a New York native of Puerto Rican descent.

Studies indicate that 6 percent of Hispanic/Latinos in the U.S. have a family history of MS but this population accounts for less than 1 percent of all MS studies. “For decades there’s been a common misconception that MS is a young, white woman’s disease but on the contrary some studies suggest that Hispanic/Latinx people living with MS may develop the disease earlier and experience greater disability compared to white people with MS,” neurologist and MS expert Dr. Mitzi Joi Williams told LATINA. “This community has also historically been underdiagnosed and undertreated.”

Dr. Williams is currently working with Genentech on the first-ever Phase IV CHIMES study focused on Black and Latino individuals with MS to increase awareness within the medical community of how MS impacts these demographics. “Research points to complex health inequities tied to cultural differences, social determinants of health, and gaps in cultural competency in the healthcare workforce as potential roadblocks for Hispanic/Latinx people with MS accessing appropriate care and treatment in a timely manner,” Dr. Williams said. “To overcome these challenges, it’s so important for Hispanic/Latinx people living with MS to advocate for themselves and their health. Be open and honest with your healthcare team so you can get the care you need.”

For Cubero, one of the barriers to receiving a diagnosis was navigating the insurance system. “I think one of the hardest things for me was understanding my insurance and where I can get coverage. I was born and raised in the Lower East Side and I thought the only place I could go would be the [clinic] near me,” she said.

MS can manifest in many different ways, depending on the type, but symptoms may include fatigue, limb numbness, and mood changes. Cubero has relapsing remitting MS which means that her symptoms come and go, and with every episode the damage to her nervous system can get worse. Because of demand, Cubero would wait months to get a medical appointment to address often debilitating flare-ups. By the time she would finally be seen, her symptoms would have subsided, and doctors would dismiss her ailments. “To be dismissed, like, no, you’re fine, or not do further testing to really see [what was going on], was a big struggle for me.”

Cubero describes her MS journey as “all over the place” but every single one of those experiences empowered her to share her story on social media under the name Lina Light. “I was diagnosed in 2020, but I was searching for answers for years, so I had a story to tell. And I like to connect with other people who live at MS to support each other,” she said.

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On top of sharing resources, Cubero makes music inspired by her experience with MS – something she started in college as part of a spoken word and poetry collective for people of color. One of her first songs was about MS lesions, which she says was “an interesting, cool way to educate people.” Her music was part of Genentech’s social media campaign #MSVisibility: Breaking Barriers / Rompiendo Barreras to highlight the unique experiences of Latinos with MS.

Music soon became a creative outlet for Cubero, helping her cope with MS and the mental struggles that come with living with an “invisible illness.” “Just by looking at someone you may not know they have MS or what they’re struggling with. I’ve heard so many times, ‘you don’t look sick!’ even from the doctors themselves,” Cubero said. “I’ve been told for many years that what I was experiencing was anxiety, and while I was diagnosed with anxiety as well, I also had MS and just didn’t know. It’s not always so simple. There can be a lot going on with a person. They could have multiple illnesses, they can have multiple things going on in their life, period.”

She is now happy to use art and creativity to spread awareness about MS, but she also aims to increase visibility of how this condition affects the Latino community, specifically. Cubero encourages Latinos with MS to participate in research studies. “If you’re able to and you’re interested, look online for clinical trials or just research studies — some are as simple as a survey — so that there’s more Latinos in the demographic of the studies.”

Alejandra Arevalo is a Peruvian multimedia journalist based in New York covering the music industry at Chartmetric.

The pandemic came with drastic changes to Omi Hopper’s career plans. The Puerto Rico native had been working as a makeup artist, but the lockdown prompted her to trade her brushes for cooking pots. She had always enjoyed cooking, but when she began filming the process and sharing it on social media, she discovered a new sense of purpose. “It was a way to connect with the outside world, I never expected it to go viral. I would say I’m an incidental social media creator,” Hopper told LATINA.

Talking en español and being unapologetically herself, Hopper went viral by explaining Puerto Rican culinary staples on her channels. She currently has more than 558K followers on TikTok, 318K on Instagram and 61K subscribers on YouTube. Her social media popularity earned her a spot on the currently-airing second season of Next Level Chef, a cooking competition show hosted by Gordon Ramsay.

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A post shared by Omi Hopper 🇵🇷 (@cooking_con_omi)

Hopper was born in Puerto Rico but moved to Rhode Island when she was eleven. She would often go back to the island to spend time with her family, and food was a way to stay connected with them. “It’s one of my fondest memories, being in the assembly line, making pasteles with my whole family,” Hopper said. While she went viral for showing her love for plantains on Next Level Chef, her true favorite ingredients are viandas because they are part of her favorite childhood dish, viandas con bacalao. “After I moved [to the U.S.], every time I would go back to visit my family, I would be received with this dish, so it’s very special to me.”

The social media chef became known for frequently mentioning “mi sofrito fresquecito,” a paste made of cilantro, coriander, garlic, onions, aji dulce and bell peppers, all blended together to serve as base for most Puerto Rican dishes. Her sofrito, as well as many of her recipes, are inspired by her late grandmother who she remembers with love and admiration. “I remember her always being so joyful, she would do everything with alegría. Ella era el party,” Hopper recounted.

Hopper continues her grandma’s legacy through her cuisine, and she had a very emotional moment on Next Level Chef when she won a challenge for a dish inspired by her grandma. “It was really special for me to see [Ramsay] try the dish and feel the way he felt,” Hopper said.

