EL AMOR A TRAVÉS DE LA COCINA: EXPLORING THE 
CONNECTION BETWEEN FOOD AND LOVE IN 20TH CENTURY 
LATIN-AMERICAN LITERATURE   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
by  
ELLA GUTIERREZ-GARNER   
  
  
  
  
 
  
  
A THESIS  
  
Presented to the Department of Romance Languages   
and the Robert D. Clark Honors College   
in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of   
Bachelor of Arts  
 
June 2024   
 
 
 
An Abstract of the Thesis of  
Ella Gutierrez-Garner for the degree of Bachelor of Arts in the Department of Romance 
Languages to be taken June 2024  
El Amor A Través De La Cocina: Exploring the Connection Between Food and Love in 20th 
Century Latin-American Literature  
 
Approved:    Jesús Sepúlveda Ph.D.    
 Primary Thesis Advisor  
 
Themes of food and love are strongly intertwined throughout Spanish language literature. The 
connection is especially apparent during and in the wake of the Latin American Boom of the mid-to-
late 20th century. This thesis offers a study of this phenomenon using five diverse texts that display 
such a theme in rich decorum. Organized in chapters centering on each piece of literature, numerous 
examples of the bond between food and love are closely examined. In some instances, food serves as an 
aphrodisiac, in others, cooking is an act of love and food a symbol of it. At times, foods are used as 
metaphors for genitalia, sex is symbolized using language around eating, and sensuality is best described 
in the intricacies of nature’s finest edible creations. The bond between food and love is shown in a 
harmonious variety throughout the region's poetry, song, and literature.   
Using close-reading and textual analysis, five texts have been selected which effectively include 
or are based upon this idea of a food-love connection. To keep the source and form of the literary works 
diverse, they consist of two novels, one ode, one free verse poem, and one sonnet. The authors are also 
intentionally chosen for their distinct backgrounds in writing, nationality, cultural experience, and 
gender which include Laura Esquivel of Mexico, Gabriel García Márquez of Colombia, Pablo Neruda 
of Chile, and Gioconda Belli of Nicaragua. The first two texts in this investigation are “Amor de frutas” 
(1991) by Gioconda Belli and “Oda a la ciruela” (1954) by Pablo Neruda, selected for the unique way 
that the authors admire the physical shape and qualities of fruits and liken them to the natural 
properties of human sex. Next is Neruda’s “Soneto XI” (1959), where the author's desire for his lover is 
metaphorized to an inconsolable animalistic hunger. In this poem, he wishes to go beyond touch and 
kiss her; he needs to taste her, swallow her, and consume her. Following the poetry is, Cien años de 
soledad (1967) by Gabriel García Márquez, which demonstrates complex romances involving obsessive 
love or mania expressed through binge eating. This eating disorder is first introduced through Rebeca 
and her inexplicable hunger for earth and is later reiterated during the eating contest between 
Aureliano Segundo and La Elefante where her sheer skill for consumption attracts his gluttony and 
desire. The final text, Como agua para chocolate by Laura Esquivel (1989), is the raison d'être of this 
thesis. Here, Esquivel creates a narrative wherein food is a symbol and mechanism of love. Tita’s recipes 
prove potent transmitters of emotion, through which she ultimately creates iconic aphrodisiacs. 
 
 
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Acknowledgements  
I would like to extend my thanks to several members of my personal and academic family. 
First, and foremost, I would like to thank my Little Nana, to whom this thesis is dedicated. I 
also wish to thank all of the authors featured in this project, for all that they have 
contributed to Latin-American literature and cultural representation.  
To my Primary Thesis Advisor, Dr. Jesús Sepúlveda, thank you for encouraging this project, 
affirming me not only as a writer, but as a Spanish-speaker, and motivating me to create 
something out of the ordinary.  
To my Clark Honors College Representative and first editor, Dr. Lindsay Hinkle and Dr. Zak 
Roman, thank you for the patience and care with which you have treated me and my 
writing. 
To my mother and my Nana, thank you for preserving the integrity of our complex culture 
and identity as Mexican-American women. Through food and love, you have helped me find 
myself.  
To my father, thank you for your curiosity for this work and ceaseless belief in me.  
To my brother, Elijah, and Sofia and Tomás, thank you for the smiles you give me at the 
dinner table.  
To Daniela and Andy Dey, thank you for feeding me with both food and stories for all of 
these years, and teaching me the meaning of sobremesa.  
To Mira, Catharine, Virginia, Simone, Phil, Alina, Miriam, Yash, Franc, Ross, Albie, Toni, 
Kaitlyn, and others… Thank you for being my friends. Life has color by your side.  
To my Antonia… It is easy to write about love when you feel it everyday. This is what you 
have given to me.  
 
 
 
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Table of Contents  
Introduction 6 
I. Literature Review 15 
II. Methods 19 
Chapter 1: Forbidden Fruits in Gioconda Belli’s “Amor de frutas” (1991) 21 
1.1 Introduction 21 
1.2 Observation 23 
1.3 Analysis 27 
1.4 Conclusion 30 
Chapter 2: Hunger and Sensation in “Oda a la ciruela” (1954) and “Soneto XI” (1959) by Pablo Neruda  
 32 
2.1 Introduction 32 
2.2 “Oda a la ciruela” (1954) by Pablo Neruda 34 
2.2.1 Observation 34 
2.2.2 Analysis 35 
2.3 “Soneto XI” (1959) by Pablo Neruda 39 
2.3.1 Observation 39 
2.3.2 Analysis 40 
2.4 Conclusion 46 
Chapter 3: Binge-Eating and Mania in Cien años de soledad (1967) by Gabriel García Márquez 47 
3.1 Introduction 47 
3.2 Observation  51 
3.3 Analysis  54 
3.3.1 Rebeca Buendía 54 
3.3.2 Aureliano Segundo 58 
3.4 Conclusion  62 
Chapter 4: To Cook and to Love in Como agua para chocolate (1989) by Laura Esquivel 64 
4.1 Introduction 64 
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4.2 Observation 66 
4.3 Analysis 67 
4.3.1 Food-Body Metaphor 67 
4.3.2 Storge in the Kitchen 74 
4.3.3 Eros and the Aphrodisiac 79 
4.5 Conclusion 85 
Conclusion 87 
Bibliography 91 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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Introduction  
Before my great grandmother passed away (who we affectionately called ‘Little Nana’), 
it was customary to spend several lots of time with her on our visits to Phoenix. Her home was 
old, dried by the beating sun, painted the shade of juicy bubblegum. We rode as one–my 
brother, mother, Big Nana, and I–all the way to her enduring one-story house on 1512 East 
Edgemont. Upon arrival we were greeted with hugs, kisses, and a firm reminder not to take 
our shoes off. Then, it was time to eat. Enormous handmade tortillas, albondigas, Mexican rice, 
refried beans, menudo blanco, sopitas, red or green tamales, and gorditas were just a few of the 
many dishes she would often prepare for us. As we ate, we shared with her the excitement of 
our new life in Oregon, engaged in an unhealthy amount of gossip, and laughed to no end. It 
was impossible to eat at her table without feeling even the slightest sense of happiness or 
tranquility. That was a special experience. 
After her death, there were some parts of our family that were due for a natural change. 
Big Nana lost the need for her prefix in her mother’s absence and the pink house was painted 
gray and sold to a new family. As a result, the house and our family with it, had lost a quality 
of charm only she possessed. Nevertheless, Little Nana’s recipes lived on in the kitchens of her 
children and grandchildren. As the years go by, and the delicate topic of her passing hardens, 
my mother and grandmother refine their recreations of Little Nana’s recipes. At times, it seems 
they have perfected a batch of albondigas, or a Christmas day pot of tamales. But it is never a 
guarantee. In other instances, I see the frustration in my mother’s eyes at the dinner table as 
she accepts that she has once again failed to perfectly match the flavor of her grandmother’s 
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Mexican rice. When it comes to the tortillas, my mother even jokes that Little Nana withheld 
a secret ingredient or step just to ensure that hers always came out even more fluffy and 
delicious. Maybe, these two women fall short of perfection because their matriarch was, in 
fact, concealing a culinary secret to each of her staple dishes. Or maybe, the missing element 
of their homemade meals all along has simply been her company.  
My mother and grandmother are not close. By age 15, she had already moved in full-
time with Little Nana due to differences at home. As our family’s matriarch, Little Nana was 
always the one person who could connect them. Even to this day, when Nana visits, most of 
their conversations take place over a pot of beans. Despite their tumultuous past, they have 
found a consistent form of bonding in cooking Little Nana’s dishes. Honoring her life is a daily 
routine which my mother and grandmother have committed themselves to. By remembering 
her as often as they can through her recipes, they revive her in a way. Just as my Little Nana 
did all her life, her daughter and granddaughter transmit their memories and adoration for her 
through their cooking so that each component of every dish inspires the same feeling: Love.  
— 
My story is not unique. In fact, it is shared by many. It is within this commonplace lore 
that the inspiration for this very project was born. Food and love are two recurring themes 
woven throughout the history of Spanish language literature. This analysis takes place upon 
the bridge between these themes. What connection do food and love share? Under what 
circumstances does this bond arise, and between whom? At the root of this partnership, there 
is a deeply founded web of similarities arriving from various cultural outlets. A synthesis 
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between food and love can be observed in music, visual art, literature, and linguistics of Latin 
America. In these cultural contexts, cooking is shown as an act of true care or at times a 
metaphor for intercourse, eating can be likened to the mouth experiences of a sexual 
encounter, food can serve as a symbol for not only love itself, but also on a more physical 
representation, genitalia, and of course, the aphrodisiacal qualities of particular foods are 
underlined for their sexual powers. Sex and sensuality, however, are broad ideas. Both are 
more easily understood when looking at pleasure. 
A. What is pleasure?  
Humans are nourished by food in the same way we can be with love. Love consumes 
the human heart and mind. At times, it can feel as though love is eating up at the core of one’s 
sanity. We crave one another with incessant passion in the same way we crave a favorite food, 
so much so in fact that the tie between love and food is embedded within our human 
psychology. According to John Allen of the Brain and Creativity Institute at the University of 
Southern California, “the dopamine system [the brain’s pleasure center] becomes active in 
people when they look at someone they love or a favorite food” (Hamilton). In other words, 
to crave a person or food is enough to emit feelings of pleasure. It makes sense then, that ideas 
of food and love are so often intertwined.  
B. What is love?  
According to the Ancient Greeks, there are eight forms of love which change the shape 
and dynamic of a relationship: philia, pragma, storge, eros, ludus, mania, philautia, and agape. 
These variations help sort feelings of affection and honor the very real love one feels for a 
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partner and a distinct, equally genuine regard in which one holds their family. Most relevant 
to the core literature of this thesis is philia (affectionate love), storge (familiar love), eros 
(romantic love), ludus (playful love), mania (obsessive love), and agape (selfless love).  
Food and love also share many linguistic usages. In the English language, there are a 
bounty of terms, both colloquial and advanced, which intrinsically relate these two themes. 
For example, terms of endearment like ‘honey’, ‘sweetie pie’, and ‘sugar’ are often used in the 
context of familial or romantic love. In other contexts, more informal terms like referring to 
someone as a ‘snack’ or reifying virginity with the word ‘cherry’ are used almost exclusively 
in sexual applications. Diction of this nature has an even greater presence in the Spanish 
language. Verbs such as comer [to eat, to make out], probar [to taste, to try someone], and 
disfrutar [to enjoy] are used in the context of food and sex in colloquial and more profound 
linguistic settings. There are also terms of endearment in Spanish such as bombón [bonbon, 
truffle], media naranja [other half], and corazón de melon [heart of melon] which are used in 
relation to a romantic partner or loved one. With these varied disciplinary backgrounds 
providing a useful basis, this thesis serves to explore how the theme of food and love functions 
in 20th century Latin American literature. This theme is present in literature throughout the 
world but is especially essential for the use of this study, in Latin American and Spanish-
language literature.  
The relationship between food and love has a deep history and has become iconized 
through various literary works overtime. Tracing back to even the earliest periods of renowned 
Spanish literature, the resemblance between food and love has been noted. Baltasar del Alcázar 
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(1525-1606) was a beloved author belonging to 16th Century Spain's Siglo de Oro [Golden 
Age]. In his poetry, del Alcázar often made one with food and love, establishing their 
metaphoric partnership, most notably in his 36-verse poem “Tres cosas me tienen preso” 
[“Three Things Have Me Prisoner”]. Organized in rounds, as is common for poetry conceived 
in the Siglo de Oro, del Alcázar equalizes the love he feels for his Inés with the ham and 
eggplants with cheese that she prepares for him. Throughout the poem, he struggles to decide 
which of the three ingredients of his desire leave him most satisfied, until eventually he settles 
that he simply cannot choose.  
Fue de Inés la primer palma;  Twas Inés who first made me whole,  
pero ya júzgase mal  but now I can’t even decide,  
entre todos ellos cuál  for they have all equally vied,  
tiene más parte en mi alma.  and none has won over my soul.  
      
En gusto, medida y peso  In flavor, measure, and weight these  
no le hallo distinción:  I cannot differentiate,  
ya quiero Inés, ya jamón,  I love Inés and ham—but wait—  
ya berenjenas con queso.  I also love eggplants with cheese.1 
 
Here, one can see a man deeply confused by his feelings towards Inés. Is his passion for 
her determined or simply supported by the delicious plate she produces for him? He even 
struggles to realize the answer to this query. In the following stanza, del Alcázar makes his 
association between food and love even more apparent when he adds, “Y está tan en fiel el 
 
1 Unless specified otherwise in footnotes, all translations in this thesis are by Ella Gutierrez-Garner.  
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peso, que, juzgado sin pasión, todo es uno, Inés, jamón y berenjenas con queso [And everyone 
who judges sees that my passions are all the same, as one in my heart they became: Inés, ham, 
and eggplants with cheese” (del Alcázar). The author makes one of these two standalone ideas 
of Inés and his favorite dish. As a result of their merging, he no longer sees them apart. Rather, 
he feels one powerful adoration for the two as a conjoined concept in his mind. Throughout 
the rounds, he struggles to decide which of the three ingredients of his desire leave him most 
satisfied, until eventually he settles that he simply cannot choose. It is all three things, the 
smoked ham, the eggplants with cheese, and Inés, their maker, who have him bound in a state 
of ecstasy (del Alcázar).  
Finally, the author sacrifices the idea of the two, joining them into one simultaneous 
love—the ham and eggplants with cheese made possible through Inés’ skilled cooking; 
meanwhile his love for Inés deepens through the taste of the dishes she creates. Del Alcázar’s 
“Tres Cosas” brings up questions within the reader regarding the depth or legitimacy of his 
love. One may contemplate whether his feelings for Inés are genuine or possibly clouded by 
his affinity for traditional Spanish cuisine. Is this a poem about food or a lover? Del Alcázar’s 
authorial skill leaves the reader to ponder where the thematic intersections behind and end. 
From the sixteenth century to modern times, the aims of his work echo towards a cannon of 
food-love literature.   
 
 
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Y está tan en fiel el peso,  And everyone who judges sees  
que, juzgado sin pasión,  that my passions are all the same,  
todo es uno, Inés, jamón  as one in my heart they became:  
y berenjenas con queso.  Inés, ham, and cheese.  
 
500 years later, this theme is still being explored by 21st century poets and writers who 
seek to address the power of sexual desire using the sheer delight brought on by food. For 
example, Natalia Toledo, a Mexican poet, illustrates a food-sex connection in her piece titled 
“Chile chocolate.” Through her poetry, Toledo has made major contributions to the visibility 
and experience of the modern Mexican woman. In a written critique of her work, Maya 
Beckman Sommer of Bard College gives context on how in Toledo’s book The Black Flower: 
“One of the sections... is titled “A hand in the bush makes for sweet work in the 
kitchen” (“En la cocina, el que juega su sexo tiene buen sazón”), a Juchitecan saying that 
refers to masturbation. This chapter is packed with rich images of sensuality and food. 
“According to Toledo...cooking is one of the ways of expressing love” (Kozlowska-Day 
144)” (Sommer 69).   
For Natalia Toledo, part of understanding love is realizing its relationship to food. In the poem 
“Chile chocolate”, she describes the initial stages of a very passionate sex scene between a man 
and a woman. Speaking in the second person, she explains the interaction unfolding as if 
something to be followed to recreate, like a recipe. The sexual events are coded with diction 
relating to traditional Mexican culinary processes or foods and flow as follows:   
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“El totomostle abre luminoso  The totomostle opens bright  
amarillo y verde.  yellow and green.  
Tú descubres de par en par tus piernas  You reveal your legs wide open  
cuando te sientas en la hamaca  when you sit in the hammock  
para que en tu jícara entre  so that it enters your gourd  
el chile-chocolate de tu hombre  your man's chili-chocolate  
y así batir el cacao   and thus beat the cocoa  
que doraste sobre el comal de tu deseo.  that you browned on the comal of your desire. 
 
