Ariana Maestas is a superstar to me. These days I find it hard to be in awe of much of anyone, but Ariana (Ari as she is known to those close to her) is someone I am humbled by constantly. She’s a senior in high school this year, and one of those kids that makes me have hope that kids like her will make this world an ok place.

An activist. A poet. A cook. A traveler. A best friend of her gang of 3 musketeers. A sister. A daughter. Extraordinaire. So when Ari agreed to share her grandmother’s stuffed sopaipilla recipe with me, I got so excited. For we native Texans, sopaipillas are just served with honey. The stuffed sopaipilla is a marvel to me, and a food I discovered only after landing in New Mexico. So here goes…Ari and I talk grandmothers, ceremonial sundancing, food, fragments of memories, and POETRY!!!!!

Aine: Tell me about your grandmother.

Ariana: My grandmother is Manuelita Gonzales and she lives in the East Mountains of Albuquerque.  When we go to Utah to the sundances ever July, everyone calls her “Mamalita.” Everyone knows her even if they don’t know me or my dad.

Aine: Tell me about going to sundance. (Note: Sundance is a religious ceremony performed by Native Americans primarily those from the Plains)

Ariana:  We go every July to Utah. My dad has danced for 7 or 8 years and this year he is going to be a leader. My dad is of Apache descent. I have gone since I was 5 years old, and I have only missed one year. The year I missed I swore I would never miss it again because I regretted missing it.  At the sundance there are the dancers and the supporters. My grandmother and I are supporters. We eat, drink and pray for the dancers. The dance is 4 days long. On tree day we go and get a tree and then there is a huge feast. After this feast at midnight, the dancers stop eating. Then they don’t eat and drink until the 4th day. On the 4th day, they dance during the morning and then we feast again. The dance is not hard to watch until the 3rd day. That is when some of the dancers start to pass out. That is tough to watch.

My grandmother is in her 60s but she knows everyone there. She laughs and jokes with people, and they joke with her and tell her to “stay out of trouble.” But she is always there. The dancers wake up around 5 am and go sweat, and my grandmother is up before them. She is there until the end of the day. She dances strong, and some of the dancers even tell her that she gives them inspiration.

Aine: So what would you say about your grandmother and food?

Ariana: Right now, my grandmother lives alone. But when my dad comes to visit, she makes him all his favorite foods. She makes enchiladas, tortillas and sopaipillas. When I was in 7th or 8th grade, I was taking Spanish class and I had to do a project about food. So I called my grandmother to get her recipe. I made chicken and cheese stuffed sopaipillas and everyone loved them. That’s how I got this recipe.

Aine:  Talk to me about the poem you picked out.

Ariana: This poem I wrote for my poetry class. It’s me. Where I come from and it mentions my grandmother’s sopaipillas which made me think it was perfect for this.

At this point Ariana gives me her poem to read. I read it, and getting misty eyed when I read the lines that reference Katrina. Ariana lived in New Orleans until Hurricane Katrina. I tell her how much her poem moves me.

Ariana:  Thank you. I was 10 years old when I came to New Mexico. Some people say I was too young to remember, but I remember everything. Sometimes I remember things too well. It’s funny what you remember right? I remember we were in this hotel in Tallahassee, Florida. The hotel had fresh-baked cookies 24/7. Every time you went in the lobby, there was a plate of cookies. So you fast forward to maybe last year in Santa Fe, and my friends and I got to stay in a hotel. My friend’s mom went into to pay for the room. She came back out with cookies. The hotel in Santa Fe had cookies. She asked me if I wanted some. I just couldn’t eat them. Everything from what happened came back to me. It’s strange how that happens. Sometimes I remember things that are so random. I remember we were leaving New Orleans. My mom told me to pack so I got a suitcase and I grabbed all these weird things. Pictures off the wall. Weird things that I thought were important. My mom saw what I had packed and said “you don’t need to pack all that. We are only going to be gone a few days.” So my suitcase got emptied of those things. So we don’t have those things now. But that’s in the poem. Where I come from.

I come from…

I come from,

the mixed taste of emotions

brought up sorrow and left out anger

I come from the sound of my baby sister crying and my little brother laughing

I come from the sight of water rising and the culture being washed away

while my mother waits up at night wondering if we’ll be able to go home

I come from the culture of my past and the thought of my future

My mind screams trauma but my future screams success

I come from the smiles of children and the fright of adults

I come from the smell of my grandmas sopapillas

I come from different cultures and mixed emotions

Stuffed Sopaipillas

Ingredients:

4 cups flour

2 teaspoons baking powder

1-2 teaspoon salt

1 CAP full vegetable oil (about 1 tablespoon)

Stuffing of your choice such as: boiled, shredded chicken, cheese, green chile, calabacitas, ground or shredded beef, beans

Directions:

1.  Add the first 4 ingredients and mix

2. Slowly add warm water until dough is formed

3. Roll dough around. Divide dough into 12 balls of dough.

4. Roll out one ball of dough into a circle of good thickness—“not too thick but not too thin”

5. Cut circle into 4 triangles ( cut across the circle as if you were cutting a pizza)

6. Deep fry the triangle n hot oil.

7. Once dough starts to puff and gets slightly brown, flip it over and let the other side fry until it is slightly browned.

8. Remove from oil. Let cool slightly and then cut a slit and put in stuffing of your choice. I like to put in chicken that is shredded and cheese and then put it in the oven for a few minutes to warm and melt the cheese.