Tag: CreativeCuisine

  • Get to Know Me: The Unfiltered Version

    Get to Know Me: The Unfiltered Version

    Look, I could give you the polished LinkedIn version of who I am, but that’s boring as fuck. So here’s the real tea about Génesis Michelle Rivera Candelaria– the person behind the events, the hustle, and the carefully curated Instagram grid.

    The Professional Fuck-Up That Changed Everything

    My biggest professional mistake? Launching the first Sobremesa Chicago event in Puerto Rico – after years of successful events in Chicago – thinking my friends would show up and spread the word. Spoiler alert: they didn’t. The event flopped hard. Nobody came.

    What I learned: Your friends and acquaintances aren’t always your first fans. Sometimes strangers become your most fierce supporters before the people closest to you even pay attention. That’s just how it is.

    The Cultural Contradictions

    What pisses me off: When I say I’m from Puerto Rico and people respond with “ahhh pueLto lico” in that fake accent. We don’t talk like that, fuckers.

    What secretly applies to me: Speaking Spanglish constantly. Can’t help it, won’t apologize for it.

    What I miss from Chicago when I’m in PR: The weather (that perfect 50-75 degrees WITH sun), the food scene, walking everywhere, and that magnificent public transportation system.

    What I miss from PR when I’m in Chicago: The people, the language, the beach, my friends, my family. Todo.

    The Random Shit You Didn’t Ask For

    I talk to myself. All the time. And whenever I can, when I buy food for myself, I try to get something extra to give to someone on the street who needs it.

    My guilty pleasure? El Señor de los Cielos. I’ve watched it so many times I can tell you what season any random episode is from. Aurelio and Rutila Casillas are my people.

    Current rotation: Salsa, Gustavo Cerati, and Bad Bunny. That’s the vibe.

    My one useless talent: Knowing random facts about… everything? I think that’s it.

    Hot Takes That’ll Make Me Enemies

    On the events industry:

    ∙ Low salaries for everything we actually do

    ∙ This myth that you need connections to grow (it helps, but it’s not everything)

    ∙ The “go go go” culture and the refusal to let people rest

    Job posting red flags that make me close the tab immediately:

    ∙ “We’re like a family” (translation: we’ll guilt you into unpaid overtime)

    ∙ No salary listed

    ∙ Any indication they don’t believe in work/life balance

    What Actually Matters

    Here’s something that doesn’t come up in normal conversations or on LinkedIn: I care so much about people. Like, deeply.

    My dream? Having a nonprofit to feed kids and help pass laws ensuring school meals are nutritionally good. A kid shouldn’t spend all day thinking about not having food at home, worrying that their only meal is what they get at school. They should have nutritious breakfast and lunch. It shouldn’t be like this.

    The Future I’m Manifesting

    Picture this: I’m in Puerto Rico, looking out at the beach with mountains in the background. It’s morning – soft, slow. I’m reading emails with my second coffee of the day, planning out what’s most important versus what’s least urgent.

    I’m running a global food business from the island, operating para el mundo. I’m alone in that moment, but backed by a battalion of mentors and entrepreneurs who came before me.

    The version of myself I’m most afraid of becoming? Not this one. The opposite of this one.

    My Event Philosophy

    Keep people happy, respect the budget, and don’t let them see you sweat.

    It sounds simple, but it’s everything. The organization, being clear from the beginning, getting the right people for the event’s objectives – that’s what I learned from 7+ years and 50+ events. From intimate dinners to programs with 1,000+ attendees.

    Advice to Past Me

    To the Génesis from 9 years ago who was just starting with events: Try to absorb everything you can about advertising, logistics, vendors, all of it. Try all the trends. And for fuck’s sake, ask for help.

    The Essentials

    Comfort food/celebration food/hangover food: Pizza. Tavern style for sure. Never deep dish (sorrry chicago🙃)

    Most overrated fancy food: Caviar. Fight me.

    If I could only eat at one Chicago restaurant forever: Lula Cafe.

    Death row meal: Arroz blanco con picadillo, aguacate, and ají amarillo hot sauce.

    Downtime activity that looks productive but isn’t: Writing. It’s how I disconnect.

    Last book I read: Re-reading El Libro de los Abrazos by Eduardo Galeano.