The use of the words totomostle, a Mexican artisanal creation made of colorful corn 
husks, jícara, an organic bowl made of a hollowed fruit, chile-chocolate, traditional chocolate 
mixed with the heat of chiles, batir [to beat, in baking], cocoa, dorar [to brown], and comal, a 
traditional griddle, are crucial to the mechanism of the food-love connection within this poem. 
These words provide the reader with setting as well as tone. They also provide imagery which 
functions subliminally to communicate broader ideas of sex within the scope of Mexican 
indigeneity. It is a powerful piece, and one which is one of the most recent additions to 
literature connecting ideas of food and love.   
Between the five centuries which separate de Alcázar and Toledo, there is an especially 
inspiring era in which the themes of love, sex, cooking, and food take place—the mid-20th 
century. This era of Latin American literature is especially known as El Boom [The Boom] in 
which prolific writers such as Julio Cortázar, Carlos Fuentes, Mario Vargas Llosa, and Gabriel 
García Márquez grew to international fame, and notably, the crafting and dissemination of 
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magical realism. In fact, magical realism as a genre has contributed to the promotion of a food-
love connection in large part for its ability to relate freely and literally the two without concern 
for the rigid borders of reality.   
This thesis centers on five works of literature from the minds of four Latin-American 
writers. The first work is Como agua para chocolate by Laura Esquivel. This novel tells the tale 
of Tita, a young woman whose family custom forbade her from marrying her true love. The 
story skillfully blends magical realism with vivid culinary imagery to depict Tita's existence, 
her forbidden love, and the intense emotions associated with the food she cooks. The second 
novel explored in this thesis is Gabriel García Márquez’s Cien años de soledad which depicts 
the rise and fall of the Buendía family as they negotiate the intricacies of life, love, and the 
passage of time in a bizarre and captivating universe unbound by the rules of reality. The 
poetry in this project begins with “Oda a la ciruela [Ode to the Plum]” by Pablo Neruda. This 
poem is a romantic dedication to the simple fruit that is the plum. Neruda likens the plum to 
femininity and creates a sexual atmosphere when describing the process of eating a plum. The 
text which follows is Nicaraguan poet and writer Gioconda Belli’s open-form poem “Amor de 
frutas.” In her work, Belli describes her lover's body with a variety of fruits which achieve an 
organic and erotic verse of affection. She gives life to the inanimate fruits by explaining how 
they can be squeezed, pressed upon, or flexed to create an uncontrollable flow of sweet juices, 
illuminating the similarities between human sex organs and plants when applied the same 
sensations. The final poem is “Soneto XI” from Pablo Neruda’s classic Cien sonetos de amor. In 
this piece, Neruda’s longing for his beloved is compared to an insatiable, primal craving. He 
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yearns not just to embrace or kiss her but to deeply experience her, to devour her essence, and 
become one with her through tasting and consuming. In studying five of the most significant 
examples of this genre, I will be able to demonstrate that the relationship between love and 
food is diverse, recurring, and abundant all throughout 20th century Latin American literature. 
This thesis maps how 20th Century Latin-American literature is centered upon the 
intersection between food and love, which is the crux of culture, tradition, and identity of the 
continent. 
I. Literature Review    
This thesis fits well into an existing family of scholarship regarding the connection 
between food and love in the context of Latin American literature. There is a rich body of 
literature on the subject which speaks from several perspectives, be it anthropological, literary, 
historical, psychological, or gastronomical. I am not the first to recognize the power between 
food, love, and sensuality. In fact, a piece which largely encouraged the creation of this study 
is Isabel Allende’s Afrodita [Aphrodite] (1999). In Afrodita, Allende delves into sensuality, 
love, and the world of cuisine. Through a mixture of narratives, culinary instructions, and 
contemplations, the work exults in the interplay of food and passion, providing a distinctive 
fusion of literature and the art of cooking for its readers. She breaks her sentiments into various 
chapters regarding "The Food of the Gods," "How to Be Sensual," "Aphrodisiacs," "The Divine 
Secrets of the Kitchen," "The Sweetest Poison," "The Marquise's Panties," "The Tenth Muse," 
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and "Aphrodisiacs for Future Lovers." Each of these themes explores, to varying degrees, the 
presence of love in gastronomic interactions and the metaphors of food intertwined with 
intimate relationships.   
Years later, Gala del Castillo Cerdá contributes a significant comparative and analytical 
chapter titled "De los filtros de amor a las recetas afrodisíacas. Presencia y evolución en 
Afrodita y Como agua para chocolate" [Of the filters of love and the aphrodisiac recipes. 
Presence and evolution in Aphrodite and Like Water for Chocolate] where she builds off the 
concepts first established in Allende’s book, furthering the discourse on food and love in Latin 
American culture and literature and using this work in relation to the iconic novel by Laura 
Esquivel. Jenison Alisson dos Santos and Ana Cristina Marinho Lúcio similarly studied the 
process of aphrodisiacal food as a leading theme in Como agua para chocolate in her essay 
"Flavors and Loves in Laura Esquivel's Kitchen: Foods and Affections in Laura Esquivel's 
Kitchen.” Dos Santos affirms the ideas presented in del Castillo Cerdá’s chapter and engages in 
a meaningful dialogue with other scholars of literature focusing on this food-love connection 
in Esquivel’s 1990s novel.  
Both Katherine Louise Dell’s dissertation and Susan Lucas Dobrian’s article contribute 
to the conversation on the food-love connection in Laura Esquivel’s novel in a way which 
majorly supports this thesis. Dobrian speaks to the ways in which Como agua para chocolate 
is, at its core, a feminist text based on the reclamation of the kitchen and the act of cooking as 
predominantly female space and practice. Dell opens up a new interpretation of food as a 
means of empowerment in this text where both cooking and eating lead to scenes of rich 
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growth and independence for the female characters. Like Dobrian, Dell discusses the ways in 
which the novel is a parody on traditional romances, especially of its time and geographic 
setting. Both agree that the novel is enriched by this deeper analysis, easy to overlook if the 
reader is not aware of it.  
“La alimentación como un proceso comunicativo y significativo en la novela Como agua 
para chocolate [Eating as a Communicative and Significant Process in Como agua para 
chocolate]” by Katherine Hernández Tusarma also plays an important role in the production 
of scholarship on the topic of the food-love connection in Esquivel’s novel. She identifies the 
importance of eating, more than merely the symbol of food and the act of cooking, as a driving 
force of action as well as emotional transmission. Hernández Tusarma speaks to the fact that 
without this feature of food, be it as an aphrodisiac, motion of sadness, or anger, the novel 
would take a much different shape.  
The base of reference for the study of food and love in Gabriel García Márquez’s Cien 
años de soledad [One Hundred Years of Solitude] is "Food Fights: The Intertextuality of Food 
in Cien años de soledad [One Hundred Years of Solitude] and Gabriela, Cravo e canela [Clove 
and Cinnamon]," by Chris T. Schulenburg. Schulenburg’s piece provides a meticulous 
examination of Gabriel García Márquez's novel, focusing on the role of food. Schulenburg 
explores how these two Latin American novels employ food as a literary device to convey 
cultural, social, and historical themes, highlighting the rich symbolism and societal context 
surrounding food in these iconic works.  
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Sonia Vilma Migliore de Helfer's "La sensualidad de la mujer y el alimento: Una 
dialéctica feminista de perquisión [The sensuality of the woman and food: A feminist dialect 
of perquision]" also studies the connection between food and love in Latin American literature 
included in her dissertation. She established a relationship between female sensuality and food 
from a feminist perspective, delving into the intricate interplay between gender, sexuality, and 
culinary culture, offering a feminist critique of societal norms and expectations regarding 
women's sensuality through the lens of food.  
Finally, Y. Giraldo Buitrago's “The reflection of a revolutionary and erotic creative 
body in the eye of Gioconda Belli's woman” looks specifically into Gioconda Belli’s body of 
work, including “Amor de frutas” and examines the eroticism she creates using food. Belli’s 
capacity to illustrate sex and pleasure using objects of consumption echoes patterns present in 
Neruda’s “Soneto XI,” as well as Como agua para chocolate, though she accomplishes her effects 
in such a unique way. Giraldo Buitrago examines Belli’s gift for imagery and makes meaningful 
connections to the larger culture within which Belli is a part.  
This thesis intervenes in the existing literature by broadening the scope and refining 
the aim. While previous authors have acknowledged the food-love connection within their 
respective works, few have explored it as a widespread regional phenomenon, nor have they 
assessed its broader cultural implications. This is what I aim to do. 
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II. Methods   
Given the wide range of literature that lies at the heart of this project, the 
methodologies used to develop my argument are textual analysis and close reading. To do this, 
I first conducted a close read of the five literary works of study in this project: Como agua para 
chocolate by Laura Esquivel, Cien años de soledad by Gabriel García Márquez, “Oda a la 
ciruela” by Pablo Neruda, “Amor de frutas” by Gioconda Belli, and “Soneto XI” by Pablo 
Neruda. A close read involves first the comprehension of the text that goes one step further 
and becomes the basis for an interpretation of the text on a more profound level. Conducting 
a close read of the five core texts was a crucial step in my analysis of each, because it encourages 
a two-pronged perspective of the literature: (1) what does the text say, and (2) how does it say 
it? From close reading, one gains valuable insight into diction, metaphors, imagery, 
personification, etc. These literary devices provide meaningful context to any written work 
and cannot be overlooked in a project of this character.   
After the close read, I began my textual analysis. This involved identifying themes, 
underlying messages, and how certain scenes and dialogues speak to my argument about the 
connection between food and love. Textual analysis often serves the purpose of connecting a 
written work to a larger context, be it social, cultural, historical, etc. With that in mind, I 
conducted a textual analysis for the five core works to identify aspects of each which speak to 
the broader cultural implications of my thesis. At times, a whole text works in the broader 
context of my thesis, like Laura Esquivel’s Como agua para chocolate or “Amor de frutas” by 
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Gioconda Belli, for example. In other cases, sections of a larger text speak to the project’s 
overarching theme rather than a whole work. Such is the case in Cien años de soledad or “Oda 
a la ciruela.”   
After the analysis of the central body of literature, I began my study of secondary 
academic sources. These are sources that I feel support my understanding of their respective 
texts and which enabled me to refine my argument. I aimed to use three secondary academic 
sources per primary literary work. In this process, I read a host of academic articles, journals, 
essays, and chapters within theses or dissertations all aimed either at the subject of food and 
love in Latin American literature, or directly analyzing one of the central works. Part of my 
written analysis involves a response to selected quotes from both primary and secondary 
sources. Given that all the primary and many of the secondary sources are originally Spanish-
language texts, there is also a concern for authenticity in this quotation process. To maintain 
the written integrity of the texts, I have included all selected quotations in their original 
Spanish with translations to English immediately following, either from myself or as provided 
by supporting scholarly texts such as the official English versions. I have done this with the 
intention to broaden the accessibility of my thesis for all readers, regardless of language or 
background.   
 
 
 
 
20 
 
 
 
Chapter 1: Forbidden Fruits in Gioconda Belli’s “Amor de frutas” (1991) 
1.1 Introduction  
The first dose of food and love comes out of the cultural landscape of Nicaragua. Poet, 
Gioconda Belli, was born in the capital city Managua in 1948 to a family of means. The literary 
career of Belli has equally as much to do with her education and her distaste for it too. As a 
young girl, she was educated at the School of Asunción in Managua, a local Catholic primary 
school, and later Catholic secondary school at the Royal School of Santa Isabel in Madrid, Spain 
(Belli s/n). Her education, however, was not limited to the classroom. Belli began her English 
language acquisition from a young age through her recurrent summers in England. 
Discouraged to pursue medicine and rather look to advertising, a more “feminine” profession 
by the belief of her father, Gioconda was accepted to the Charles Morris Price School in 
Philadelphia, refining her studies of advertising and journalism in 1965. She returned to 
Nicaragua at the age of 17 and quickly became the first female advertising account executive 
in the country. This professional experience invited a newfound passion to write. Belli 
21 
 
continued her education of advertising management at Instituto Centroamericano de 
Administración de Empresas (INCAE), and later shifted her focus to philosophy and literature 
at Georgetown University.  
Belli's initial poetry was published in the cultural newspaper La Prensa of Managua in 
1970. Characterized by sensuality and abundant erotic allusions to the female form, the works 
stirred significant controversy, cited by one writer in The Guardian as "bold pornography" 
(Belli s/n). Since her beginning in poetic compositions, Belli has had a skill to create a robust 
and palpable feeling with each work. Belli performs a unique alchemy as an author: her work 
compels the reader to simultaneously want to hide the pages against their chest as strangers 
pass by, and yet she also foments the desire to quietly pull those same pages aside so that all 
may share in the spectacle. 
Since 1970, Gioconda Belli has published four novels, six books of poetry, a memoir, 
and a children's book, alongside countless essays and political commentary informed by her 
time as a rebel in the Sandinista National Liberation Front (SNLF). Each is unique in focus and 
intention, while there are a few in particular which stand out for their quality of intimacy and 
eroticism which she was once so criticized for. It is important to acknowledge that Belli’s work, 
though part of an investigation of 20th century Latin-American literature, is quite split 
between the turn of the 21st century. However, keeping in the scope of this project, the 
selected poetry was published in 1991.  
22 
 
Belli writes unapologetically, explaining love in honest terms, sex in realism, and the 
iconizing metaphors we draw up in life to make sense of it all. Specifically, Línea de fuego 
[Line of Fire] (1978), Amor insurrecto [Love Insurgent] (1984), El ojo de la mujer [The Eye of 
the Woman] (1991), and finally, El país bajo mi piel [The Country Under My Skin] (2001) are 
strong demonstrations of her skill and approach to various writing styles. For this 
investigation, El ojo de la mujer will be central to painting the themes of food and love.  
This collection of poetry remains a contemporary masterpiece, offering profound 
insights accessible to diverse readers. Belli explores the essence of womanhood, the 
significance of being a mother, the sanctity of nature, the dynamics of revolution, and the role 
of man within societal constructs. She employs a familiar language without the need for 
scholarly pretensions, and her poetic structure serves as reflections of a reality characterized 
by clarity and an open-mind (Ramirez s/n). El ojo de la mujer is full of open-form poetry 
discussing all types of sensuality. Most critical to this study, however, is “Amor de frutas”, a 
six-stanza poem which describes a passage of intercourse between the speaker and her lover 
in a sympathy between human sex organs and fruits.  
1.2 Observation  
Belli’s “Amor de frutas” most effectively represents eros, or sexual passion and romantic 
love. It makes sense, then, that Belli uses fruits in place of genitalia to describe the passionate 
scene between the two partners, as this gastronomic category has a long history of sexual 
23 
 
innuendo. Possibly humanity’s most iconic demonstration of the connection between fruit and 
sex is present in the story of Genesis II in the Holy Bible. In the Garden of Eden, nature 
maintained a peaceful and paradisiacal role– a reflection of God’s perfect hand. Yet, when 
charmed by the serpent, Adam disregarded God in his wish against their consuming fruit from 
the Tree of Knowledge. Victim to temptation, Adam ate the fruit and forevermore left a stain 
on humanity which would need to be repented as the original sin. Punished for their 
disobedience and disregard of His garden, God exiled Adam and Eve, never to return to their 
paradise.  
Genesis II is a cautionary tale about greed and desire. Like many passages of the Bible, 
it is also gracefully implicative of a temptation embodied but not literalized by the forbidden 
fruit. Many theological theorists believe the forbidden fruit to be a figure for sex. Others, 
however, find the forbidden fruit to identify more simply with anything coveted yet ethically 
or morally forbidden. Regardless of interpretation, sex beyond the means of procreation and 
towards the ends of pleasure is described in the context of Adam and Eve as unnecessary, given 
that Adam and Eve received all they needed by eating from the Tree of Eternal Life, leaving 
them no reason to procreate through sex in order to replace themselves. Maybe then, what the 
forbidden fruit ultimately embodies is desire and sin indulgence.  
Since Adam and Eve, the sexuality of the fruit has been ratified throughout the world 
in art and literature, creating a canonical metaphor. Chilean writer, Isabel Allende, 
proficiently encapsulates the notion of the sexualized fruit in her experimental cultural 
24 
 
