Over the past few years, I’ve noticed my ability to speak Spanish has begun to deteriorate as I’ve started to speak the language less and don’t hear it as much in my day-to-day life. Honestly, I am ashamed of it. When I first moved to the United States from Mexico, I never imagined I would stutter when speaking Spanish or struggle to find the right word. And yet, last summer, I noticed this started to happen. When I spoke to my parents or my Spanish-speaking relatives, I noticed that my Spanish wasn’t as smooth as it used to be, and I had trouble translating English words into Spanish seamlessly. When this happened, I decided I needed to take steps to prevent this from getting worse and to stop myself from creating a disconnect with my mother tongue.
I decided the best way to do this would be to consume more Spanish-language media. As I mentioned in a previous article, consuming media in your native language or from your country of origin is a great way to feel connected to your culture, even if you’re thousands of miles away. It is also a great way to practice your first language, which, in my case, is Spanish.
Since I already consume digital media in Spanish, I decided I needed something that would challenge me more: reading in Spanish.
I used TikTok to find Spanish books that would challenge my limited Spanish academic vocabulary, and the one that caught my attention most was Como Agua Para Chocolate by Laura Esquivel (1989).
This story of magical realism follows Tita de la Garza, the youngest of three daughters, and is set in Piedras Negras, Coahuila, around the time of the Mexican Revolution of 1910. Tita is a culinary genius who can captivate those around her with her cooking. The book serves as a diary for Tita, in which each chapter highlights different events in her life, mainly focusing on her forbidden relationship with Pedro Muzquiz. Each chapter highlights and incorporates a traditional Mexican dish into the story.
My Experience
While I was skeptical of the plot during the first few chapters, the story unraveled beautifully. Chocolate talks about motherhood, sisterhood, grief, government injustice, love, and despair. It was the perfect reintroduction to Spanish books for me. The story resonated with me in so many ways.
After finishing the book, I was elated to find out there was a TV series adaptation of Chocolate!
Como Agua Para Chocolate (2024) is an HBO Original production starring Mexican actors Azul Guiata as Tita and Andres Baida as Pedro, with other notable Mexican stars, such as Irene Azuela, Ana Valeria Becerril, and Andrea Chaparro.
I had not heard anything about the series, despite it being released in 2024, and that made me nervous, thinking it might have been a bad adaptation or simply not faithful to the book.
However, as soon as I began watching the show, I was pleasantly surprised by how it was produced.
Each hour-long episode covered one chapter of the book, highlighting the same Mexican dishes featured in it. I personally love when adaptations do this, because not only does it preserve the book timeline, it also gives more space to keep as many events and plot points as possible. As I watched the show, I never felt that any important scene from the book was compromised, and I did not mind most of the book-to-screen changes, as most were not major (until the finale). I loved the way they made Gertrudis, one of Tita’s sisters, a revolutionary woman! She was definitely my favorite character, along with Dr. John Brown and his son, Alex.
Overall, I enjoyed the show. The soundtrack felt true to the show’s aesthetic and the time period it was set in. I loved the symbolism of the food, and it was woven throughout the episodes. Most importantly, I liked that the producers kept the elements of magical realism, like the scene of Tita’s birth, where her tears flood the kitchen and the sky turns gray. Or when Gertrudis is literally burning in flames with passion after trying Tita’s codornices en petalos de rosas (quail in rose petals). There was a good balance with realistic elements that, at times, made me forget the story had any magical realism at all. This made the surreal appearances more enjoyable, and honestly, made the story what it is.
I appreciated that the story was still narrated through Tita’s diary, and we were able to gain insights into what Tita thought.
All the artistic elements of the series made Tita and Pedro’s relationship bearable to watch (sorry, not sorry).
Don’t get me wrong, as a hopeless romantic, I am always rooting for the happy ending where the couple ends up together despite their obstacles, but in this case, I was not rooting for Pedro and Tita. Pedro was a horrible man to Tita (he was a great activist, dad, and justice-seeker, though, so props to him for that!). He just did not deserve Tita at all. On that same note, Tita wasn’t bad until she began playing with Dr. Brown’s feelings. At that point, I just wanted Tita to end up alone.
Which leads me to the last episode.
I was enjoying it, even cried, until Tita and Pedro reunited at Esperanza and Alex’s wedding and ended up together. I wish the series had just ended with everyone at the wedding experiencing liberation and letting go. That was a beautiful scene, because, despite the hardships everyone was going through at the time, Tita’s feeling of freedom was transmitted to everyone and made them feel free too. I wish that had been the ending, making Pedro and Tita’s ending together vaguer and up to interpretation.
Still, I take the story with me. I am so glad I was able to read the book before watching the series, because, while the adaptation was faithful, I wouldn’t have understood many of the underlying messages included on-screen.
Como Agua Para Chocolate was a great reintroduction to Mexican books for me, and I can’t wait to continue reading more books in Spanish.
If you’re in the same boat as me and are struggling to speak your mother tongue, I would highly recommend reading books in that language. And, if you read the book out loud, it will help you practice your current knowledge of the language, retain new advanced vocabulary (as all reading does), and improve your pronunciation. And if you think you won’t be able to understand anything, start with smaller, easier books, and work your way up, translating everything you don’t understand, so you’re actually gaining knowledge!
To end this article, I’ll leave you with a couple of my favorite (roughly translated) quotes from the book!
“Si bien todos nacemos con una caja de cerillos en nuestro interior, no los podemos encender solos, necesitamos, como en el experimento, oxígeno y la ayuda de una vela. Sólo que en este caso el oxígeno tiene que provenir, por ejemplo, del aliento de la persona amada; la vela puede ser cualquier tipo de alimento, música, caricia, palabra o sonido que haga disparar el detonador y así encender uno de los cerillos. Por un momento nos sentiremos deslumbrados por una intensa emoción. Se producirá en nuestro interior un agradable calor que irá desapareciendo poco a poco conforme pase el tiempo, hasta que venga una nueva explosión a reavivarlo.” —Dr. Brown (Chapter 6)
- Translation: Everyone is born with a matchbox inside of us, but we can’t light them alone; we need oxygen and a candle to do it. In this case, oxygen comes from the breath of the person we love. The candle can be any food, music, touch, words, or sound that makes the match strike. For a moment, we’ll feel dazzled with intense emotion. Then, a warm feeling will take over us and gradually fade over time, until a new explosion brings it back to life.
“Durante el entierro, Tita realmente lloró por su madre. Pero no por la mujer castrante que la había reprimido toda la vida, sino por ese ser que había vivido un amor frustrado. Y juró ante su tumba que ella nunca renunciaría al amor, pasara lo que pasara.” (Chapter 7)
- Translation: During the burial, Tita cried for her mother. Not for the suffocating woman who repressed her all of her life, but for the woman with a thwarted love. She swore at her tomb that she would never give love up, no matter what happened.
“Mañana voy a dejar este lugar, pues no es el que me pertenece. Aún no sé cuál será, pero sé que en alguna parte tengo que encontrar un sitio adecuado para mí.” —Gertrudis (Chapter 7)
- Translation: I’m leaving tomorrow because this isn’t the place I belong. I don’t know where I will belong, but I know I will find somewhere right for me.