@cookingconomi WOW, Anoche fue como vivir un sueño… El apoyo y el calor de mi gente es contundente 🙏🏽🇵🇷🫶🏽 @grillers_pr Gracias por ser el anfitrión perfecto para mi Watch Party en Orlando 🙏🏽 me llevo uno de los mejores recuerdos de toda este experiencia @foodclubfox #nextlevelchef ♬ original sound – omi

It’s been a busy spring for Hopper, traveling across the country hosting Next Level Chef watch parties in Florida, New York, and Puerto Rico. She’s also participated in a Women’s History Month dinner in partnership with social media chef Andrew Rea from Binging with Babish and The Singleton Whisky. She’s been really happy to use her platform and this experience to uplift Puerto Rican cuisine and to inspire more Caribbean women and Latinas to share their cultural heritage through food.

“Latinas, we cook from the heart. In the kitchen, others might get in their head and complicate things that don’t need to be that complicated,” Hopper said. “Cooking with the heart is what we bring to the table.”

Check out Chef Omi’s cocktail recipe: “Cameron’s Kick Con Pasión”

Cameron’s Kick con Pasión

Serves 1
Ingredients:

1 ounce Singleton 12 Year Old
½ ounce Passionfruit Juice
½ ounce Fresh-squeezed Lemon Juice
½ ounce Orgeat

Glassware: Coupe glass / Nick and Nora glass

Method:

Pour ingredients into a cocktail shaker; fill with ice and shake well
Strain into a chilled Nick and Nora glass.
Garnish with Lemon twist

created by Omi Hopper

Alejandra Arevalo is a Peruvian multimedia journalist based in New York covering the music industry at Chartmetric.

From hunger to human trafficking, migrants from Latin America traveling by land to the United States face innumerable challenges in hopes of securing a better future. However, along the harrowing and often deadly journey, a beacon of hope glimmers in the town of La Patrona, Veracruz, Mexico. This tiny town, almost too small to pinpoint on a map, is home to Las Patronas, a volunteer-run organization that provides food, supplies, and shelter to U.S.- bound migrants.

It was 1995 when the Romero Vásquez sisters went on a routine grocery store run and were stopped on their way back home by the crossing of La Bestia, a line of freight trains that travel from southern Mexico to the U.S. border. Hundreds of migrants climb onto La Bestia every day, risking their lives by hanging from the sides and top of the wagons as they carry them North. As they were waiting for the train to pass by, the sisters noticed the migrants people pleading for food and water. Without second guessing, the sisters tossed them their produce and returned home empty-handed. They expected their mother to get mad, but after hearing their story, their mother encouraged them to continue with this task. The women didn’t know then how that moment would change their lives — and those of thousands of migrants (and roughly 800 per day) — forever.

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“To me, this is a mission. I feel like I was looking to serve God through people, in this case it was migrants. They are part of my life these days and all these years we’ve spent together,” Norma Romero Vásquez, founding member and spokesperson of Las Patronas, told LATINA.

The task of feeding migrants proved to be more complicated than they first thought. For starters, La Bestia doesn’t have a set schedule, which means it can pass through the town at any time, and additionally, there are never the same number of people onboard. The work is also physically challenging; since the train doesn’t stop, the volunteers have to be standing dangerously close to the train tracks, ready to toss carefully-packed food and supplies to the travelers.

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Throughout the years, Las Patronas have worked to make their operation more efficient, enlisting people in nearby towns to notify them of the next train’s estimated arrival time and number of migrants aboard. At first, Las Patronas supplied food using their own resources, but eight years in, these unsung heroes have finally begun to receive the support and recognition they need. In 2005, a group of students researching Central American migration to the U.S. went to visit Las Patronas and featured them in a documentary made with the support of bishop Raul Vera. Las Patronas gained popularity and soon after, the volunteers were featured on international media and even received a humanitarian award by Mexican president Enrique Peña Nieto for their charity work. Their newfound recognition helped Las Patronas fulfill their dream to build a proper migrant shelter. Many of the people they serve at the shelter suffer from health issues that make it difficult for them to continue on their dangerous trip to the border.

Romero remembers one specific migrant that marked her forever. A 22-year-old man arrived at the shelter, seeking a place to rest. He felt as if he was burning inside and his back hurt so much he was unable to lay on a bed. The volunteers immediately took him to the hospital, where he was diagnosed with severe pneumonia. The doctors weren’t hopeful about his recovery, and in a matter of hours, he passed away. “He came here so that he could die next to someone. We were his only company. I was grieving because we don’t know where his parents are. They might think he forgot about them, when in reality he is gone,” Romero said. “There are really painful stories that make us think our labor can’t stop, because they need us.”

Although Las Patronas are doing admirable, noble work, Romero says that many have criticized them and tried to jeopardize their mission. “The community wasn’t happy with our labor, they said we were crazy. How could we feed criminals who only came to cause harm?” Romero said. “They would even ask our husbands how they could let us interact with foreigners who could make us fall in love and run away with them.”

Romero says she’s lucky that she had full support from her husband and son, who she raised with the same interest in humanitarian work. She hopes that more people get involved and learn about the migration crisis–after all, migration is a global issue that affects all of our lives. As for the future, Romero says Las Patronas will continue their work for the years to come — 365 days a year, no days off — as long as people need their help. “I had the fortune to have parents that taught me the value of sharing,” Romero said. “I feel really lucky because, thank God, I can dedicate my time to humanitarian aid along with my fellow volunteers.”

For more information, to donate to Las Patronas, or to volunteer on-site, email lapatrona.laesperanza@gmail.com.

Alejandra Arevalo is a Peruvian multimedia journalist based in New York covering the music industry at Chartmetric.