memoir, Afrodita. Afrodita is an homage to food and sex, offering recipes, poetry, and a cultural 
analysis of the importance of the theme in Allende’s Latin- American life. The author defines 
the theme and plants its relevance in Latin America as a product of the cultural values of food, 
family, and romance, as well as a willing inclination towards the aims of Catholicism. With 
this in mind, Belli, with her early Catholic education and experience as a Nicaraguan woman 
in a time in which Catholicism defined her country and culture, would grow as an artist, 
projecting these symbols between food and love. Like Belli, Allende feels such conviction 
about the relationship between fruit and sex specifically, she prepares an entire chapter for it 
titled “Forbidden Fruits”. This chapter outlines the encyclopedia of fruits associated with sex, 
desire, and otherwise aphrodisiacal powers. She explains that oral sex is sometimes referred to 
as ‘forbidden fruits’, but also acknowledges the fact that many fruits, either due to shape, size, 
or texture, have adopted a personified sensuality (Allende 28, 1996). Allende ranges her study 
from almonds, bananas, and beyond, giving special attention to both their history and modern 
associations.  
Of the many fruits discussed, there are several which are particularly relevant to Belli’s 
“Amor de frutas”. Featured in the poem, the cherry has a connotation of virginity. Colloquially, 
to “pop one’s cherry” is to break their hymen and otherwise mark the end of their virginity 
(Allende 153, 1996). Also featured in the poem is the grape. According to Allende, the grape 
is the fruit associated with “pleasure, fertility, Dionysus, Priapus, Bacchus, and merry gods in 
all traditions, because wine is made from the grape, and without wine, any attempt at an orgy 
25 
 
turns into collective boredom” (153, 1996). Neither can one forget Belli’s inclusion of the 
peach, an iconic sexualized fruit which Allende describes as “possibly the most sensual of all 
fruits, for their delectable perfume, soft and juicy texture, and flesh color, an eloquent 
representation of the female private parts” (155, 1996). Besides its physical qualities, the peach 
made an early appearance as an element of sex in Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream 
where it was consumed by fairies as an aphrodisiac. Then, the strawberry makes its mark on 
Belli’s poetic sex. Isabel Allende has fun with this little red fruit, otherwise known to the 
Chilean as “delicate fruit nipples that in the code of eroticism, invite love” (155, 1996). Perhaps 
the firmness and color of this berry call to a vision of the nipple, if not its pointed shape. Last 
of Allende’s mentions, the pomegranate too is included in Belli’s “Amor de frutas”. In its study, 
the pomegranate has been prominent in many Eastern erotic texts for reasons associated with 
the aphrodisiac and ceremonies of fertility (Allende 155, 1996). 
Around the world, fruits are grown, consumed, and looked upon as cultural artifacts, 
part of the national landscape. There is something undeniably pleasure-inducing about the 
fruit. Perhaps it is for its beauty which is naturally occurring and unedited. Or possible too, is 
the thought that the fruit, a product of the Earth just like human beings, portrays many visual 
similarities. It could be its splendid and refreshing taste, impossible to artificially perfect. So 
too could it be the sweetness it allows one to feel between the teeth and tongue. Whatever the 
reason, the fruit is a cherished food in human literature and culture, and in that realm, has 
adapted a particular sexuality.  
26 
 
In the case of “Amor de frutas”, Belli employs the mango,  fresa [strawberry], mandarina 
[mandarine], uvas [grapes], naranjas [oranges], promegranate/granada [pomegranate, 
Nicaragua], limones [lemons], duraznos/melocotones [peaches], bananos [bananas, Central 
America], and cerezas [cherries]. Adding to the magic of the food-love theme, there is no direct 
mention or inclusion of sex or genitalia. Rather, Belli charges an immeasurable quality of 
eroticism into the consumption of the ten fruits so that the reader is left without question of 
what events are taking place between the man and woman featured.  
1.3 Analysis  
In her poem “Amor de frutas” [Fruit Love], Gioconda Belli likens the sex of the speaker’s 
beloved to the qualities and senses of various fruits which she feels represent her lover. She 
begins in the first stanza by saying: “Déjame que esparza manzanas en tu sexo” [Let me scatter 
apples in your genitals] (Belli 1-2, 1991). In these lines, she is pleading with her subject to 
allow her to make a metaphor between his sexuality with the characteristics of the first fruit– 
the most common and Edenic fruit– the apple. She continues with “Nectares de mango, carne 
de fresas” [juices of the mango, flesh of the strawberry] creating a man made in fruit (Belli 3-
4, 1991). As a result of her dissemination of the fruit metaphor, she finishes the first phrase 
with the statement, “Tu cuerpo son todas las frutas.” [Your body is all of the fruits] (Belli 5, 
1991).   
27 
 
In the third stanza, Belli creates a beautiful atmosphere of sex illustrated through the 
natural tensions of several fruits: the running juice of mandarins, grapes, oranges, and the seeds 
of the pomegranate.   
Te abrazo y corren las mandarinas;  I hug you and the tangerines flow;  
Te beso y todas las uvas sueltan el vino oculto I kiss you and the grapes release the hidden 
de su corazón  wine of your heart   
Sobre mi boca.   Over my mouth.   
Mi lengua siente en tus brazos  My tongue feels in your arms the sweet juice 
El zumo dulce de las naranjas  of the oranges  
Y en tus piernas el pomegranate   And in your legs the pomegranate  
Esconde sus semillas incitantes.  Hides its inciting seeds.   
 
The tension present in her physical touch with the man she writes about is similar to the 
pressure that exists beneath the skin of the fruit. The only force keeping the liquid inside of 
the tangerine or the grape is the tension maintained by the peace at the surface. Disturbing 
that peace, as she does by embracing her love, kissing him, licking him, forces that tension to 
release and from there, the juices begin to flow. Be it his sweat or his semen as is indicated by 
the seeds of the pomegranate, she is causing the man to enter a state of deep pleasure and 
openness (Belli 12-13, 1991). Belli implies a vulnerability of her man through the phrase “El 
vino oculto de su corazón sobre mi boca” [the hidden wine of your heart over my mouth] (8, 
1991). She consumes a part of him which he conceals, speaking to the true intimacy of their 
interaction.   
28 
 
  Déjame que coseche los frutos de agua     Let me harvest the fruits of water that sweat in 
Que sudan en tus poros:   your pores:   
Mi hombre de limones y duraznos,   My man of lemons and peaches,   
 Dame a beber fuentes de melocotones y Give me to drink fountains of peaches and 
bananos  bananas   
Racimos de cerezas.   Bunches of cherries. 
  
In this stanza, she pleads “Déjame que coseche los frutos de agua que sudan en tus 
poros:” [Let me harvest the fruits of water that sweat in your pores] (Belli 14-15, 1991). When 
she implants coseche [harvest], she is wishing to both build-up and enjoy a sweat out of her 
lover. This desire is made clear in the following line, “Dame a beber fuentes de melocotones y 
bananos” [Give me to drink fountains of peaches and bananas] (Belli 17-18, 1991). In this 
statement, she is communicating that she not only wants to bring him to a sweat, but that she 
wishes to drink from him what he emits as if it were a fountain.   
In the final stanza, Belli brings back the Edenic symbolism first inspired by the apple.   
Tu cuerpo es el paraíso perdido  Your body is the lost paradise  
Del que nunca jamás ningún Dios  From which never ever any God  
Podrá expulsarme.   Will be able to expel me.  
 
She compares his body to a sort of Garden of Eden in which she wishes to remain 
forever. She rejects any entity or God that could deny her this sacred place where she feels she 
has found true paradise. Her argument remains that there are some fruits that are meant to be 
enjoyed– some pleasures which need to be felt.  
29 
 
1.4 Conclusion  
 What is a fruit? How does it feel to eat one? What does it remind one of? Do we shy 
away when the juice of the peach runs down the chin? Do we eat the banana with a back 
turned to our peers? What does it feel like to split an orange down the seam? What image calls 
out to us when faced with the halves of a papaya, melon, plum? This is food and love at work 
in our lives. Gioconda Belli does not have to exert great effort to create a passionate scene of 
intercourse using nothing more than the image of ripe fruits. In “Amor de frutas”, the 
intertwining of sensuality and natural imagery creates a captivating exploration of love and 
intimacy. Through the metaphorical language of fruits, Belli crafts a vivid portrayal of the 
speaker's beloved, likening his essence to the qualities and sensations evoked by various fruits. 
From the familiar allure of the tantalizing mango and fresa, each fruit becomes a symbol of 
desire and passion. 
As the poem unfolds, Belli delves deeper into the physical and emotional connection 
between the speaker and her lover, drawing parallels between their intimacy and the natural 
tensions found within fruits. The imagery of running juices and hidden seeds reflects the 
vulnerability and pleasure inherent in their embrace, highlighting the profound intimacy of 
their interaction. Moreover, Belli's depiction of the lover's body as a Garden of Eden 
underscores the sacredness and bliss of their union, defying any external forces that might seek 
to deny them this pleasure. Through her impassioned plea, Belli asserts the importance of 
indulging in the pleasures of love, celebrating the profound connection that transcends 
30 
 
boundaries and invites fulfillment. “Amor de frutas” stands as a testament to the power of love 
and desire, weaving together elements of nature and sensuality to create a timeless ode to 
intimacy and connection. Belli's evocative imagery and lyrical language invite readers to savor 
the richness of love's embrace, reminding us of the profound beauty found in the union of 
hearts and bodies. 
Her work is a product of her experience as a Latina. The fruits she chooses, the story 
she tells, and the connection she brands between fruit and sex is informed by her memory and 
reason. Her poem is exquisitely Latin-American and irrefutably contributes to the food-and-
love literary canon. Gioconda Belli's “Amor de frutas” is a captivating exploration of love and 
sexuality that transcends linguistic boundaries, offering a rich tapestry of passion and intimacy 
essential for anyone, regardless of Spanish proficiency or culture, seeking to celebrate love and 
sex in their lives.  
31 
 
Chapter 2: Hunger and Sensation in “Oda a la ciruela” (1954) and “Soneto XI” (1959) by 
Pablo Neruda   
2.1 Introduction  
 5,582 kilometers to the South, Twentieth Century Chilean poet, Pablo Neruda, born 
Neftalí Ricardo Reyes Basoalto, came into the world with a gift to write. Author to over 3,500 
poems, short stories, and anthologies, Neruda has become an icon of Latin-American and 
world literature. His body of work has its home in the 20th century, inspired by the likes of 
Federico Garcia Lorca, Walt Whitman, and Alexander Pushkin. His own artistry went on to 
influence later poets and authors such as Julio Cortázar, Isabel Allende, Dane Zajc, Richard 
Aitson, and others. Neruda was a versatile writer, founded by his background in politics, the 
global community of contemporary poets from which he grew, and his influential extended 
experiences abroad. Mastering forms such as the sonnet, the ode, as well as free-form, Neruda 
is considered one of, if not the most important Latin American poet of the 20th century.  
 Neruda, an unusually insightful young boy, began creating poetry at age 10. However, 
he was strongly discouraged by his father, who till his death never supported his son’s writing 
(Duran s/n). Born and raised in the south of Chile, Neruda received his primary and secondary 
32 
 
education from the Temuco Boys School by 1920. While in school, he learned a true love for 
books, heavily encouraged to continue his passion for literature by none other than Gabriela 
Mistral, principal of the Temuco Girls School next door (Duran s/n).  
Still an adolescent, Neruda published his first poems in local newspapers which 
eventually made their way to the capital. In 1921, as a 17-year-old, he moved to Santiago to 
continue his studies. His transition to the city was not easy. He experienced loneliness and 
many symptoms of poverty. Yet, despite the challenges presented by his new life, he made 
significant strides in his career as a writer. While in Santiago, he published his first and second 
book, Crepusculario [Crepuscular] (1923) and later Veinte poemas de amor y una cancion de 
desesperada [Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair] (1924) (Duran s/n). Traditional 
symbolist and romantic poetry, respectively, these early works of Neruda fortified his name in 
the field as a point of reference within the region. In fact, Veinte poemas de amor y una 
cancion de desesperada is the first in a long and iconic line of the love poetry with which the 
author is so strongly associated. Since 1924, he has been author to over 39 books of poetry, 
including most notably, Canto general [General Song] (1950), Residencia en la tierra 
[Residence on Earth] (1933), Los versos del capitán [The Captain’s Verses] (1952), and España 
en el corazon [Spain in the Heart] (1937).  
33 
 
2.2 “Oda a la ciruela” (1954) by Pablo Neruda  
2.2.1 Observation  
Neruda’s tradition of romantic poetry can be found in many of his books, despite the 
general focus of the collection. Las Odas Elementales [Elemental Odes] (1954), for example, is 
an essential collection of Neruda’s ode-form poems. While this book has no particular theme 
apart from poetic form, there are several romantic, even sensual pieces which stand out. The 
odes, all 225 of them, range significantly in topic and focus. “Oda a la edad” [“Ode to Age”], 
“Oda al aire” [“Ode to Air”], and “Oda al otoño” [“Ode to Autumn”], for example, demonstrate 
the sheer diversity of themes falling under the first letter of the alphabet. The collection 
continues in this way, until the very last poem, “Oda a tus manos” [“Ode to Your Hands”]. 
Most intriguing for the purposes of this study, however, are all of the odes dedicated to food. 
Of course, Neruda upholds a certain level of love and care for each ingredient he gives light 
to. However, there are certain poems in which his description is undeniably romantic or 
sexually charged. See “Oda al caldillo de congrio” [“Ode to the Conger Chowder”], as an 
illustration of cooking as an act of love and sensuality in itself. Here, Neruda sexualizes aspects 
of this classic Chilean dish, such as the eel and its preparation, urging the reader to “acaricia 
primero ese marfil precioso [first, caress that precious ivory]” (Neruda 28-30, 1954). Then, the 
connection between food and love becomes instinctively clear in works such as “Oda a la 
alcachofa” [“Ode to the Artichoke”], “Oda al pan” [“Ode to Bread”], and most notably, “Oda a 
la ciruela” [“Ode to the Plum”].  
34 
 
2.2.2 Analysis  
“Oda a la ciruela” is a story of the plum– how it is grown, how it is designed, and how 
it is eaten. The plum, like many of the foods given an ode to by Neruda, is a local favorite of 
Chile. Of course, the plum is not solely relevant to Neruda for its devotion to his homeland if 
not also for its inherent sexuality which he so openly honors. The poet is not the first nor the 
last to make connections between food and love using the object of the plum. American poets, 
James Tipton and Helen Chasin, and Chilean writer Isabel Allende, for example, celebrate the 
feminine and sensual qualities embodied by the plum (Allende 53, 1991). In Afrodita, Allende 
writes that “like the peach, [the plum is] used in Chinese art as a symbol for a woman’s intimate 
parts” (Allende 155, 1996). Tipton contributes to Allende’s study of the plum as she references 
his haiku:  
Even though I have forgotten her 
I continue to eat  
Plum after plum…  
(Tipton 14, 2008) 
Like fruits observed in the work of Belli, the plum is quite human-like in its simple 
design. A thick skin, only penetrable by the sharpness of teeth which reveals a tough and wet 
flesh, all protecting the simplest and most secret seed held deep within. Therefore, for the 
purposes of allusion, metaphor, or basic politenesses, the plum has transformed itself in poetry 
and culture from a raw treat to a woman, or further, a vagina. Certainly, there are likenesses 
35 
 
between oral sex and the ritual of eating the plum. In his “Oda a la ciruela”, Neruda makes sure 
of this parallel, leaving the reader unsure if the poem is more about the spectacularity of the 
plum or the sexual feeling it evokes. What makes this ode most relevant to the study is the fact 
that Neruda makes one of food and love using the Chilean plum, particularly reaffirming an 
essential Latin American quality to the work.  
 “Oda a la ciruela” is more than a devotional message to the plum. It is a living example 
of the food-love connection and invites the reader to see the act of eating this fruit and the 
qualities of its physique as something beyond sustenance. Neruda introduces the special 
characteristics of the plum and the way it is consumed using personification. In the first stanza, 
he writes “la verde, la morada población de las frutas traslucía sus ágatas opales, sus crecientes 
pezones. [the green, the purple population of fruits projected its oval agates, its ripening 
nipples.]2” (Neruda, 9-14, 1954). The first sign, here, not only personifies the plum– it 
feminizes it. Neurda is bonded to the plum, associating it with a specific time in his life, “Yo, 
pequeño poeta, con los primeros ojos de la vida… balanceado bajo la arboladura de ciruelos [I, 
a young poet, using the early eyes of life… balancing under a canopy of plum trees.]3” (25-34, 
1954). Its smell, its shape, its constant presence in his formative years of youth all create an 
innocence or naivete to the plum, much like a virginity which is quickly taken in the following 
stanzas. 
 