    The Bottom Line

    I’m a bilingual logistics and events consultant who’s done everything from managing national conferences to coordinating crisis response during a pandemic. I’ve built event operations from scratch, scaled underground dinners into cultural movements, and somehow always made it look easy (even when it absolutely wasn’t).

    I’m currently freelancing, job searching, and building something bigger than myself. I operate between two worlds – Chicago and Puerto Rico – and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

    The question people ask me most in networking that I’m tired of? I don’t even know anymore. But whatever it is, I’ll still answer it with a smile because that’s the job.

    That’s me. No filter, no bullshit. Just Génesis. Graciass por leerme.

    Besitos 😘

    G

  • 104 horas en Puerto Rico

    104 horas en Puerto Rico

    Una mirada funky y honesta a cómo el jangueo boricua pasó de ser épico a una misión imposible, con nostalgia, humor y sabor boricua.

    Imagina esto: llegas a Puerto Rico con la mentalidad de “¡La calle me llamaaa y la garganta me pica!” porque, claro, el boricua en la diáspora vive con la ilusión de que el jangueo aquí sigue siendo tan épico como lo era antes del 2017. Spoiler alert: no lo es. Pero, si buscas un jangueo decente, un shoutout a Bar 0.2 por mantener viva la esperanza de buena música, buenos tragos y esa vibra que nos recuerda que todavía queda algo del viejo Puerto Rico.

    Ahora, si eres trentón y quieres caminar un poquito más, el jangueo empieza en la primera parte de La Cerra y sigue hasta llegar a ALAS 🪽😉 el que sabe, sabe —

    El night life está en coma, y no es por culpa de la inflación ni del reguetón de TikTok. Fue María quien dio el primer puño al hígado y Miguel Romero con su dichoso código municipal quien lo enterró seis pies bajo tierra. Porque claro, ¿qué mejor manera de revivir la economía que matando los negocios nocturnos con multas ridículas y regulaciones absurdas?

    ¿Y qué hay de la comida late-night? Antes, era normal encontrarte un pincho a cualquier hora, pero ahora, después de las 9:30 p.m., la vida culinaria es un chiste malo. ¿Quieres un buen late night snack? Amigo, NO, tienes que ser madrugador porque, al parecer, comer después de las 10:00 p.m. es un crimen federal en esta isla. Si te da hambre después del jangueo, las opciones confiables son contadas, como el BK de la 18* o un clásico de clásicos: Los Pinos, el lugar donde las conversaciones filosóficas y el arroz con habichuelas a las 2:00 a.m. van de la mano.

    Extraño ver el sol salir en Aqua (again, el que sabe, sabe). Ni hablar de los lunes de salsa en La Factoría con Héctor Tempo y Roberto Roena (que en la luz estén descansando).

    Estas 104 horas en Puerto Rico me han hecho reflexionar seriamente sobre el jangueo boricua que alguna vez conocí y amé. ¿Dónde quedó esa vibra de chinchorrear hasta que salga el sol? Entre apagones, regulaciones municipales, y la falta de buena comida nocturna, siento que el espíritu del jangueo murió, y ni el ron más barato lo puede resucitar.

    Pero, ¿sabes qué? Aunque estemos jangueando con linternas y comiendo tostones fríos en el carro,

    ser boricua es eso: hacer magia con lo que hay.

    Porque aunque nos quiten la noche, el día siempre llega con sabor a café y revolú. ¿El problema? Nos quitaron el jangueo pero nunca el espíritu indomable.

    Graciasss por leer mi rant 🤭

    Besiss 😽

    Génesis ❣️

  • The Good, The Bad, and The Spicy Secrets of Running Food Pop-Ups in Chicago

    The Good, The Bad, and The Spicy Secrets of Running Food Pop-Ups in Chicago

    How Creativity, Hustle, and a Little Heat Shape Chicago’s Food Pop-Up Scene

    Running a food pop-up is exciting—it’s a mix of chaos, creativity, and yes, a little heat! In a city like Chicago, where people expect bold flavors and unforgettable experiences, every pop-up feels like a performance. My journey started in 2016 with Sobremesa Chicago, where we always brought BBQ, sazón, and our secret sauce: Ají Sobremesa. While the sauce got people talking, it was consistency that kept them coming back. But here’s the spicy truth: running a pop-up isn’t just about great food. It’s about sweating it out—carrying all the equipment, finding the right venue, and making it work, even when there’s no kitchen. That’s where the real magic (and madness) happens.

