Category Archives: Summer 2025

“Recetario Soberano”: Defending Sovereignty One Recipe at a Time

By Ángel Tuninetti and the Centro de Estudios Heñói Team

Paraguay is a poster case for the damage that industrial agriculture can cause on food security and food sovereignty. The landlocked South American country was almost self-sufficient in food production until the 1990s, mainly thanks to the diversified crops and animal production of the fincas campesinas [small peasant farms]. 

Then, in 1996, GMO soybeans were introduced, and with them, an industrial agricultural model aimed at the production of commodities, followed later by other GMO crops, such as corn, rice, and wheat.  Now the country depends on the import of vegetables and fruits, since 95% of the cultivated lands are dedicated to genetically modified crops for export. This production involves the use of 60 million liters of pesticides per year (10 liters per inhabitant), and is defended by mercenaries, the police, the army and the judicial apparatus. This is a war for the future of Paraguayan people and their right to food sovereignty.

To defend the right of the Paraguayan people to their food sovereignty and their culture, the Centro de Estudios Heñói, a small NGO based in Asuncion, produces and publishes its Recetario Soberano. It consists in collecting and rescuing traditional peasant and indigenous recipes kept alive and transmitted from generation to generation, but that are not part of the typical Paraguayan fare that you will find in recipe books and traditional restaurants.

How are traditional indigenous and peasant recipes rescued?

Through a process in which we seek to understand the cultural significance of recipes, linking them to their roots, memories, and their socioeconomic, political, and symbolic history for the communities.

The process of recovering traditional recipes starts with interviews with Indigenous and peasant leaders to capture their stories and memories, recording them through audiovisual media, and capturing the recipe preparation in their environment, as a communal event. The communities have embraced the project, and their leaders recognize the importance of their culinary traditions, such as the ingredients from the Chaco region, often not included in the “official” Paraguayan gastronomy. As Ana Romero, a young leader from the Kemha Yat Sepo, of the Enxet People,  said, “in the Chaco, the indigenous food traditions of the peoples continue to be practiced, but we are a diversity of peoples, territories, and foods. In the Alto Chaco, we do have similarities in our food system; we are based on tuna, algarroba, mistol, and chili peppers.”

Ramón Medina, a leader from Kamba Kua, Pilar, emphasized the importance of community: “It is important to preserve not only the traditional food or recipes of Paraguay. But also, the entire history of community building, solidarity, sharing, inviting one another, the grand gesture of inviting one another. People liked and were happy to invite and be invited by others”.

Image Credit: Heñói.

Food sovereignty is intrinsically tied to land rights. As Mario Rivarola, the leader of the Mby’a community of Hugua Po’i, Caaguazú, pointed out, “to recover these typical foods of the Mbyá peoples, we need to recover the land to recover the Mby’a traditions and culture. That is the responsibility of the State, to comply with and enforce the national and international regulations that guarantee access to our ancestral territories”.

The first two recipes rescued

Chipa Manduvi

Image credit: Heñói

Ingredients: Corn flour, roasted and ground peanuts, cassava starch, milk, salt.

Preparation: Mix the corn flour, ground peanuts, and cassava starch in a large bowl. Add the salt and mix well. Add the milk little by little, kneading until you get a smooth, even dough. The amount of milk may vary, so add it gradually until the dough has the right consistency. Form the chipas and place them in a baking dish on banana leaves. Bake in a tatakúa (traditional brick oven) or preheated oven.

 

Ka’i Ku’a

Ingredients: Corn with husks, fresh Paraguay cheese, pork lard, milk

Image credit: Heñói

Preparation: Remove the husks from the corn, wash, and set aside. Remove the kernels from the corn and ground with a mill. Mix the ground corn with the Paraguay cheese, pork lard, and salt until you get a smooth dough. Pour the mixture into each husk, close it, and tie it at the ends and in the middle, forming the characteristic “monkey waist.” Place the husks in a pot with enough water. Let it boil for about 30 minutes. Remove and serve.

Image credit: Heñói

Why work to recover these recipes?