 
2 Trans. by Ilan Stavans  
3 Trans. by Ilan Stavans 
36 
 
61                        Oh beso  Oh kiss 
de la boca of the lips  
en la ciruela,  on the plum,  
dientes y  teeth and  
65                         labios  lips  
llenos  full  
del ámbar oloroso,  of the fragrant amber 
¡de la líquida luz de la ciruela! of the liquid light of the plum!4 
 
At this mark of the fourth stanza, the reader is lifted to the poem’s climax. Suddenly, 
eating the plum is something more. Rather than a bite, chew, and swallow, Neruda lingers in 
the sensation of consuming the fruit as it becomes a kiss. The plum transcends the object and 
becomes irresistibly feminine in this moment, with her mouth, lips, teeth, and all. For the first 
time in the ode, Neruda garnishes his line with the exclamation points, insisting on a level of 
excitement over “¡la líquida luz de la ciruela! [the liquid light of the plum!] (68-69, 1954). After 
the peak, Neruda returns to an admiration of the structure of the plum’s nest as “ramaje de 
altos árboles severos y sombríos [branches of soaring trees, severe and somber]” (70-73, 1954). 
He is undeniably connected to the plum, not only for its fruit but also for its magnificent form. 
It brings the aging man back to his roots in the South of Chile.  
98                     Pero, otra vez,  But, again, 
otra vez  and again,  
vuelvo  I return  
a ser  to be 
aquel niño silvestre  that wild boy  
cuando  when  
en la mano levanto  in the hand I lift  
 
4 Trans. by Ilan Stavans 
37 
 
105                   una ciruela: a plum:  
con su luz with its light 
me parece  it looks  
que levanto  like I lift 
la luz del primer día  the light of the first day  
de la tierra,  of the Earth,  
el crecimiento  the growth 
del fruto y del amor of fruit and love 
en su delicia.  in its delight.5 
 
“Pero, otra vez, otra vez vuelvo a ser aquel niño silvestre [But, again, and again, I return to be 
that wild boy]”, he writes, sharing the transportative power of the simple fruit (Neruda 99-
103, 1954). Finally, Neruda transforms the message to something more biblical. Like “Amor de 
frutas'' by Gioconda Belli, Neruda’s work implies an Edenic quality “una ciruela: con su luz me 
parece que levanto la luz del primer día de la tierra [a plum: with its light it looks like I lift the 
light of the first day of the Earth]” (Neruda 105-110, 1954). He ends this peaceful phrase with 
the lines “el crecimineto del fruto y del amor en su delicia [the growth of fruit and love in its 
delight]”, defining the connection between food and love in his own terms (Neruda 111-113, 
1954).  
 For Neruda, the food (the plum) and love (embodied by memory, nostalgia, and 
sensuality) connect in a way which is unique to the other works explored in this project. To 
bite into the plum is to taste the past. The speaker not only devours his fruit, but relishes in its 
taste. Because of this, the plums' flavor is more significant to Neruda than just any fruit. It 
 
5 Trans. by Ilan Stavans 
38 
 
becomes special as a result of its roots in Chile and his great boyhood habit for the plum. This 
poem stands out as a model of the food-love connection in 20th Latin American literature from 
everything to Neruda’s beautiful diction and true story-telling capacity to the very structure 
of the work. “Oda a la ciruela” follows a pattern similar to a sexual encounter with a gentle 
beginning with crescendos into the sensual climax visible in the fourth stanza. This intimate 
crux plateaus into a melancholic recounting of childhood and finishes with the biblical 
sentiment of the Garden of Eden, reminding us of the relevance of the forbidden fruit in Latin 
American culture.  
2.3 “Soneto XI” (1959) by Pablo Neruda  
2.3.1 Observation  
 
Cien sonetos de amor [One Hundred Love Sonnets] (1959) is recognized as the 
paramount collection of romantic poetry dedicated to his mistress-to-wife, Matilde Urrutia. 
Cien sonetos de amor is chalked full of gorgeous intimacy, redefining what it means to love 
and feel loved in return. In their time spent together, Matilde had the power to touch Neruda 
to his very core, completely changing the way he viewed and experienced life. Had it not been 
for the inspiration of Matilde, Neruda would be without his muse and his readers, 100 love 
sonnets.  
The collection spans all expressions of love, using metaphor, repetition, anafora, 
symbolism, and incredible diction. There is one sonnet in particular which seems to leap off 
39 
 
of the page and into the reader’s abdomen for its sexuality and intrigue. Like Belli’s “Amor de 
frutas”, this poem too uses the themes of food and love, to make sense of Neruda’s deep feelings 
for Matilde. “Soneto XI” describes an attraction that is more of a craving than a longing. This 
stunning piece compares desire to hunger, making Matilde’s love as something which will 
sustain him in a way no food possibly could.  
2.3.2 Analysis 
“Soneto XI” exhibits a connection between food and love quite unique from the two 
previous works. Neruda doesn't simply use fruit as a conduit for sexual innuendo; instead, he 
intertwines the two themes by highlighting the parallels between appetite and lust. In his 11th 
sonnet, in order to make sense of his feelings for Matilde, Neruda transforms himself into the 
“puma de Quitratúe [puma from Quitratúe]6” (14, 1959). Perhaps if not for the puma, his 
passionate sentiments would not produce as much effect on the reader. With the “puma de 
Quitratúe”, Neruda guides the story in the pattern of a prowl or hunt, giving sense to his 
nonsensical love.  
1    Tengo hambre de tu boca, de tu voz, de I am hungry for your mouth, your voice, your 
tu pelo   hair.  
y por las calles voy sin nutrirme, callado,   Silent and starving, I prowl through the 
no me sostiene el pan, el alba me streets.  
desquicia,   Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts 
busco el sonido líquido de tus pies en el me, all day  
día.  
 
6 Trans. by Stephen Tapscott  
40 
 
I look for the liquid measure7 of your steps.8  
 
These first four lines are gorgeous, daring, and explicit. Immediately, Neruda defines 
the desire for his beloved as a craving such as one might have for food, “Tengo hambre de tu 
boca, de tu voz, de tu pelo [I am hungry for your mouth, your voice, your hair]” (1, 1959). 
Next, he writes “y por las calles voy sin nutrirme, callado [Silent and starving, I prowl through 
the streets]”-- giving the effect that the puma is hunting for her (Neruda 2, 1959). “No me 
sostiene el pan [Bread does not nourish me]”, he explains, “busco el sonido líquido de tus pies 
en el dia [All day I look for the liquid measure of your steps]” as the lover draws on the footsteps 
of his prey– Matilde (Neruda 3-4, 1959). This stanza is of enormous importance in terms of 
establishing the metaphors for food and love. It becomes so clear, at the aid of Neruda’s careful 
hand, that the sexual desire often felt for another takes on a similar shape and pattern to that 
of an animal seeking its next meal. In this stanza, he establishes a kind of diction which is 
maintained through the duration of the sonnet regarding hunger and desire with words such 
as hambre [hunger], sin nutrirme [starving], and sostiene [sustain].  
5          Estoy hambriento de tu risa I hunger for your sleek laugh,  
resbalada,   your hands the color of a savage harvest9,  
de tus manos color de furioso granero,   hunger for the pale stones of your 
tengo hambre de la pálida piedra de tus fingernails,  
uñas,   I want to eat your skin like a whole 
 
7 Trans. By Stephen Tapscott. While the translation of this poem is functional in conveying the original 
meaning of Neruda’s work, I would instead use the word “sound”.  
8 Trans. by Stephen Tapscott  
9 Trans. By Stephen Tapscott. While the translation of this poem is functional in conveying the original 
meaning of Neruda’s work, I would exchange the words “savage harvest” for “wild silo”.  
41 
 
quiero comer tu piel como una intacta almond.10  
almendra.   
 
In the following stanza, the speaker continues to describe the desire for his lover as a 
hunger. He writes, “estoy hambriento de tu risa resbalada, de tus manos… de la pálida piedra 
de tus uñas [I hunger for your sleek laugh, your hands, the pale stones of your fingernails]” 
(Neruda 5-7, 1959). Neruda finishes the stanza with the phrase, “quiero comer tu piel como 
una intacta almendra [I want to eat your skin like a whole almond11]” (Neruda 8, 1959). The 
diction pattern remains intact with words such as “hambriento [hungry]”, “hambre [hunger]”, 
“comer [to eat]”, and “almendra [almond]”. He hungers not only for her time and affection, 
but rather her physical qualities. The brutalist perspective of love maintained in the second 
stanza– one which is most physical– arrives to the reader with a certain objectification of 
Matilde.  
Neruda has often been associated with these poetic tendencies towards women, 
especially those with whom he has shared romantic relationships. Gloria Cepeda Vargas is one 
of many scholars to explore Neruda’s perception and portrayal of the feminine in his extensive 
body of work. In her essay “Pablo Neruda y la Mujer [Pablo Neruda and the Woman]”, she 
explains that  
 
10 Trans. by Stephen Tapscott 
11 Trans. by Stephen Tapscott. While the translation of this poem is functional in conveying the original 
meaning of Neruda’s work, I would instead say: “I want to eat your skin in one bite like an almond”.  
42 
 
“La mujer es para Neruda, a fuerza de complemento erótico, sensual, sexual o maternal, 
una extrapolación continua. El mundo entero lleno de bocas, de piernas, de sexos 
femeninos se le ofreció con largueza y él tomó lo que necesitaba en el momento en que 
lo necesitaba.” [The woman is for Neruda, by force of erotic, sensual, sexual or maternal 
complement, a continuous extrapolation. The whole world full of mouths, legs, female 
sexes was offered to him with generosity and he took what he needed the moment he 
needed it] (Cepeda Vargas 335, 2005).  
The truth is, Neruda’s history as a womanizer, as outlined by Cepeda Vargas, spans all the way 
from “los días de adolescencia hasta los otoñales vividos al lado de Matilde Urrutia [the days of 
adolescence until the autumns lived by the side of Matilde Urrutia]” (334, 2005). Despite this 
patterned behavior, something about Matilde called onto Neruda a certain insatiability. As a 
result of her importance to him, the works created in her honor depict a different approach to 
the feminine– something much more careful. True, Neruda makes references almost 
exclusively to the shape and quality of Matilde’s body. However, there is something so severely 
sincere to his words.  
9             Quiero comer el rayo quemado en I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your 
tu hermosura,   beauty  
la nariz soberana del arrogante rostro,   the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,  
quiero comer la sombra fugaz de tus I want to eat the fleeting shade of your 
pestañas   eyelashes,12  
 
 
12 Trans. by Stephen Tapscott  
43 
 
Neruda continues in the third stanza with a generous description of his lover's natural 
beauty, comparing it to “un rayo quemado [sunbeam]”. And, the details of her face become 
more and more abstract– an attention to detail only attributable to the gaze of love. Now, less 
flesh than ever before, he writes “quiero comer el rayo quemado en tu hermosura, la nariz 
soberana del arrogante rostro, quiero comer la sombra fugaz de tus pestañas [I want to eat the 
sunbeam flaring in your beauty, the sovereign nose of your arrogant face, I want to eat the 
fleeting shade of your eyelashes]” (Neruda 9-11, 1959). The “sovereign nose” on the “arrogant 
face” and the “fleeting shade” of the “eyelashes” feels more glorifying of the mystique of a 
woman than the objectifying counter-thesis from Cepeda Vargas. Perhaps, Neruda as the puma 
really does wish to eat Matilde, right down to each and every eyelash. Or, Neruda as the lover 
simply seeks to give praise to all of the spectacular qualities of his partner, right down to each 
and every eyelash. Regardless, he creates an intoxicating description of his desire towards her 
in a way which is most-sincere and attentive. And, again, the reader is given diction in 
accordance with the theme of food and love such as “quiero comer… [I want to eat…]” (Neruda 
12, 1959).  
 12           y hambriento vengo y voy       and I pace around hungry, sniffing the 
olfateando el crepúsculo   twilight,  
buscándote, buscando tu corazón caliente   hunting for you, for your hot heart,  
como un puma en la soledad de Quitratúe.  like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.13 
  
 
13 Trans. by Stephen Tapscott  
44 
 
Finally, the last stanza races towards the reader, inviting as much fear as lascivity. 
Neruda the puma returns for one ultimate prowl, “y hambriento vengo y voy olfateando el 
crepúsculo buscándote [and I pace around hungry, sniffling the twilight, hunting for you, for 
your hot heart]” (12-14, 1959). He searches for his Matilde in the night, looking to warm 
himself up with her “hot heart”. We are provided more images here of virginity as Neruda the 
puma wishes to take her alive, with the heart still beating full of life. This self-identification 
with the puma is something typical of Neruda, described by Cepeda Vargas as the  
“Animal madrugador y nocturno olfatea en el viento el olor de la hembra. Habitado por 
apetitos carnales recurrentes, la reivindicación de sus a veces poco selectivas cacerías, 
reside en el lenguaje hechizante… circunstancias que lo convierten en el amante 
aceptado y celebrado mundialmente” [Early-riser and nocturnal animal smells in the 
wind the scent of the female. Inhabited by recurring fleshly appetites, the vindication 
of his sometimes unselective hunts resides in the enchanting language… circumstances 
that make him the lover accepted and celebrated worldwide] (Cepeda Vargas 335, 
2005).  
The sonnet is finished with diction such as “hambriento [hungrily]” and “olfateando 
[sniffing]”, conveying a true sense of desire. It is more than an interest to search for someone, 
to seek them out, to hunt them down. Neruda goes to the extreme. He becomes the puma only 
in order to find the woman he loves and to make her a part of him.  
45 
 
2.4 Conclusion   
There are so many parts to this poem which invite a sexual interpretation. Despite the 
overarching message of food and love, Neruda enables a sensuality throughout “Soneto XI” to 
keep his readers entranced. The poem is mature. More than mature, it is seductive. But why? 
This feeling, this carnivorous predicament in which the speaker is in, to become an animal for 
his beloved, is a feeling less extraordinary than it is unusual. It is something that can be felt if 
not understood by all people, poets or not. The curious sensation realized upon the first bite of 
the ripe plum, dares the mind not to go certain places. One need not be a great romantic nor 
an outstanding literary person to recall how it once felt to yearn for someone. These feelings 
are honest, private, and humbling.  
How to make peace with oneself for developing such a craving for another in the same 
way one can’t wait to taste their favorite dish? To sink your teeth into someone, to use the 
mouth to express the depth of obsession felt in one's heart, to wish to become part of another 
and make them part of you… to eat them? This is the tangle of food and love bursting from 
the heart, forcing your mouth and mind to do whatever possible to nourish its hunger for that 
one person. One cannot separate nor differentiate the two, for as it is sung by Isabel Allende, 
the need to nourish oneself through food and fornication are at the very basis of our human 
existence (Allende 27, 1991). Aware of this, Neruda plays on the theme of love and food to 
create some of his most sexual poetry. 
 