    The Good: Creativity Unleashed

    Pop-ups are great for creativity. Chefs get to break free from the usual restaurant setting, where menus and costs control everything. With pop-ups, you can try new dishes, mix bold flavors, and give people something they’ve never tasted before. At Sobremesa Chicago, we packed every plate with tropical, happy vibes and spicy Latin flavors. From the kick of our Ají Sobremesa to the sazón from chefs like Gabriel Moya, José Zayas, and sous chef Efrén Candelaria (best rice cooker😉) we wanted each bite to bring the heat.

    Pop-ups let you surprise people. In Chicago, diners crave not just food but the experience. Pop-ups let them in on the secret, the spicy adventure. Whether you’re serving from a back alley in Pilsen or a patio at SleepingVillage, every dish tells a story.

    The Bad: The Hustle is Real

    Now for the hard (and sweaty) part: the grind. Running a pop-up will make you sweat—literally. It’s not just about cooking. You have to find a venue, figure out where to cook (and hope there’s a kitchen), and carry everything—tables, grills, propane—across the city. Sometimes you’re lucky and have a good setup, but most of the time, you make it work with whatever you have. That’s the hustle diners don’t see, but it’s what makes pop-ups special. The grind is spicy and real.

    Finding new customers is tough too. But word of mouth? That’s gold. Consistency and people talking about you—that’s the key. For Sobremesa, it wasn’t just about serving good food once. It was about showing up every time and bringing the heat. Pop-ups grow when people say, “You have to try this.

    The Ugly: Burnout and Unpredictability

    Running a pop-up is exhausting—and can be a total burn-out if you’re not careful. The unpredictability can make you sweat even more. Sometimes the perfect venue falls apart last minute, or you run out of food too early because the crowd was way bigger than expected. And when there’s no kitchen—ay ay ay! It’s hot, messy, and pure chaos.

    But here’s the spicy truth: even with all that heat, the most beautiful moments happen when it works. The regulars who show up, the friends who help, the strangers who come for the food but stay for the experience—these are the connections that keep you going. I’ll never forget when I’d visit other restaurants and hear, “Are you part of the yellow sauce crew? What’s in that sauce?” That’s when you know your food has left a lasting mark.

    The Chicago Factor: A City That Loves Its Food

    Chicago is the perfect city for pop-ups. People here love good food, but they also want something different—something with a bit of spice. Pop-ups work because they break the norms. Every neighborhood—from Logan Square to Pilsen—gives a unique backdrop for creative food experiences. It’s not just about the food; it’s about building a community.

    For Sobremesa Chicago, it wasn’t just about serving Latin-inspired dishes. It was about the vibe. Our pop-ups were tropical, warm, and full of shared meals with a spicy kick. Every dish had a story, and that’s what people loved—not just the food, but the feeling of being part of something bigger.

    The Memorable Moments: The Heart of Pop-Ups

    Anyone who’s worked in pop-ups will tell you: the little moments make it all worth it. Anytime tío Efren took the mic, the energy in the room lit up. And every 4th of July party? Pure magic 🪄✨ (viva PR 🇵🇷 libre thou’). These events weren’t just about food—they were gatherings where strangers became friends, and friends became family. We found hidden gems in Chicago’s food scene, learned from farm-to-table experiences, and built connections that last (special s/o Farm Butcher Tables 🐖)

    These moments—where everything makes sense—are why pop-ups, with all their spice and chaos, leave such a lasting impact.

    Conclusion: Embrace the Madness (and the Spice)

    Running a pop-up is not easy. It’s chaotic, spicy, and unpredictable. But it’s also exciting. For anyone thinking of starting a pop-up, my advice is simple: enjoy the process. It goes by fast, and in a world where eating out can be expensive, creating a community through food is priceless.

    The pop-up world is wild, messy, and full of heat—but that’s exactly what makes it beautiful.

    Besiss🥰
    Génesis ❤️‍🔥🔥

    Arroz Chaufa —
    is a fried rice dish from Peru
    José Zayas Del Río
    Sleeping Village.
    October 2019