First, because we are aware of the problems of food on a national and global scale. These include the loss of food sovereignty, understood as the human right and self-determination of peoples to healthy and culturally appropriate food, as declared by La Vía Campesina. Peasant and indigenous communities have the right to eat what they want and have eaten traditionally, but the current food production system is dismantling their capacities for resistance because of the destruction of biocultural corridors, due to the relentless advance of agricultural, livestock, and forestry extractivism on their lands and territories. Inadequate nutrition has also meant increased deaths from chronic non-communicable diseases like obesity, diabetes, and hypertension.

Secondly, because we want to question what is Paraguayan gastronomy. In local literature, what is generally referred as “Paraguayan cuisine or gastronomy,” includes recipes that are assumed to be traditional without questioning the colonial heritage they often possess. This general idea of ​​Paraguayan gastronomy recipes is separated from the productive and creative labor behind the raw materials, the utensils, the culinary recipe itself, and the significance that all of these have for the organization and structuring of Indigenous and peasant communities. In other words, vorí vorí, sopa paraguaya, locro, and jopara, understood to be the intangible cultural heritage of Paraguay, could not exist without the productive Indigenous and peasant labor behind them. The  “typical Paraguayan fare” you would find at a traditional restaurant or food fair often excludes the diversity and richness of the culinary art developed in different Indigenous and peasant territories.

Our approach recovers the meaning that Indigenous and peasant communities give to food, to specific recipes, and to their relationship with nature, culture, society, the economy, and the power relations that permeate the ways in which food is produced, distributed, and consumed. 

Image credit: Heñói

In a country ravaged by extractivism, preserving and promoting ancestral cooking is an imperative to save traditional cultures and promote community building.

Recipes as Pedagogical Resistance: Teaching Food Writing in an AI-Era

By Bonnie Shishko and Shawn Bowers 

As college professors with three combined decades of First-Year Writing experience, we’re observing two unsettling trends: first, that traditional undergraduate students are increasingly unlikely to tackle academic writing without relying on AI-tools, and second, that they are increasingly likely to hold rigid beliefs about writing—what it is, what it can do, and what it should sound and look like. As a result, we’re noting a third phenomenon: in the face of machine-generated content, students don’t trust their own voices.  

And why should they? As products of an educational system that standardizes and quantifies learning, it makes sense that many students view writing as an output—one to be assessed through binary lenses of good/bad, right/wrong.  

Enter generative-AI, which capitalizes on learned beliefs that “good” academic writing conforms to a prescribed formula and that the goal of writing is not to learn, but to efficiently produce the “right” answer in service of a grade. But writing is much like cooking; the process is vital to the product. Both writing and cooking are iterative and messy; words, like ingredients, often refuse to come together. They demand patience, humility, and the willingness to make mistakes. And, as any experienced cook knows, the courage to deviate from the recipe’s formula, and to defy its discursive authority in favor of our own instincts.  

But let us not forget, the recipe is a technology, and one not unlike gen-AI. Derived from the Latin imperative “recipere,” meaning “to take or receive,” the word “recipe” dates back at least to the fourteenth century and was used by alchemists and domestic cooks to denote not a finished text but a “method of preparation,” or steps that, if followed, promised reliable outcomes (Notaker 144, 146-7). However, despite its steady move towards discursive efficiency and culinary standardization in the hands of nineteenth-century British writers Eliza Acton and Isabella Beeton, recipes, unlike gen-AI, have always recorded the personal, the human, and even the body itself. As Kyla Tompkins puts it, beneath a recipe lies “a field of embodied knowledges, movements, flavors, smells, gestures, and habits that is only hinted at by [the recipe’s] own textual remains” (442). From kitchens in early modern British households to college classrooms, recipes, as technology, have the power to do what gen-AI cannot: “register the creative, intellectual, and social exchanges . . . of people trying to make sense of their worlds” (Wendy Wall xii). 

And so, to our students’ surprise, we tasked them with writing a mini-cookbook for their first college writing assignment. As we explain in the prompt, “Like cookbooks themselves, ‘we contain multitudes’ (Ferguson 33). We are human beings; our identities are many, and our food traditions and tastes are shaped by these identities.” To complete the project, students sourced three recipes reflective of different intersections of their identities. Collected recipes became personal narrative once surrounded by carefully-curated paratexts: treasured family photos, marginal notes, recipe annotations, personal anecdotes. (For Jolie Braun’s experience teaching with community cookbooks, see her post here.)