46 
 
 
 
Chapter 3: Binge-Eating and Mania in Cien años de soledad (1967) by Gabriel García 
Márquez  
3.1 Introduction   
 Twentieth century Colombian literary master, Gabriel García Márquez, was made 
known around the world for his contributions of magical realism to the Latin American Boom. 
Of his countless texts, he is held in the highest regard for his novel Cien años de soledad [One 
Hundred Years of Solitude] written in 1967. While there is no doubt about the role of this 
novel in the modern literary canon, it is of greatest importance to uncover how this 
masterpiece came to be. García Márquez– intimately known as Gabo– was born in Aracataca, 
Colombia in 1927. He was raised in a non-conventional home under the care of his maternal 
grandparents until eight years old (Gabriel García Márquez – Biographical s/n). In this setting, 
he began absorbing the very early essence of creativity and literary technique. His grandfather 
notably shared tales about the origins of the local region and his grandmother gifted him ghost 
stories and other less likely fantasies (“Gabriel García Márquez.” s/n). From that point on, Gabo 
had a very distinct understanding of his caretakers– one occupied the real while the other, 
47 
 
supernatural. Aracataca, it seems, granted the Nobel Laureate his first sights on the 
entanglement of fiction and fact.  
After leaving Aracataca, García Márquez began a great migration around his home 
country. García Márquez spent very formative years of his life moving between Barranquilla, 
Bogotá, and Cartagena, all the while fortifying his craft for writing (“Gabriel García Márquez.” 
s/n). Though educated in law, the young Gabo looked to journalism as a means for stability 
and a chance to write. Before the age of 30, he had already worked in the professional setting 
at newspapers such as El Universal of Cartagena, El Heraldo of Barranquilla, and El Espectador 
of Bogotá. In these cities he found community with other local artists and thinkers, strongly 
influenced at all times by modernist writers such as James Joyce, William Faulkner, Virginia 
Woolf, and Ernest Hemingway (“Gabriel García Márquez.” s/n).  
Cien años de soledad poses as much difficulty to read as it did to write. At only 23, 
García Márquez made his first attempt to write the story of the Buendia family. It wasn’t until 
17 years later that it was finally published (“Gabriel García Márquez.” s/n). In fact, the 
Colombian spent over 15 years working on the story, each version maintaining its focus on the 
Buendias and the town of Macondo. Eventually, in 1965, he decided it was time to lock himself 
in and finish the novel. He was strongly empowered by his friends, family, and literary 
contemporaries who recognized the importance of the completion of such an epic.  
While crafting Cien años de soledad, Gabo corresponded with friends and fellow 
writers across Latin America and Europe, sharing progress updates on the novel. He also read 
sections and chapters to his close circle of friends and visitors at home, seeking their feedback. 
48 
 
Worried about its market reception, he gauged interest by releasing excerpts from various 
chapters in magazines with readership based in countries around the world (“Gabriel García 
Márquez.” s/n). In light of these efforts to create something worth reading, when the novel 
was published in May 1967, it garnered immediate international attention and praise. It is hard 
to say what the career and legacy of García Márquez would look like were he not so committed 
to bringing his dreams of Macondo to life. So too is it difficult to comprehend a body of 
international literature vacant of his genius piece.  
 Cien años de soledad tells the story of the Buendía family line and their collective 
existence in the fictitious rural town of Macondo. Iconically, the novel, family, and town all 
rise and fall as one, hardening their interconnection. The novel opens with Jose Arcadio 
Buendía and Úrsula, the patriarch and matriarch of the family which subsequently bear seven 
more generations. In the beginning, Macondo remained isolated from the modernizing world 
around it, all apart from occasional visits of traveling gypsies. Early on, José Arcadio Buendía, 
is characterized by his impulsive curiosity, leading him to delve into mysterious pursuits and 
distance himself from others. He is the first character of great solitude.  
These traits are passed down to his descendants throughout the novel. His eldest son, 
José Arcadio, inherits his father's strength and impulsiveness, while his younger son, 
Aureliano, inherits his intense, mysterious focus. As the village eventually connects with 
neighboring towns, its innocence is gradually lost. Civil unrest ensues, marking a stark 
departure from the once tranquil atmosphere. 
49 
 
The novel, as implied by the title, takes place over the course of a century. As a result, 
the author moves through the details of each character’s life in terms of major events such as: 
birth, a heavy focus on childhood, marriages, affairs, and deaths. For many readers, it is this 
repetition which makes it so hard to close the novel on the last page. The resilient matriarch, 
Ursula Iguarán, holds onto the belief in her family's destined greatness and works tirelessly to 
maintain unity despite their differences. However, the encroaching forces of modernity 
(symbolized by imperialist capitalism) wreak havoc on both the Buendía family and the village 
of Macondo. Soon tensions rise with the arrival of an American-owned banana plantation, 
exploiting both land and labor. When the mistreatment of banana workers sparks a violent 
strike, leading to a massacre by the army, years of relentless rain flood Macondo, leaving it 
virtually destroyed.  
Amidst the chaos, the Buendía family face their own demise. The novel concludes 
much like it began, with Macondo returning to solitude and isolation. The remaining Buendía 
members retreat into themselves, disconnected from the world and destined for a solitary fate. 
In the final scene, the last surviving Buendía deciphers ancient prophecies, realizing that their 
lives have merely been a predetermined cycle of beauty and tragic sorrow. It is curious how 
inspired this novel is by García Márquez’s youth and his experiences spent in Colombia. From 
the quaint rural nature of Macondo right down to the massacre at the banana plantation, the 
connections between Cien años de soledad and the personal life of the author are undeniable.  
50 
 
3.2 Observation  
Cien años de soledad is a key novel to this study for the way in which it does not center 
on the Latin American food-love connection. Unlike the poetry examined in the previous 
chapters which are entirely dedicated to the depiction of this theme, Cien años de soledad 
quite nonchalantly folds food and love into the larger plot dynamics at hand. This sort of 
inclusion is necessary for a holistic view of the theme, because it demonstrates to the reader 
that food and love inspire a relationship between one another in a very natural and 
unintentional way in this region’s literature. Of course, the novel is chalked full of romance 
and important scenes of food which exist independently. For example, in the 2013 journal, 
“Food Fights: The Intertextuality of Food in Cien años de soledad and Gabriela, cravo e canela”, 
Chris T. Schulenburg points out that there is “a lethal and soon-to-be-globalized variation of 
this aesthetic treatment of food” presented in Cien años de soledad (Schulenburg 74, 2013). As 
Schulenburg puts it in Theory in Action, “the banana crop in Cien años, shared violent 
connotations with economic imperialism”, underscoring the relevance of food in the novel as 
a means of the geopolitical context in which Macondo is fastened (Schulenburg 74, 2013). This 
quality and treatment of food is made most apparent in his research through the banana and 
the echo of its production, harvest, and violent industry.  
However, it is more interesting to the purposes of this study when the two themes 
nestle together. True, there is a sprinkling of food-love metaphors throughout the novel during 
any given period of the 100 years. For example, it can be seen by Aureliano Segundo’s infidelity 
51 
 
being demonstrated in his mealtime practices as he lived with his concubine, Petra Cotes, but 
always returned to his nuclear home in order to spend dinner with his wife, Fernanda del 
Carpio (García Márquez 295, 1967). Or how, during the Civil War which breaks out in the 
second half of the novel, military tactics were held hostage to the deep-seeded belief that two 
hours were needed in order to digest food before any activities of love or war (García Márquez 
303, 1967). So too the horrible monsoon which holds Macondo in a wet state of futility brings 
up issues for food and love. In these weather conditions, Aureliano Segundo “había [sido] 
puesto a salvo de toda emergencia pasional, y le había infundido la serenidad esponjosa de la 
inapetencia. [had been put safe from any passionate emergency, and had infused him with the 
fluffy serenity of inappetite.]14” (García Márquez 359, 1967). Later, once he forms a 
relationship with a local prostitute, Nigromanta, the intimate endurance of the two is 
described, “Casi siempre, entre amor y amor, comían desnudos en la cama, en el calor 
alucinante y bajo las estrellas diurnas… [Almost always, between rounds of intercourse, they 
would eat naked in bed, in the hallucinatory heat and under the daytime stars…]15” (García 
Márquez 438, 1967). Finally, food and love connect quite naturally in a highly unnatural 
relationship. One of many instances of incest within the Buendía family calls for generations 
to cross as Aureliano of the sixth generation begins a romance with his aunt, Amaranta Úrsula. 
In their fits of great passion, the two would find themselves making love “a las dos de la tarde 
 
14 Trans. by Gregory Rabassa  
15  Trans. by Gregory Rabassa  
52 
 
en la mesa del comedor, que a las dos de la madrugada en el granero [at two in the afternoon 
on the dining table as at two in the morning in the pantry]16 (García Márquez 457, 1967).  
Even so, there is a pattern in the plot which works to define the connection between 
food and love that is far more tantalizing. This rule is to do with the act of binge eating in the 
conditions of mania or obsessive love. Cien años de soledad stands out from others of its time 
for the way in which it so uniquely characterizes love. Throughout his career, García Márquez 
depicts love in a wonderful variety. Possibly his most famous representations of romantic love 
can be found in Del amor y otros demonios [Of Love And Other Demons] (1994) or El amor 
en los tiempos del cólera [Love in the Time of Cholera] (1985). While these novels are centered 
on epic sensuality, it is not to say that gripping love cannot be found in his other, less romance-
centered works.  
The love stories featured in Cien años de soledad have a tendency to be disturbing, 
strange, and deeply passionate. The original partnership between José Arcadio Buendía and 
Úrsula Iguarán provides the reader a first look at love and family dynamics. Their marriage is 
a demonstration of strength and commitment to another as throughout their long lives, both 
hold immense dedication to supporting one another. With frequent occasion, Úrsula stands in 
for the both of them as José Arcadio rotates in and out of stages of obsession, mental instability, 
and the like. Stemming out from the matriarch and patriarch of the Buendía family, there are 
several other unique formations of love pictured in the novel.  
 
16  Trans. by Gregory Rabassa  
53 
 
3.3 Analysis   
3.3.1 Rebeca Buendía  
One such relationship is the triangle of unrequited love existing between Amaranta, 
Rebeca, and Pietro Crispi. Pietro Crispi, the Italian foreigner, enters Macondo and makes his 
way into the hearts and minds of the Buendía’s in an unforgettable way. Crispi’s character is 
the microscope to the dynamic of the second generation. His function is simply to be a motor 
of affection, first directed at Rebeca, then given to Amaranta. Once he is rejected twice, unable 
to fulfill his purpose, Pietro Crispi takes his own life.  
Rebeca is a unique character who brings with her a great deal of mystery and charm. 
For the purpose of her romantic involvement, it is essential to understand Rebeca, first as an 
orphan, who arrives on the doorstep of the Buendía home. She is so different to the Buendía 
canon, in fact, that Dr. Nabila Naimi understands that  
“the reader is much like the adopted character of Rebeca, who mysteriously shows up 
at the doorstep of the strange family one day and must quickly overcome a vast inability 
to recognize anything around her and then attempt to try to make sense of the 
disconnected family she  now calls her own” (Naimi 101, 2016).  
Dr. Naimi explains that she is thus, much like an observer to the wilderness of drama that 
flows out of the Buendía house. As an outsider strongly maintained by her devout solitude, 
Rebeca demonstrates throughout her entire life what it means to be within and without.  
54 
 
Upon her introduction, the qualities of daily life in Macondo began to change. As a 
young girl, Rebeca is understood to be quite strange and as time passes, she develops into an 
enigmatic woman. She is known for her quiet demeanor and infectious mystery. Men, namely 
Pietro Crispi and her adoptive brother, José Arcadio Buendía, the eldest son of the second 
generation of the Buendía family, view Rebeca with a great yearning.  
Though she is brought up alongside the second generation Buendías, her differing 
biological origins are impossible to ignore. Her past is largely unseen, though whatever Rebeca 
suffered through had influenced her time in Macondo in very visible ways. First, there are 
episodes of emotional explosivity where she is hit with great waves of sadness. These hikes in 
emotion lead to prolonged periods of solitude, which she passes in bed or face-first on the 
bathroom walls. As a young woman, she continued with several habits of infancy, such as 
thumb-sucking, and rocking in the small wooden chair of her early youth. Of all of her quirks, 
however, Rebeca is remembered most for her obsessive consumption of dirt.  
There is a rich bed of theory relating to Rebeca and her taste for earth, leaving open 
many directions for interpretation. However, if one thing remains clear, it is that this habit 
was one of deep self-harm. To some scholars on Cien años de soledad, this habit was more of 
a ritual as Karen Orene Hayes put it, “...Rebeca Buendía had to conquer harmful, self-inflicted 
rituals which affected her health, such as eating dirt and whitewash from the walls of the 
home” (Hayes 29, 2006). Rebeca’s first re-encounter with dirt occurs fairly early into the novel. 
Zoning out of conversation, she gazes into the courtyard and notices the little earthworms 
lifting up small mounds of dirt. This image calls upon blurry memories of her past in which 
55 
 
she used to indulge herself in the chocolatey grounds before she was treated for her urges with 
a harsh diet (García Marquez 79, 1967). Convinced that her memory misled her and in order 
to squash the craving, she decides to try a bit of dirt, until “... poco a poco fue rescantando el 
apetito ancestral, el gusto de los minerales primarios, la satisfacción sin resquicios del alimento 
original. [little by little she was getting back her ancestral appetite, the taste of primary 
minerals, the unbridled satisfaction of what was the original food]17” (García Márquez 79, 
1967). Suddenly, Rebeca is engaged in a massive episode of binge-eating, “se echaba peinados 
de tierra en los bolsillos, y los comía a granitos sin ser vista, con un confuso sentimiento de 
dicha y de rabia… [she would put handfuls of earth in her pockets, and ate them in small bites 
without being seen, with a confused feeling of pleasure and rage…]18” (García Márquez 79, 
1967). As soon as her addiction is reignited, it becomes clear that for Rebeca, she is satiating 
something more than a craving for the taste of dirt. Rather, she is gorging herself so as to 
demonstrate,  
“el único hombre que merecía aquella degradación, como si el suelo que él pisaba con 
sus finas botas de charol en otro lugar del mundo, le transmitiera a ella el peso y la 
temperatura de su sangre en un sabor mineral que dejaba un rescoldo áspero en la boca 
y un sedimento de paz en el corazón  [the only man who deserved that show of 
degradation… as if the ground that he walked on with his fine patent leather boots in 
another part of the world were transmitting to her the weight and temperature of his 
 
17  Trans. by Gregory Rabassa  
18  Trans. by Gregory Rabassa  
56 
 
blood in a mineral davor that left a harsh aftertaste in her mouth and a sediment of 
peace in her heart]19” (García Márquez 80, 1967).  
At this point in the novel, Rebeca’s attention is on Pietro Crispi, the wayward Italian. 
As her feelings for him progress, this temptation for earth becomes a means for relief. After 
not receiving her usual letter from Crispi, García Márquez writes, “Loca de desesperación, 
Rebeca se levantó a media noche y comió peinados de tierra en el jardín, con una avidez 
suicida, llorando de dolor y de furia, masticando lombrices tiernas y astillandose las muelas con 
huesos de caracoles [mad with desperation, Rebeca got up in the middle of the night and ate 
handfuls of earth in the garden with a suicidal drive, weeping with pain and fury, chewing 
tender worms and chipping their molars with snail bones]20” (82, 1967).  
But then, her obsession with Crispi is interrupted, as her adoptive brother steals her 
gaze in an instant. José Arcadio Buendía infiltrates the mind and heart of Rebeca as soon as he 
returns from his journey at sea. Next to Pietro Crispi, José Arcadio was a “protomacho cuya 
respiración volcánica se percibía en toda la casa [protomale whose volcanic breathing could be 
heard all over the house]21” (García Márquez 112, 1967). With as much haste and blustery as 
his return to the Buendía house, he made his claim on Rebeca with the simple line, “Eres muy 
mujer, hermanita [You’re a woman, little sister]22” (García Márquez 112-113, 1967). From this 
point forth, Rebeca’s tumultuous disposition for infatuation was entirely dedicated to her 
 
19  Trans. by Gregory Rabassa  
20  Trans. by Gregory Rabassa  
21  Trans. by Gregory Rabassa  
22  Trans. by Gregory Rabassa  
57 
 
brother. In fact, just as soon as she earns José Arcadio’s attention does she begin again feasting 
on dirt and the lime washed walls. García Márquez writes immediately after, “Rebeca perdió 
el dominio de su misma. Volvió a comer tierra y cal de las paredes con la avidez de otros días, 
y se chupó el dedo con tanta ansiedad que se le formó un callo en el pulgar. [Rebeca lost control 
of herself. She went back to eating earth and the whitewash on the walls with the avidity of 
previous days, and she sucked her finger with so much anxiety that she developed a callus on 
her thumb.]23” (112-113, 1967)  
3.3.2 Aureliano Segundo  
The second in the long list of peculiar love is the makeshift marriage between Aureliano 
Segundo and Fernanda del Carpio. The string that bonds these two is limited to formalities and 
propriety, as Aureliano Segundo is a committed adulterer to Petra Cotes, a concubine kept 
within the reach of the Buendía line. Aureliano Segundo is characteristic for his gluttony, 
pictured as much in his dedication to unfaithful sex as in his relationship with food. Though 
Aureliano Segundo and his Great Aunt, Rebeca, have no biological connection, they do share 
this disordered quality.  
Aureliano Segundo is, in every part of his life, a glutton. His insatiable need for 
attention, love, and entertainment are impossible to meet for either his wife, mistress, or 
children. As a result, much of his time in the present tense of the novel is spent in a great 
struggle to find satisfaction. Yet, Aureliano Segundo did not begin his life in this manner. In 
 
