Un Lugar en la mesa
by Carla Garcia, Partner Engagement Director
In Mexico, you don’t just say “thank you.”
You invite someone to your table.
You make space. You warm tortillas. You stir the pot a little longer. You serve the best portion to your guest before serving yourself. In my culture, sharing a meal is one of the most sacred ways we express gratitude. It says: I’m thankful for you.
Some of my most meaningful memories are around a table: laughter echoing off kitchen walls, hands passing plates, stories flowing as freely as the salsa. Food isn’t just food in Mexico. It carries history. It carries sacrifice. It carries love. Recipes are not simply instructions, they are inheritance.
One of those inheritances for me is costillitas en salsa verde.
I learned how to make salsa before I even learned to write in cursive. I remember standing on a chair to reach the counter, watching and then helping: tomatillos, tomates, chiles, cebolla, a pinch of cominos, salt, all coming together in a molcajete or sometimes a blender. The sound of the stone grinding ingredients together is something I can still hear if I close my eyes. It wasn’t fancy. It was simple. But somehow, it turned into something completely delicious.
At first for me, salsa was just what we spooned over tacos, tostadas, or quesadillas. It was bright and fresh and always on the table. But much later, I learned that salsa wasn’t just a topping, it was the heart of so many guisados or stews. It could transform simple ingredients into something rich and comforting.
One of my mom’s specialties was costillitas en chile verde, a stew of tender pork spare ribs simmered slowly in a spicy green salsa. The kitchen would fill with the smell of roasted tomatillos and chiles, the warmth of cumin blooming in the pan, the steady bubbling of the pot as the meat softened and absorbed every layer of flavor. It was the kind of meal that meant we were all sitting down together. No rushing. No distractions. Just warm tortillas, a pot in the center of the table, and my brothers being the first to reach in.
And we made it when there was money and when there wasn’t.
When we could afford pork, it was costillitas. When we couldn’t, we swapped the ribs for nopales or cactus pads. The same salsa. The same love. The dish changed, but the meaning never did. That pot on the stove still meant we would gather. We would share. We would make do. We would be grateful.
Costillitas en salsas verde has always tasted like home. Like my mother’s love.
It’s amazing how something as humble as pork ribs, cactus, and green salsa can carry so much meaning. But that’s what immigrant kitchens do, they turn ordinary ingredients into something truly extraordinary.
That is why on Friday, March 27 at 5:00PM, we are gathering for something deeply special.
At Epic Clay Studios (609 N 6th St, Kansas City, KS 66101), we will host a fundraising event that is more than an evening out, it is an invitation to Un Lugar en la Mesa, A Place at the Table.
Participants will have the opportunity to learn how to make this exact recipe, costillitas en salsa verde from Durango, Mexico, prepared and taught by the hands of an immigrant who carries it not just in a notebook, but in their story. This is not just a cooking class. It is a sharing of home, of resourcefulness, of culture, and of gratitude.
When someone leaves their country, they cannot pack everything. They leave behind streets they know by heart, the smell of morning air, familiar landscapes in the horizon. But they carry recipes. They carry the taste of their childhood. They carry the memory of sitting at their mother’s table, stretching a meal when necessary, celebrating when possible.
That night, we will honor that.
We will gather as a community, some who were born here, some who were not, and we will roast, blend, simmer, and taste together. We will listen. We will learn. And we will remember that behind every immigrant story is a kitchen, a family, and a table that once was home.
In a world that often feels divided, there is something powerful about choosing to sit together and share a meal. In Mexico, that act says, gracias. Thank you for being here. Thank you for showing up. Thank you for walking alongside us.
On March 27, I hope you’ll take a seat at the table.
Key Dates in 2026
Trimester 1
Come and See Nights: March 2nd-5th, 6:30-8:30pm
Visit us during program times, learn more about our ministry, and watch our leaders in action! Sign up for Come and See Nights here.