Bruno Valderrábano
Covers culinary and lifestyle stories across the Americas for El Gazettario.

Encebollado: Ecuador's Beloved Fish & Yuca Soup
Long before the sun fully clears the Andes, the aroma of encebollado already drifts through the markets of Guayaquil and the fishing stalls of Manta. Steam rises from battered pots, carrying notes of cumin, cilantro, and the briny sweetness of fresh albacore. Vendors ladle the soup into bowls with the practiced rhythm of a ritual repeated daily for generations, and customers—students, taxi drivers, office workers, and the occasional night owl nursing a late evening—line up without hesitation.
Cuban Ropa Vieja: Classic Shredded Beef in Tomato Sauce
In the warm, salt-tinged air of Havana, few aromas stir the appetite quite like the slow, savory simmer of Ropa Vieja drifting from an open kitchen window. This is a dish that doesn't rush — it unfolds over hours, the beef softening until it falls apart at the touch of a fork, the sauce deepening into something both bright and comforting. It is the smell of Sunday afternoons, of grandmothers stirring cast-iron pots, of a culture that turns humble ingredients into something worth gathering around the table for.

Gallo Pinto: Costa Rica's Beloved Rice and Beans
Before the sun has fully cleared the volcanic ridges of the Central Valley, kitchens across Costa Rica are already filled with the sound of a wooden spoon scraping against a cast-iron skillet. This is the sound of Gallo Pinto being born again, as it is every single morning, in homes from San José's bustling barrios to the quiet coffee farms of Tarrazú. It is not simply breakfast here; it is a ritual, a birthright, a dish so woven into daily life that Costa Ricans often eat it without a second thought, the way one breathes.

Ajiaco Santafereño: Bogotá's Soul-Warming Chicken Stew
High in the Andean savanna, where the air turns crisp and the afternoon mist rolls over red-tiled rooftops, there is one dish that every bogotano craves when the cold settles into their bones: ajiaco santafereño. It is not merely soup — it is a ritual, a bowl of golden broth thick with three kinds of potato, tender shredded chicken, and sweet corn on the cob, finished tableside with a dollop of heavy cream, a scatter of capers, and half an avocado waiting patiently at the rim of the plate.