23  Trans. by Gregory Rabassa  
58 
 
fact, the initiation of this indulgent way of life can be traced back to Petra Cotes coaxing him 
out of his own solitude and into her feminine space. Not only was Petra Cotes a fixture of 
desire in his life due to her own personal sensuality, but also due to the fact that:  
“Petra was Aureliano Segundo’s first sexual relationship, and she felt as if she had 
changed his demeanor by her erotic endeavors. Petra felt personally responsible for 
drawing out another side of his personality, giving him a lust for life and changing his 
solemn and solitary character into a vital male figure” (Hayes 70, 2006). 
Unfortunately, be it with women or food, he seems to meet his demise before achieving such 
a feat.  
The triangle of Aureliano Segundo, Fernanda del Carpio, and Petra Cotes is first 
introduced in Chapter 10, and continues plowing into the mainframe of the plot until nearly 
the end of the novel. Aureliano Segundo seeks out Petra Cotes in order to fulfill a part of his 
life which his wife finds herself unable. As previously described, Aureliano Segundo is a man 
of deep want and need. Therefore, when Fernanda del Carpio expresses little interest in 
engaging in sexual activities outside of the necessary, her husband looks to other women. Yet, 
rather than release Fernanda from her material duties altogether, “Aureliano Segundo felt he 
needed both women to make his life complete. He loved both women but needed Petra for the 
sexual side of love more than his wife, Fernanda” (Hayes 75, 2006). However, this adultery is 
very unlike the typical case. For extended periods of time, Aureliano Segundo is completely 
moved into Petra Cotes’ home, only visiting his wife and children for rituals of traditional 
families such as dinner or church. Though Fernanda is less sexual than her partner, his 
59 
 
ceaseless dedication to the other woman in his life does a great deal of harm to her quality of 
life and self-perception, ultimately contributing to her very bitter death.  
Sex, however, is not the only expression of gluttony from Aureliano Segundo. Chapter 
13 marks an event in which Aureliano Segundo, the gorger, makes his temptations public. At 
this point in time, Aureliano Segundo and Fernanda are already wed, and so too has his 
relationship with Petra Cotes come into full effect. To mark the reigniting of their feelings for 
each other, García Márquez writes, “era tan apremiante la pasión restaurada, que en más de 
una ocasión se miraron a los ojos cuando se disponían a comer, y sin decirse nada taparon los 
platos y se fueron a morir de hambre y de amor en el dormitorio. [The restored passion was so 
compelling, that on more than one occasion they looked into each other’s eyes when they 
were about to eat, and without saying anything, they covered the dishes and went to die of 
hunger and love in the bedroom.]24” (291, 1967). Almost as soon as he finds himself sleeping 
with Petra Cotes, his livestock and other farm animals begin procreating madly just the same 
and suddenly, Aureliano Segundo’s business, romances, and taste for food become greater than 
ever before (García Márquez 292, 1967).  
It’s very apparent at this point that the author is confident expressing a food-love 
connection. However, nearing the middle of Chapter 13, the theme becomes obvious. 
Eventually, the lore of his immense obesity moves up and down the coast and soon, Macondo 
is visited by the country’s “glotones mejor calificados [best-qualified gluttons]25” (García 
 
24  Trans. by Gregory Rabassa  
25  Trans. by Gregory Rabassa  
60 
 
Márquez 292, 1967). Upon their arrival, a tournament-style eating contest begins, and all 
competitors wish to dethrone the vast capacity of Aureliano Segundo. After eliminating eater 
after eater, Aureliano Segundo finds himself face to face with La Elefanta [the Elephant], 
prepared to battle for the title.  
Something very peculiar occurs in this final feast. When Aureliano Segundo first makes 
eyes with La Elefanta, rather than finding himself intimidated or repulsed by her sheer size, 
he is aroused. “Era gigantesca y maciza, pero contra la corpulencia colosal prevalecía la ternura 
de la femineidad, y tenía un rostro tan hermoso… que cuando Aureliano Segundo la vio entrar 
a la casa comentó en voz baja que hubiera preferido hacer el torneo en la mesa sino en la cama 
[She was gigantic and sturdy, but over her colossal form a tenderness of femininity prevailed 
and she had a face that was so beautiful… that when Aureliano Segundo saw her enter the 
house he commented in a low voice that he would have preferred to have the tournament in 
bed and not at the table]26” (García Márquez 293, 1967).  
Of course, their feast matched their physical grandeur. Long days of eating and short 
nights of sleep, the two managed the juice of forty oranges, eight quarts of coffee, thirty raw 
eggs, two pigs, an entire bunch of bananas, four cases of champagne, two roast turkeys, and 
more. The competitors powered through the meals with confidence, despite their differing 
strategies. Unfortunately for Aureliano Segundo, his style for gorging himself in between 
energetic conversation with friends, laughter, and hosting the crowd left him exhausted and 
 
26 Trans. by Gregory Rabassa  
61 
 
put at the discretion of La Elefanta. Afterall, Aureliano Segundo competed with his natural 
tendency to binge while his female counterpart “había aprendido a comer siendo ya una 
respetable madre de familia, buscando un método para que sus hijos se alimenten mejor y no 
mediante estímulos artificiales del apetito sino mediante la absoluta tranquilidad del Espíritu 
[had already learned to eat as a respectable mother of family, looking for a method for her 
children to feed themselves better and not by artificial stimuli of appetite but by the absolute 
tranquility of the Spirit]27” (293).  
Seeing his state of sheer agony, La Elefanta offers a truce which Aureliano Segundo 
interprets as another challenge. He continues, then, to inhale the turkey set before him until 
he eventually can swallow no more. Into a plate full of bones he falls unconscious, face down 
and is resuscitated and recuperated in the home of his second woman. Finally, the beast is 
bested, and by the same woman he once looked at as an overweight beauty waiting to be 
discovered. 
3.4 Conclusion   
Rebeca’s habit signals self-destructive behavior and, a step further, can be interpreted 
as masochism. Her urges towards consuming earth are a different level of desire than what has 
been formerly looked at in this study. What Rebeca is experiencing is in many respects, an 
addiction and eating disorder. It is difficult to say whether or not this binging is meant to be 
interpreted through the lens of fantasy or reality as many of the consequential symptoms do 
 
27  Trans. by Gregory Rabassa  
62 
 
follow reality. For example, the chronic stomach pain and vomiting which follows these 
sequences in the garden allude to a very real repercussion. But despite the reality of it all, the 
message remains true– Rebeca, as a sexually repressed person, satiates her urges towards the 
men around her. This, poetically, leads to her own gratification and personal detriment.  
Aureliano Segundo, on the other hand, also experiences a binge relationship with food 
to fulfill obsession. He eats and fornicates and spends his income at a detrimental rate and 
never looks back once. Aureliano Segundo is an indulgent man, who abuses food and sex and 
as a result, finds them meeting one another in unusual places. At the eating contest, he 
witnesses his concubine providing all of the food necessary to put on such an event and at the 
same time awakens an arousal for the largest woman in the country, simply for the way she is 
able to gorge with such calm and measure. He is fulfilled never, and only until his face smacks 
against a rack of poultry bones does he realize such a thing.  
Food and love is very alive in the literary imagination of the great Gabriel García 
Márquez. His genius provides a sliver of clarity in the chaos that is Cien años de soledad 
through the prolonged use of food-love metaphors. He communicates details of intimacy, 
family, and care through the use of food and cooking. He harnesses the similarities between 
hunger and desire. In his masterpiece novel, García Márquez points to libido, craving, 
obsession, and binging and decides to unite them in a royal effort to tell the story of the 100-
year family. The Buendía line makes little sense. Their romantic endeavors, even less. Yet, 
through the connection between food and love, the carnal tenacity strung between 
generations is made clear.  
63 
 
 
Chapter 4: To Cook and to Love in Como agua para chocolate (1989) by Laura Esquivel  
4.1 Introduction   
Laura Esquivel was born into the cultural canvas of 1950s Mexico City. Formed in this 
vibrant setting, Esquivel eventually began her professional career as a kindergarten teacher 
seeking new ways to engage and inspire her students. Unsatisfied with the children’s literature 
available to her, she decided to create works of her own, lighting the spark of what would later 
become a fervent passion for writing. In 1989, Esquivel published her first novel, Como agua 
para chocolate [Like Water for Chocolate], which quickly became a Mexican and later 
American bestseller. Seeing its popularity, Como agua para chocolate was developed into a 
Spanish language film in 1993 by Alfonso Arau, which also went on to win several awards. 
This novel-to-film garnered Esquivel worldwide attention and set the tone for what became a 
fruitful career in culturally celebrated literature.   
This story is set along the political landscape of turn-of-the twentieth century Mexico. 
Centered on Tita, the youngest of three De La Garza girls, Como agua para chocolate is an 
exhilarating love story facilitated through the powers of food. The plot is fastened on an 
inquiry of marriage on the part of Tita’s true love, Pedro. As was custom in nineteenth and 
64 
 
twentieth century Mexico, Mama Elena De La Garza rejected Pedro’s plea for Tita’s hand, 
citing the long-held tradition of the youngest daughter remaining unwed in order to care for 
her aging parents. As a compromise, Mama Elena offers Rosaura, her second eldest, as an 
eligible bride. Pedro painfully accepts, willing to marry Tita’s sister if only to stay close to her. 
Furious at the destruction of her fantasy, Tita falls into a deep depression, igniting what 
eventually becomes a pattern of emotional transmission through her cooking.   
Tita was not a normal child. Her struggles in life seemed to begin from the moment of 
her birth when her mother was unable to provide her with breast milk. To keep this infant 
nourished, the family cook, Nacha, took to caring for Tita and feeding her using alternative 
methods. She satiated her through homemade teas until she was old enough to try solid foods, 
introducing her to the gift of Mexican cuisine. Nacha was more for Tita than just the nana of 
the De La Garza home. Rather, she was a maternal home in which Tita nestled after a 
childhood of incessant disapproval from Mama Elena. Nacha also found a special place in her 
heart for Tita, spending hours together in the warmth of the kitchen, cooking and learning 
from one another. It is from this peculiar formation in the kitchen that Tita becomes so close 
to food and unlike her sisters, possesses more than a skill, but a power in culinary art.   
The novel is staged in twelve chapters, each defined by a classic Mexican recipe: Tortas 
de navidad [Christmas Rolls], Pastel chabela [Chabela Wedding Cake], Cordornices en pétalos 
de rosas [Quail in Rose Petal Sauce], Mole de guajalote con almendra y ajonjolí [Turkey Mole 
with Almonds and Sesame Seeds], Chorizo norteño [Northern Style Chorizo], Masa para hacer 
fósforos [A Recipe for making Matches], Caldo de colita de res [Oxtail Soup], Champandongo, 
65 
 
Chocolate y rosca de reyes [Chocolate and Three Kings’ Day Bread], Torrejas de natas [Cream 
Fritters], Frijoles gordos con chile a la Tezcucana [Beans with Chile Tezcucana-Style], and 
Chiles en nogada [Chiles in Walnut Sauce]. In this organizational style, Esquivel conceives a 
perfectly balanced plot of storytelling and directed recipes instruction which flows in and out 
of narration objectives which is self-described as a book “que narra en cada una de sus recetas 
esta historia de amor enterrada [that narrates this buried love story in each of her recipes.]28” 
(Esquivel 247, 1989). At points throughout the beginning, middle, and end of each chapter, 
Esquivel weaves in an oral account of each recipe. This style is inventive and accelerates the 
excitement of digging into each month’s tale.  
4.2 Observation  
 Como agua para chocolate truly is the inspiration for this project. The novel is daring 
in storytelling, eroticism, and character arcs, but what makes it most iconic is the way it so 
beautifully relates food and love. Examples of this thematic connection are abundant 
throughout the entirety of Esquivel’s work, as this love story is told through the cooking and 
devouring of traditional Mexican meals. The novel begins with the saying “A la mesa y a la 
cama, una sola vez se llama [to the table and to bed, are only called out once]29” (Esquivel s/n). 
From beginning to end, food and feeling are one in the same. The third person omniscient 
narrator ushers the reader to see that Tita sorts her feelings through food or objects of the 
 
28  Trans. by Carol and Thomas Christensen  
29 Trans. by Carol and Thomas Christensen 
66 
 
kitchen. For example, “Se sentía completamente vacía como un platón al que solo le quedan 
las migajas de lo que fue un excelente pastel [She felt completely empty, like a big plate that 
only has the crumbs left of what was an excellent cake]30” (Esquivel 210, 1989). In Tita’s case, 
this empathetic observation is relatively tame. In general, Tita feels all emotions with a cruel 
depth. When she is sad, it is as if she is at the bottom of a well, dodging waves of her own tears. 
When it comes to feelings of lust, Tita experiences thoughts and physical reactions which 
completely push the boundaries of what is seen as traditionally and privately appropriate.  
There are four primary types of love expressed in Como agua para chocolate: Eros 
(romantic love), storge (familial love), agape (selfless love), and philautia (self-love). The first, 
most easily identified is eros or romantic love. Eros exists between Tita and Pedro, Gertrudis 
and Juan, and Alex and Esperanza. The novel, significantly centered on romantic love, shows 
many examples of sensuality, eroticism, as well as more tame loving gestures. However, what 
makes this story unique from the next, is the way it enables the creation and endurance of love 
through food.  
4.3 Analysis 
4.3.1 Food-Body Metaphor  
Having grown up in the conditions of the kitchen, Tita learned empathy and 
understanding through cooking. Esquivel makes this quite clear early in her writing, 
 
30 Trans. by Carol and Thomas Christensen 
67 
 
describing that “este inusitado nacimiento determinó el hecho de que Tita sintiera un inmenso 
amor por la cocina y que la mayor parte de su vida la pasara en ella. [this unusual birth 
determined the fact that Tita felt an immense love for the kitchen and that she spent most of 
her life in it]31” (4, 1989). But, this literary tool doesn’t only function in this regard. Food itself 
is also used “as a metaphor to convey affection and love” (Naimi 78, 2016). So in this sense, 
food is both a device of artistic censorship, as well as a metaphor of the production and 
dissemination of love. As a result, when she comes into her feelings for Pedro, she makes sense 
of them through the buñuelo [fritter]. Tita’s unique ability to draw similarities between food 
and feeling is first present early in the novel: 
“En ese momento comprendió perfectamente lo que debe sentir la masa de un buñuelo 
al entrar en contacto con el aceite hirviendo. Era tan real la sensación de calor que 
invadía todo su cuerpo que ante el temor de que, como a un buñuelo, le empezaran a 
brotar burbujas por todo el cuerpo– la cara, el vientre, el corazón, los senos–... [At that 
moment she understood perfectly what the dough of a fritter must feel when it comes 
into contact with boiling oil. The sensation of heat that invaded her whole body was so 
real that when she feared that, like a fritter, bubbles would begin to sprout all over her 
body – her face, her belly, her heart, her breasts…]32” ( Esquivel 15). 
This moment is the beginning of several food-body metaphors which Esquivel creates. Tita 
considers the sensation of a bubbling dough when looking back on the way Pedro’s eyes once 
 
31 Trans. by Carol and Thomas Christensen 
32 Trans. by Carol and Thomas Christensen 
68 
 
met hers at Christmas the year before. Tita understands her sexuality here, with the aid of the 
fried fritters. It makes sense to her, then, the excitement of a sensual look and the way it 
impacts her body with the same energy that forces dough to expand in hot oil. Here, Tita 
recognizes the feelings of cooking and undeniably forges a connection between food and love 
which will live on for the rest of the novel.  
This relationship with food is breathed into the next generation too. The buñuelo and 
all of it’s connotation returns again at the very end of the novel when Esperanza, Tita’s niece, 
meets Alex, “Cuando Esperanza le dijo a Tita que al recibir la mirada de Alex sobre su cuerpo 
ella se había sentido como la masa de un buñuelo entrando al aceite hirviendo, Tita supo que 
Alex y Esperanza se unieron irremediablemente. [When Esperanza told Tita that upon 
receiving Alex's gaze on her body she had felt like the dough of a fritter entering the boiling 
oil, Tita knew that Alex and Esperanza were irretrievably united.]33” (Esquivel 239, 1989). 
 This special theme is placed throughout Tita’s love story. Esquivel brilliantly uses food-
body metaphors to explain events which would otherwise be too explicit for the general 
audience. These exchanges of growth in the sense of self can be understood as a food-body 
metaphor or connection. Esquivel employs these metaphors as often as possible, as they hold 
two grand purposes. Firstly, the food-body metaphors help the reader grasp Tita and her 
complicated past. Though she did not grow up in a home which promoted emotional 
expression or deep feeling, she still forged an outlet for her sentiments in food. Secondly, as 
 
