Tomás Alvarado, who came to the U.S. from Venezuela, cooks pasta as his daughter Grecia, 3, watches in their Northwest Side home.
Pat Nabong/Sun-Times
It’s always been Tomás Alvarado’s dream to own a restaurant.
After crossing into the United States with his wife Carmen Ollarves, their 3-year-old daughter Grecia and Ollarves’ brother Luis, that dream is in reach now more than ever.
Back in Venezuela, there were moments when the couple struggled to find food and make it last.
“Here, it’s completely different,” Ollarves said.
Her husband added that their way of life in Chicago makes them feel like millionaires, especially being able to keep their fridge stocked.
Though they can’t find exactly everything needed to create an authentic meal in the U.S., they’ve improvised the ingredients to replicate meals that remind them of home.
One dish, in particular, is a nod to the blending of cultures, thanks to the Italian colonial and migratory history in Venezuela: spaghetti with ground beef, plantains and garlic bread.
“Of course, with the passing of time the Venezuelans were giving it their touch,” Alvarado said. “But keeping that Italian-Venezuelan mixture, that is, it is something that is eaten a lot there in Venezuela.
“We are migrants here, aren’t we? The Italians in Venezuela were migrants too.”
Alvarado and Ollarves left Venezuela for Peru in 2018 but left after four years of struggling to make ends meet. Xenophobia became an issue too: Employers began refusing to hire them because of their nationality.
They began thinking about where to relocate. Spain and other European countries came to mind, but in 2022 they ultimately decided to risk walking and hitchhiking through South and Central America to get to the U.S.-Texas border.
“Valió la pena,” Alvarado said. “It was worth it.”
But he said, “The jungle crossing was very turbulent, I don’t recommend it to anyone.”
They’re a part of the more than 7 million people who have left Venezuela since 2015, when the country fell into an ongoing political and economic crisis.
Ollarves and Alvarado often made the spaghetti dish in Peru to remind them of home. And now it serves the same purpose when they make it in their Portage Park apartment.
“In Venezuela, it is usually served with queso llanero,” Alvarado said, describing the cheese as hard and salty. They’ve had no luck finding a worthy equivalent in Chicago, but Parmesan is close enough.
“There is another type of cheese in Venezuela called queso de mano,” Ollarves said. “They also sell it here, but it doesn’t taste the same. But at least it helps in the preparation of food.”
Other Venezuelans, both in the U.S. diaspora and back home, might opt to enjoy the dish with mayonnaise or ketchup, too, he said.
Plantains sizzle in the pan as Carmen Ollarves fries them for lunch.
Pat Nabong/Sun-Times
In general, Venezuelans use the ingredients they have the most access to — making it their own. Alvarado adds red bell pepper, for example.
The sweet plantains are what make the dish quintessentially Venezuelan. They’re fried in cooking oil and served alongside the pasta, which is generously covered in sauce and cheese.
It all gets washed down with a large glass of passion fruit juice, or parchita.
Fresh passion fruit can be hard to come by in the city, but Latin American grocery stores like Cermak and Tony’s fresh markets, have freezers full of frozen pulp that can be melted and watered down.
The compliments that Alvarado gets on his food fill him with satisfaction, he said, but for now his plans of owning a restaurant are on the back burner until he and his family are more established.
“Right now, setting up a restaurant is not in my plans because of the permits,” he said, adding that he feels inspired seeing Venezuelan and Mexican families successfully operating restaurants in Chicago. “So if they could do it, obviously I could too, right?”
His ideal restaurant would be a love letter to all of the things he’s learned to prepare over the years, especially during the family’s journey through Central America.
He became fascinated with each country’s relationship with corn and how different items can be made using the same ingredient: tortillas in Mexico, for example.
The couple recently was approved for work permits, so they feel as if even more doors have opened for them — their daughter especially, who is learning English faster thanks to her enrollment in a bilingual day care.
“I see that she interacts a lot with the children. Yes, they speak English to her and she responds,” Ollarves said. “She knows a lot. … She’s like a little sponge.”