Recipe Entry, Student Mini-Cookbook, 2024. Queen’s University of Charlotte student (image included with permission.)

To prepare, we studied the historical evolution of the cookbook. Beeton’s Book of Household Management (1859) taught us that standardizing the recipe form played a key role in the historical construction of white, middle-class femininity. Toni Tipton-Martin’s Jubilee (2019), on the other hand, uses the recipe as record, reclaiming African foodways erased by the slave trade.  

Inspired by these examples and others such as Vertamae Smart-Grosvener’s Vibration Cooking (1970), students did so much more than collect recipes; they wrote to understand themselves. Their collections centered beloved family traditions such as tailgating, commemorated lost loved ones, confronted traumatic memories of disordered eating, and recorded holiday traditions that bridged linguistic and geographic homeplaces. 

Cover, Student Mini-Cookbook, 2024. Queens University of Charlotte (image included with permission).

Writing about food invited students to discover and negotiate the complicated, sometimes painful, and sometimes joyful intersections between food, one’s past, and who one wishes to become; to legitimize and honor memories, emotions, cultural heritages, languages of origin, and embodied knowledges at risk of being lost.  

This is writing gen-AI cannot manufacture. Indeed, as one student put it: 

My favorite part of this assignment was being able to express myself in a way I had never experienced. Linking food to myself, and the various aspects of my identity or memories opened my mind to different ways people can express themselves. The only genuine struggle I had within this was overcoming the heavy emotions that I was trying to convey. At first, I experienced an emotional block, in which all my emotions related to the assignment seemed non-existent. This obviously limited the vulnerable aspect of my cookbook I have grown much pride in. The project has truly been a joy to complete, and I would gladly do it again. 

AI- writing erases linguistic differences and generates composite knowledge in service of expedience and transaction. Cookbook-writing, in contrast, opens space for abundance by resisting dominant literacies. In joining this tradition, students learned to recognize writing as a vital act—of remembering, of re-claiming, of resistance. 


Bonnie Shishko is Assistant Professor of English at Queens University of Charlotte, where she teaches courses on nineteenth-century literature and First-Year Writing. Her teaching and research focus on the intersection of gender, sexuality, dis/ability, and food in Victorian and contemporary women’s writing. Her work on recipes and their history has appeared or is forthcoming in Studies in the Novel, Victorians Institute Journal, the edited collections Elizabeth Robins Pennell: Critical Essays (Edinburgh University Press) and Teaching Food in Literature (MLA Press), as well as Journal of Victorian Culture Online and The Recipes Project. She enjoys all things pickled and discovering new ways to make the tastiest tomato sandwich.   

Shawn Bowers is Associate Professor at Queens University of Charlotte where she teaches courses on creative writing, Latinx literature, and First-Year Writing and currently serves as the director of General Education for the university. She holds an MFA in Creative Writing from Queens. Under the pen name Anita Cantillo, Shawn has published poetry in Borderlands: Texas Poetry Review, Juke Joint, Blue Mesa Review, and Azahares, among other journals. Her favorite food is tamales from her beloved homeland of Costa Rica.  


Works Cited

Beeton, Isabella. Book of Household Management. London: S.O. Beeton, 1861. 

Kelly, Rhea. “Survey: 86% of Students Already Use AI in Their Studies.” Campus Technology. 28, (2024): https://campustechnology.com/articles/2024/08/28/survey-86-of-students-already-use-ai-in-their-studies.aspx.  

Notaker, Henry. A History of Cookbooks: from Kitchen to Page Over Seven Centuries. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2017. 

Smart-Grosvenor, Vertamae. Vibration Cooking: Or, the Travel Notes of a Geeche Girl. Athens: University of Georgia Press, 1970.  

Tipton-Martin, Toni. Jubilee: Recipes From Two Centuries of African American Cooking. New York: Clarkson Potter, 2019. 

Tompkins, Kyla. “Consider the Recipe.” J19: The Journal of Nineteenth-Century Americanists. 1,2 (2013): 439-445. 

Wall, Wendy. Recipes for Thought: Knowledge and Taste in the Early Modern Kitchen. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2015.