33 Trans. by Carol and Thomas Christensen 
69 
 
Jenison Alisson dos Santos and Ana Cristina Marinho Lúcio put it, Laura Esquivel “utiliza 
recursos gastronômicos em sua narrativa para recodificar e ressignificar a expressão de 
sentimentos de suas personagens, como amor, ódio, austeridade e ressentimento. [makes use of 
the gastronomic resources in her narrative to recode and resignify the expression of feelings 
by her characters, such as love, hate, austerity and resentment]34” (Santos et. al. 1).  
Dos Santos and Marinho Lúcio go on to explain that,  
“abordar o romance de Esquivel a partir do escopo proposto nos permite identificar a 
comida e seu consumo não apenas isoladamente como um processo biológico, mas 
também como uma possibilidade de perceber, sentir e ler o mundo e as relações 
interpessoais através de uma ressonância emocional oferecida pelo dado culinário 
[approaching Esquivel’s novel through the affective scope allows us to recognize food 
and its consumption not only as a biological process, but also as a possibility to perceive, 
feel and read the world and the interpersonal relations through an emotional resonance 
enabled by the culinary presence]35” (Santos et. al. 1).  
This tactic can be seen in effect when Esquivel writes scenes at the dining table in which 
characters experiencing anger, arousal, sadness, and more also have that interaction with their 
meal. Take for example, when Tita is unexpectedly joined in the kitchen by Pedro in the early 
months of his marriage. The very act of her cooking arouses him in a way best described 
through the physical processes of the kitchen,  
 
34  Trans. by Santos et. al.  
35  Trans. by Santos et. al.  
70 
 
“El sonido de las ollas al chocar unas contra otras, el olor de las almendras dorándose en 
el comal, la melodiosa voz de Tita, que contaba mientras cocinaba, había despertado su 
instinto sexual… [The sound of the pots clashing against each other, the smell of 
almonds browning on the griddle, Tita's melodious voice, which she told as she cooked, 
had awakened his sexual instinct…]36” (Esquivel 66, 1989).   
In this passage, Esquivel defines the sensuality of cooking, paying extra attention to the 
featured foods and the physical motions of Tita, watched with a beating heart by Pedro. She 
goes on to explain that “... estos sonidos y olores, sobre todo el del ajonjolí dorado, le 
anunciaban a Pedro la proximidad de un verdadero placer culinario. [... these sounds and 
smells, especially that of the golden sesame, announced to Pedro the proximity of a true 
culinary pleasure]37” (Esquivel 66, 1989).  Soon, Tita notices his hot gaze on her. Still a virgin, 
Tita has no explanation for the way his intangible touch has made her feel. What she does 
know, however, is the chemistry of cooking,  
“Tita supo en carne propia por qué el contacto con el fuego altera los elementos, por 
qué un pedazo de masa se convierte en tortillas, por qué un pecho sin haber pasado por 
el fuego del amor es un pecho inerte, una bola de masa sin ninguna utilidad. [Tita knew 
in her own flesh why contact with fire alters the elements, why a piece of dough 
 
36 Trans. by Carol and Thomas Christensen 
37 Trans. by Carol and Thomas Christensen 
71 
 
becomes tortillas, why a breast without having gone through the fire of love is an inert 
breast, a ball of dough without any use.]38” (Esquivel 67, 1989). 
Energy, warmth, touch– these are the things which propel a person or a ball of dough towards 
their full form. Each time she gains a new experience of intimacy, not only does she begin to 
understand herself better, but her cooking too.  
The last indication of a food-body connection is present in the fact that, in Como agua 
para chocolate, a character’s relationship with food can be used to know their heart. Open-
minded and loving, Tita and Nacha have a true knack for cooking and nourishing those around 
them. Ardent and repressed, Gertrudis and Pedro are finally able to awaken her sexuality 
through the consumption of food. Contrastly, Rosaura and Mama Elena struggle with food, 
not only as failed cooks, but as troubled eaters as well. The reader may find the root of the 
digestive problems which plague Rosaura or the death of Mama Elena due to paranoia of being 
poisoned through her meals is actually indicative of a lack of love in their lives. For example, 
late into the novel, Rosaura shows signs of a declining metabolism,  
“Desde hacía unas semanas tenía graves problemas digestivos, sufría de flato y mal 
aliento. Rosaura se sintió tan apenada por estos trastornos que inclusive tuvo que tomar 
la decisión de que Pedro y ella durmieran en recámaras separadas. [For a few weeks she 
had had serious digestive problems, suffering from flatus and bad breath. Rosaura was 
 
38 Trans. by Carol and Thomas Christensen 
72 
 
so embarrassed by these disorders that she even had to make the decision that she and 
Pedro would sleep in separate bedrooms.]39” (Esquivel 169, 1989).  
One could interpret this as rotten energy traveling through Tita’s food and into Rosaurua’s gut, 
but what Esquivel guides the reader to see is that where there are troubles of the heart, there 
too are troubles in mealtime.  
 It is important to understand Como agua para chocolate, especially through the context 
of the food-body connection, as an inherently feminist text. Despite taking place in the context 
of the kitchen and through the catalyst of food, Esquivel urges the reader to see cooking and 
eating as forms of liberation from the otherwise repressive conditions of 1895-1920s rural 
Mexico. In other words, the reader can consider that “Esquivel may place Tita in the kitchen, 
the stereotypical female domestic space, but the author redefines both Tita's culinary skills and 
this female domain” (Dobrian 60, 1996).  
Were it not for the magical realism woven into the very fabric of this text, perhaps the 
skills Tita sharpens in the kitchen would not be so empowering. But Esquivel makes sure that 
the feminist tone of the novel is maintained. The author creates a context in which cooking 
enables Tita to show Pedro her truest feelings of the intimate heart, eating allows Gertrudis to 
exit the repression in which she was raised and go live out the freedom she so seeks in life 
through sex and military profession, and causes Rosaura, the most committed of the three 
sisters to patriarchy, to reevaluate her worth as a wife as she struggles to perform in the 
 
39 Trans. by Carol and Thomas Christensen 
73 
 
kitchen. In other words, the functions of the kitchen serve as a mirror to which the three De 
La Garza girls can reflect upon their role within gender stereotypes of the time. In her 1996 
article, “Romancing the Cook: Parodic Consumption of Popular Romance Myths in "Como 
agua para chocolate"”, Susan Lucas Dobrian views the novel as a parody on classic patriarchal 
values, urging the reader to “read [it] not straight but slant” (56, 1996).  
 Dobrian is not alone in these interpretations. Katherine Louise Dell, in her 1997 
dissertation identifies the variety of feminist aspects of the novel. Dell opens her general 
argument with the idea that “En Como agua para chocolate la cocina es el espacio de la 
creatividad, la elección y el control de Tita, que hace que ella reformule la imagen tradicional 
de la mujer en el "espacio femenino” [In Como agua para chocolate, the kitchen is a space of 
the creativity, choice, and control of Tita, that makes it so that she reformulates the traditional 
image of the woman in the “feminine space”]” (Dell 68, 1997). The food-body connection 
established in this novel is inherently feminist, as it contributes to a comprehensive grasp of 
each woman’s understanding of self. Thus, the reader can also recognize levels of philautia or 
self-love present in Como agua para chocolate.  
4.3.2 Storge in the Kitchen  
 While it is true that many readers characterize the food-love relationship in Como agua 
para chocolate through its iconic scenes of aphrodisiac-induced eroticism, I would first like to 
examine another context in which food and love join to express their joint similar cultural 
value. This example is that of cooking as an act of familial love or storge. True, Como agua para 
74 
 
chocolate is a romance novel, however it also deals very tenderly with the complicated pains 
of family all throughout. Dobrian understands the discovery of the family unit taking place in 
the kitchen, writing “As Esquivel redefines the kitchen, she also revises the concept of family, 
providing a new image, not based on blood lines but on true emotional attachment” (Dobrian 
61, 1996). From this, the reader can see the kitchen both as the heart of action of this novel, as 
well as the heart of family. Afterall, it is here where family is found, made, and challenged 
most of all.  
Food, love, and storge is first illuminated through the unique relationship between Tita 
and Nacha, the family cook. Nacha occupies an important role in Tita’s life as she served as 
both a mother and instructor of the kitchen. She gave Tita a maternal force which was denied 
by her cold and abusive biological mother, as well as a passion for cooking (de Helfer 225, 
2003). Nacha passes away after tasting a swipe of frosting from Rosaura’s wedding cake 
accidentally infused with Tita's tears of great longing. Nacha passes in the night, overcome 
with sadness and loneliness. Once Tita becomes aware of her loss, her life becomes 
overwhelmed with darkness. Without Nacha to guide her, the challenges she faced in 
everyday life seemed altogether too much. But through the power of food, Tita brings Nacha 
back into her life, if only for a fleeting moment, through the flavors of her favorite recipes. In 
the care of John and his house cook, Chencha, Tita is coaxed back to health, first with tea, and 
eventually with a traditional Mexican caldo [soup]. The narrator recounts that: 
“cuando dio el primer sorbo Nacha llegó a su lado y le acarició la cabeza mientras comía, 
como lo hacía cuando de niña ella enfermaba y la besó repetidamente en la frente. Ahí 
75 
 
estaban, junto a Nacha, los juegos de su infancia en la cocina, las salidas al mercado, las 
tortillas recién cocidas, los huesitos de chabacano de colores, las tortas de navidad, su 
casa, el olor a leche hervida, a pan de natas, a champurrado, a comino, a ajo, y cebolla. 
[When she took the first sip, Nacha came to her side and stroked her head as she ate, 
as she did when she was sick as a child, and kissed her repeatedly on the forehead. 
There they were, next to Nacha, the games of his childhood in the kitchen, the trips to 
the market, the freshly cooked tortillas, the colored apricot bones, the Christmas cakes, 
his house, the smell of boiled milk, cream bread, champurrado, cumin, garlic, 
onions.]40” (Esquivel 124, 1989). 
Here, Nacha is preserved through food, evoking the memory and melancholy of a childhood 
into adulthood. Chencha, in turn, represents an indigenous force of homemaking, in which 
Tita finds the comfort of her passed Nacha.  
Another such relationship which allows for food, love, and storge is the one which 
flourishes between Tita and her niece Esperanza. As an infant, Esperanza had difficulty feeding 
as her mother, Rosaura, was unable to produce adequate breast milk. Just as Nacha did for Tita 
a generation prior, Tita took on the responsibility to nourish the child using the magic of 
cooking. In wake of this, Esperanza established a connection to Tita as a means of safety and 
comfort, and just like her aunt, locked into a lifelong fondness of the kitchen (de Helfer 222, 
2003). This symbol of family and care does something for both Tita and the baby. Without 
 
40 Trans. by Carol and Thomas Christensen 
76 
 
Tita, Esperanza would struggle tremendously to grow and survive in the conditions of her 
family. Meanwhile, without Esperanza, “al poder nutrir al hijo de Rosaura, Tita expresa el 
deseo maternal que le ha sido negado por la tradición familiar. A través de su comida, Tita da 
voz a lo prohibido: a su cuerpo, a su alma, a su sensualidad, a sus deseos y a sus pasiones. [In 
being able to nurture Rosaura’s son, Tita expresses the maternal desire that has been denied to 
her by family tradition. Through her food, Tita gives voice to the forbidden: Her body, her 
soul, her sensuality, her desires and her passions]” (Dell 45, 1997). Here, once again food serves 
as the vehicle rather than the confinement for Tita’s feminine liberation.  
And of course, the care Tita provides for Esperanza goes much further than finding 
ways to nourish her. Often looking over her while tending to needs of the home, Esquivel 
describes a daily routine in which, 
“[Esperanza] lloraba muchísimo en cuanto sentía que se alejaba del calor de la estufa, al 
grado que lo que Tita tenía que hacer era llevarse a la recámara el guisado que estuviera 
cocinando, para así lograr engañar a la niña, que al oler y sentir de cerca el calor de la 
olla en la que Tita cocinaba conciliaba el sueño. [She cried a lot as soon as she felt that 
she was moving away from the heat of the stove, to the point that what Tita had to do 
was take the stew she was cooking to the bedroom, in order to deceive the girl, who 
when she smelled and felt the heat of the pot in which Tita cooked, she fell asleep.]41” 
(148, 1989). 
 
41 Trans. by Carol and Thomas Christensen 
77 
 
This scene exhibits not only storge, but also agape or selfless love, a feeling which continues 
into the whole of their relationship. As Esperanza grows, Tita is witness to all of her major 
milestones and receives them with as much excitement and pride as if she were her own. On 
one such milestone, Tita sat Esperanza on her lap for a serving of beans and to her surprise, 
“qué alegría sintió el día en que escuchó el sonido de la cuchara al chocar con la punta del 
primer diente de Esperanza. [what joy she felt the day she heard the sound of the spoon hitting 
the tip of Esperanza's first tooth.]42” (Esquivel 217, 1989).  
 Memory seems to be the greatest tell of storge and agape, and became more clear than 
ever when Gertrudis, a now army general, returns to the ranch to visit her sisters. She kindly 
requests some childhood treats from Tita, looking most forward to hot chocolate and fritters. 
She takes one sip of the chocolate and exhales very poetically, “la vida sería mucho más 
agradable si uno pudiera llevarse a donde quiera que fuera los sabores y olores de la casa 
materna. [Life would be much more pleasant if one could take the tastes and smells of one's 
mother's house with one with one's wherever one went.]43” (Esquivel 179, 1989). In this 
moment, food reaffirms the love that bonds the sisters, especially in a time after Mama Elena’s 
death. Without the steering of such a brass matriarch, the three women find themselves again 
in the recipes of their past, and in turn, find peace, warmth, and solace.  
 
42 Trans. by Carol and Thomas Christensen 
43 Trans. by Carol and Thomas Christensen 
78 
 
4.3.3 Eros and the Aphrodisiac   
Now, to indulge in the preeminent motif of food and love in Como agua para chocolate: 
the aphrodisiac. The use of aphrodisiacs in literature is no new invention. As a matter of fact, 
aphrodisiacs have left their mark on stories since Homer’s Odyssey (Castillo Cerdá 440). The 
product of this rich history of a food-love connection in literature is that it gives the story of 
Como agua para chocolate an antiquity which matches well with its intended timeline. Gala 
del Castillo Cerdá, describes in her chapter the relevance of including aphrodisiacs in a love 
story. Here, she writes, “En [Como agua para chocolate] abunda lo erótico y lo culinario a la 
par que lo literario, tres elementos que desde tiempos inmemoriales se vienen considerando 
indisociables [In [Like Water for Chocolate], the erotic and the culinary abound as well as the 
literary, three elements that have been considered inseparable since time immemorial]” 
(Castillo Cerdá 439, 2015). Katherine Hernández Tusarma, a Colombian scholar studied the 
use of aphrodisiacs in Como agua para chocolate in her 2015 dissertation in which she defined 
the role of these culinary elements: 
“El cuerpo y la comida erotizada como canal comunicativo, la pasión y deseos 
reprimidos como mensajes, los personajes como interlocutores de sus sentidos y 
percepciones. Es claro el proceso comunicativo de esta estructura implícita en el ritual 
representado en la mesa [The body and eroticized food as a communicative channel, 
passion and repressed desires as messages, the characters as interlocutors of their senses 
and perceptions. The communicative process of this structure implicit in the ritual 
represented at the table is clear]” (Hernández Tusarma 56, 2015).  
79 
 
The aphrodisiac is a key symbol in this novel, because it forms the bridge between food and 
love both literally and figuratively.  
There are so many aphrodisiacs in this literary masterpiece which cause panic and 
pleasure, like the mole de guajolote y almendra con ajonjolí or the chorizo norteño. The mole, 
for example, enacts a sexual panic amongst wedding guests in the final scenes as they leave in 
an ardent chaos. The chorizo norteño, too, offers so much to the reader in terms of innuendo 
of Tita’s desire. Afterall, she prepares this dish in the wake of an erotic encounter with Pedro. 
Del Castillo Cerdá writes that, while this scene is not aphrodisiacal in flavor, it brings up many 
of the physical symbols relating food and sex, “Así, encerrada en su cocina, acaricia el chorizo 
que tiene entre sus manos, claro indicador fálico, mientras recuerda un ardiente encuentro 
sexual con su amado [Thus, locked in her kitchen, she caresses the chorizo she holds in her 
hands, a clear phallic indicator, while remembering a fiery sexual encounter with her 
beloved]” (Castillo Cerdá 443).  
While each instance in which food and love intertwine in this novel are relevant and 
necessary to a holistic understanding of Esquivel’s tactics, there is only one which stands out 
for its legendary artistic freedom. Chapter 3 gives the recipe for Codornices en pétalos de rosa 
[March – Quails in Rose Petal Sauce]-- one of the major catalysts for the wilderness of interest 
which followed the international publication of Como agua para chocolate. This passage 
demonstrates with great fanfare Hernández Tusarma’s use of the aphrodisiac as a vehicle 
through which “el cuerpo, los sentidos y la comida se conjugan en el ritual representado en la 
80 
 
mesa [the body, the sense, and food coming together in the ritual represented at the table]” 
(Hernández Tusarma 56, 2015).  
It is March, Rosaura and Pedro are married, Nacha has passed, and Tita is in the lowest 
state imaginable. However, her world turns right-side-up again when Pedro gives her a large 
bouquet of red roses to celebrate one year as la cocinera del rancho [the Ranch cook]. The gift, 
however, is quickly noticed by a very pregnant Rosaura and leaves her with a sting of betrayal. 
Mama Elena, as always, immediately swoops in to relieve her second daughter’s feelings and 
commands Tita to do away with the bouquet. Devastated to see such a beautiful thing go to 
waste, Tita contemplates in little time what she could use the flowers for so as not to let them 
die in vain. In a final goodbye, she grasps the roses close to her chest, accidentally pricking her 
skin and drawing gentle drops of blood. She takes to the coop and it is time to make quails in 
rose petal sauce.  
Why this dish? As Isabel Allende outlines in Afrodita 1996, there are an army of foods 
recognized for their aphrodisiacal powers. Predictably, each element of this dish is identified 
as aphrodisiacs on their own. Once combined, Esquivel shows her readers the magical effects 
they possess. Del Castillo Cerdá walks us through the individual meaning of each ingredient 
with the care and patience required in order to fully grasp the genius of Esquivel. She describes 
how Tita “cocina un plato que mezcla tres de los alimentos más afrodisíacos según Isabel 
Allende: las aves, las rosas y la sangre, y además le añade miel y anís [cooks a dish that mixes 
three of the most aphrodisiac foods according to Isabel Allende: birds, roses and blood, and 
81 
 
also adds honey and anise]”, combining two classic Latin American texts– that of Allende and 
Esquivel. Del Castillo Cerdá goes on to explain,  
“Las aves son afrodisíacas por su carne morena y su sabor intenso; las rosas tienen un 
olor que despierta todos los sentidos, y la sangre es el elemento estrella de todos los 
filtros de amor… La sangre tiene una carga metafórica visual muy afrodisíaca según 
autores como Eulàlia Purtí, y para Michelet, beber sangre uno del otro crea una 
comunión que mezcla las almas. La miel, por su parte, es usada en innumerables filtros 
de amor por su enorme carga erótica… [Birds are aphrodisiacs because of their brown 
flesh and intense flavor; Roses have a smell that awakens all the senses, and blood is the 
star element of all love filters…Blood has a very aphrodisiac visual metaphorical charge 
according to authors such as Eulàlia Purtí, and for Michelet, drinking blood from each 
other creates a communion that mixes souls. Honey, on the other hand, is used in 
countless love filters due to its enormous erotic charge…]” (del Castillo Cerdá 442).  
With this in mind, the intense events which follow the consumption of the codornices en 
pétalos de rosa come as little surprise.  
It’s a massive lunch, fit for a village. Tita prepares food for the whole family, however, 
she does not prepare them for what this food will cause them to feel. The De La Garza’s gather 
at the table, accompanied by Pedro, and Tita serves them each a healthy portion of her love-
induced meal. Unbeknownst to them, “La fusión de la sangre de Tita con los pétalos de las rosas 
que Pedro le había regalado resultó ser de lo más explosiva. [The fusion of Tita's blood with 
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the rose petals Pedro had given her turned out to be most explosive.]44” (Esquivel 49, 1989). 
When the group first takes to the table, the energy in the room is tense after the morning’s 
drama. After a few bites of lunch, however, the climate in the dining area makes a sudden 
shift. Immediately and without much thought for repercussion, Pedro exclaims “¡Este es un 
placer de los dioses! [This is a pleasure of the gods!]” after his first taste of the love-induced 
sauce (Esquivel 50, 1989).   
The aphrodisiac begins and everyone at the table begins to feel the effects pulsing 
throughout their unconsenting bodies. As the process continues Pedro begins to struggle under 
the influence of the roses,  
“Tal parecía que en un extraño fenómeno de alquimia su ser se había disuelto en la 
salida de las rosas, en el cuerpo de las codornices, en el vino y en cada uno de los olores 
de la comida. De esta manera penetraba en el cuerpo de Pedro, voluptuosa, aromática, 
calurosa, completamente sensual. [It seemed that in a strange phenomenon of alchemy 
his being had dissolved in the rising of roses, in the bodies of quails, in wine, and in 
every smell of food. In this way she penetrated Pedro's body, voluptuous, aromatic, 
warm, completely sensual.]45” (Esquivel 51, 1989).  
For Rosaura, who lacks love in her heart, the quail in rose petal sauce hits her stomach with 
great cruelty and leaves her with “naúseas y mareos, no pudo comer más que tres bocados 
 
44 Trans. by Carol and Thomas Christensen 
45 Trans. by Carol and Thomas Christensen 
83 
 
[nausea and motion sickness, she couldn't eat more than three bites]46” (Esquivel 50, 1989). On 
the other side of the table, however, her elder sister was experiencing something quite the 
opposite.  
Gertrudis, as sexually daring as repressed, unsurprisingly takes well to lunch. It is a new 
experience for her, which first lands her a massive deal of discomfort at the table, which she 
eventually satiates outside. As she moves through her entrée, the narrator describes, “Parecía 
que el alimento que estaba ingiriendo produce en ella un efecto afrodisíaco pues empezó a 
sentir que un intenso calor le invadía las piernas… Empezó a sudar… [It seemed that the food 
she was eating produced an aphrodisiac effect on her as she began to feel an intense heat invade 
her legs… She began to sweat…]47” (Esquivel 50, 1989). Without realizing, the sexual energy 
pulsating through Gertrudis’ body was a product of that which was felt so deeply between Tita 
and Pedro The narrator describes this phenomenon with Tita as the emitter, Pedro the 
receptor, and Gertrudis the synthesizer of such raw eroticism.  
Completely inebriated with passion, Gertrudis begins to struggle under the influence 
of Tita and Pedro’s sexual desire, “... realmente se sentía indispuesta, sudaba copiosamente por 
todo el cuerpo [...she really felt indisposed, she sweat copiously throughout her entire body]48” 
(Esquivel 52, 1989). Truly suffering in such conditions, she decides she needs a cold shower to 
relieve herself.  
 
46 Trans. by Carol and Thomas Christensen 
47 Trans. by Carol and Thomas Christensen 
48 Trans. by Carol and Thomas Christensen 
84 
 
Rushing to the outdoor shower, Gertrudis steams with heat, emitting the rich scent of 
rose. Desperate, she rushes to fill the drop tank with clean water for her washing, but runs out 
of time. The sheer heat pumping off of her skin lights the wooden stall ablaze and she escapes 
her burning shower in massive panic. Her pheromones traveled far beyond the reach of the 
family ranch and were curiously intercepted by a Villista soldier towns away. Though he did 
not know Gertrudis or her location, “lo guiaba el olor del cuerpo… Llego justo a tiempo para 
descubrirla corriendo en medio del campo [he was guided by the smell of her body… He 
arrived just in time to discover her running in the middle of the field]49” (Esquivel 54, 1989). 
In a wave of natural movement, the Villista grabs a completely naked Gertrudis, lifts her onto 
the horseback, and they ride off into the horizon making love.  
4.5 Conclusion 
This project would not exist had it not been for the realization which came to me after 
first reading Como agua para chocolate. The connection between food and love that Laura 
Esquivel creates and maintains throughout the novel is distinctly Latin American by culture 
and tradition. Como agua para chocolate is a creative novel, mixing elements of the usual 
cookbook with the unusual romance novel, creating something shocking and beautiful in that 
genre exchange. Esquivel devotes pages of pure artistry to a Mexico and an indigeneity which, 
in her time, were often left blank. Through Tita, Esquivel provides the reader with “los secretos 
 
49 Trans. by Carol and Thomas Christensen 
85 
 
de la vida y del amor a través de la cocina. [the secrets of life and love through cooking.]50” 
(Esquivel 240, 1989), underscoring the importance of these two independent objects in Latin 
American society. Como agua para chocolate is driven by the shared primordial hunger held 
between all creatures on this Earth to eat and reproduce. Beyond this basic understanding, 
however, is an awareness held by writers like Esquivel, García Márquez, Allende, Belli, and 
Neruda that a wonderful work of art takes place at the crux of food and love. They have so 
much in common. They say so much about one another. Life without the two would end 
shortly, and while it was lived, would be no pleasure and all pain.  
Food and love exist on many levels in Como agua para chocolate. The primary example 
which Esquivel creates is the metaphor of a food-body empathy or connection. This is followed 
by Tita’s cooking as an act of love, for the effects of eros (romantic love), agape (selfless love), 
storge (familial love), and philautia (self-love). Finally, the art of the aphrodisiac is mastered 
by Esquivel to move eroticism beyond the simple literal plain. By the end of the novel, the 
reader is encouraged to recognize food and love as something less independent from one 
another and rather indicative of each other. 
  
 
50 Trans. by Carol and Thomas Christensen 
86 
 
Conclusion   
In his 2006 culturally study, Pasión a fuego lento: Erotismo en la cocina mexicana 
[Slow-Burning Passion: Eroticism in Mexican Cuisine], José N. Iturriaga underlines the 
basic connection between food and love, “Appetitos terrenales ambos, la comida 
gaurantiza la supervivencia del individuo, y el sexo gaurantiza la supervivencia de la 
especie [In both earthly terms, food guarantees the survival of the individual, and sex 
guarantees the survival of the species]” (Iturriaga 17, 2006). The primordial need to 
survive as both a person and a kind move people to eat and reproduce with a certain 
tenacious quality. Because they are so essential (food and sex), human beings develop 
very curious relationships with them. Too little of either amounts to a life of suffering, 
indicating dangerous levels of poverty and depravity. Too much of either risks the failure 
of being appropriately savored.  
Using food as a metaphoric tool has been employed in Spanish-language literature 
since colonial Spain. This dynamic is evident in the works of Baltasar Del Alcázar, and 
lives on today in modern poetry and novels of the Americas, such as the writing of Natalia 
Toledo. As the language expanded across hemispheres, so too did this valuable 
connection. The 20th century, however, is the most essential era for some of the most 
jarring and iconic iterations of the food-love connection in Latin America.  
Between 1900 and 1999, Latin American authors including Gioconda Belli, Pablo 
Neruda, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Laura Esquivel, Isabel Allende, and so forth reinvented 
the means by which these two independent fixtures of life could be tied together. For the 
poets, forging this bond means compelling their art forward through imaginative 
87 
 
expression. For the novelists, food is a mechanism of love articulating themes of 
selflessness, eroticism, and genuine love.  
Chapter 1 of this investigation looks closely at the poetic artistry of Gioconda Belli. 
In her 1991 poetry collection, El ojo de la mujer, Belli published “Amor de frutas,” an open-
form text in which she objectifies the sex of her male lover through various fruits available 
in her home, Nicaragua. She describes their intercourse through the physicality of these 
fruits– the shapes, the flavors, the wetness of it all– making one of food and love. Chapter 
2 is a deep dive into the romantic mind of Nobel Prize Laureate, Pablo Neruda. The 
Chilean poet offers a massive body of food-related work, but two stand out as exemplary 
for the unique way in which they combine aspects of food and love to provide a greater 
message. In his 1954 “Oda a la ciruela,” Neruda describes the process of eating a plum 
as something inherently sexual. He urges the reader to see that the oral motions which 
are required in order to fully enjoy this sweet fruit are equivalent to those necessary in the 
bedroom. He combines the reminiscence of a boyhood spent in the South of Chile, 
gathering plums and devouring them under the shade of its carrier tree. The naive 
freedom he felt in those times is something he can always return to with each bite of the 
plum, no matter how far he strays from his excited adolescence. The second Neruda work 
is “Soneto XI,” an early poem from his romantic masterpiece, Cien sonetos de amor 
(1959). Unique from the first two selected poems, “Soneto XI” draws connections between 
hunger for food and desire for love and pleasure as two basic animal needs. In this 
sonnet, Neruda becomes a wolf, prowling the Chilean countryside in search of his lover. 
He explains with deep affection that his hunger is not something that can be satiated with 
bread, but rather the consumption of his muse. In this poem, Neruda reminds us that, at 
88 
 
times, it is not enough to kiss or have sex with our significant other. At times, the deepest 
need is to consume them for all that they are.  
As the study moves into the two novels, Chapter 3 looks at the presence of food 
and love in Gabriel García Márquez’s magnum opus, Cien años de soledad. In these 422 
pages, this theme is recurrent, standing out in unique and provocative ways. A new form 
of the relationship between food and love is visible in the romantic and consumptive habits 
of characters like Rebeca Buendia and Aureliano Segundo, who engage in binge-eating 
in order to manage with their obsessive love or mania. Rebeca, an orphaned mystery 
who arrives at the Buendia door as a young girl, copes with her unrequited feelings for 
Pietro Crispi by forcing mouthfuls of dirt down her throat. She does so as a form of self-
harm, secretly hoping it will curb her longing for his affection. Aureliano Segundo also 
engages in binge-eating as a means of finding satisfaction. He is a characteristic glutton, 
seeking refuge in the pleasure of food, sex, and money all throughout his life. His habits 
for decadence culminate in a shameless and life-threatening eating competition between 
the greatest eaters in the country. In the final challenge, he is faced by a competitor known 
as La Elefanta whom he crudely sexualizes before losing to her strategic binging.  
Finally, Chapter 4 centers on the raison d'être of this investigation, Laura 
Esquivel's 1989, Como agua para chocolate. This novel in its entirety is an homage to 
the inherent bond between food and love in Latin American society and culture. While 
there are so many instances of metaphor and innuendo that occur in this context, the 
novel is best understood through three main avenues of food and love: food-body 
metaphors, storge as seen in the kitchen, and eros channeled through the aphrodisiac. 
Since infancy, Tita learns the meaning of family, love, and care in the confines of the 
89 
 
kitchen with the ranch cook, Nacha. As her craft is refined, she finds empowerment in the 
art of cooking to express her emotions, sexuality, and identity through each and every 
dish.  
These works are reflective of the context in which they were created. The 
authorship, national-origin, ingredients, and language used all indicate the presence and 
persistence of food and love in the Latin American cultural diaspora. While this 
investigation takes place along the Latin American plain, the metaphors and values which 
are born from food and love can be seen in an even wider realm of cultures and timelines. 
Possible areas of expansion for this project/research would include a comparative study 
of the existence of the food-love connection in the literary works of other regions of the 
world under different languages.  
In the tapestry of life, food and love are threads that intricately weave together the 
most beautiful moments. Whether it's the warmth of a home-cooked meal shared with 
loved ones, the hunger and desire you feel for another, or the similarities you notice 
between the physicality of eating and intercourse, these experiences nourish not only our 
bodies but also our souls. Seeking out these precious moments of connection will 
inevitably lead to a deeper appreciation of the tastes and emotions they evoke. This, in 
turn, allows individuals to cherish the bond between food and love, enriching our lives in 
ways most basic and profound. 
 
 
 
 
90 
 
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