A Long Piece of Chorizo (An End-of-year reflection on Purpose & the Emerging future)
Note: In Spanish, we have a very casual expression when something is really long: “¡Qué pedazo de chorizo!”
I know — it might sound a bit cringe (especially if you’re vegan). But don’t worry… this chorizo can easily be a calabizo.
Well… the end of the year is already here, with all the meanings that come with it.
I’m back in Tenerife visiting family and friends after almost a year away, and yes — that familiar mix shows up: nostalgia, the feeling that I could have done things better with a hint of what the hell have I done?… and, at the same time, the unknown by the pull of the emerging future. Hello, 2026!
When I sat down to write this newsletter, I realized it could go in at least three different directions:
Sharing everything I’ve done this year.
Sharing ideas about what to give as Christmas presents.
Or talking about what I’m going to focus on now, guided by a prompt I wrote exactly one year ago for this month: What makes someone feel confident, seen, and ready to own their work?
Lately, I’ve been crossing paths with one word again and again — and it feels like the answer to that question, and the perfect way to close this cycle:
PURPOSE.
I think I’ve already shared where everything began for me, but it feels important to repeat it here.
I didn’t arrive in the gastronomic world because of gastronomy itself. I arrived out of necessity.
Twelve years ago, I didn’t speak English at all. I was vegan, and I couldn’t find work in my previous field: Education and Cultural Management. The only door that opened for me was a kitchen door.
I started from the bottom, in a raw food restaurant, without even knowing what reishi, chaga, or cordyceps were — long before these ingredients became part of mainstream conversations.
(Fun fact: back then, I invented a very silly choreography to remember them. I lifted my arms high to remember that cordyceps gives you energy. I hugged myself to remember that chaga supports the immune system. And then I dropped my arms down to release stress, to remember one of Reishi's key benefits. It sounds ridiculous now, but traveling back to that moment — twelve years ago — makes me wonder: where were you then, and what did you know at that time?)
Maybe because I started this way, my work today isn’t just about cooking.
It’s about building bridges, activating ideas, and creating processes and structures.
During those first two years, I discovered that I was part of a very small movement. I was surrounded by people who wanted to do things differently. People who wanted to change the world, create spaces for healing, and embrace another way of eating and consuming — honestly, consciously, with intention.
There was a real purpose behind it.
Social media was just beginning back then, still innocent, and that message wasn’t diluted the way it often is today. Some people could articulate that purpose clearly; others couldn’t. But they embodied it. They were living references.
When I look now at my industry — or whatever we want to call it — especially here in Spain, I constantly hear expressions like “healthy cooking,” “healthy restaurants,” or lately “food as medicine.”
And honestly? I hate it. Deeply.
(I can say that here — this feels like a safe space.)
Who is right? Ayurveda? Traditional Chinese Medicine? The Blue Zones? The Mediterranean diet? Living cuisine? Paleo? Vegan? Vegetarian? Whole Foods? Alkaline?
And just to be clear: all these approaches are very different from each other. I’m not comparing them, and I’m definitely not saying that one is better than the others. I’m not here to validate or invalidate any of them. What I want to point out is something else: we have so much information today that it’s incredibly difficult to know what really works — and, most importantly, what works for you.
I respect the benefits of all of them. Truly.
But here is the twist, there is one thing you know that it will work for you 100%, not doubts:
What if we removed the word “healthy” and replaced it with PURPOSE?.
What if we talked about Cooking with Purpose?
Opening restaurants — or creating a course, giving birth to a new product, or designing a service — driven by a clear purpose?
Recently, I learned that there are two main ways of learning leadership — and I think this applies beautifully here as well.
We can learn by looking back at the past (which is what we usually do, and which can be useful as a starting point), or we can learn from emerging futures.
What is an “emerging future”?
The future is not something far away.
It’s something already here, right in front of us — a possibility looking back at us now.
We’re constantly presented with dystopian futures that others design for us — futures I personally don’t want to live in.
Mmm, so maybe the invitation is this:
Look to the past only to gain momentum…
then stop, and try to sense what is emerging right now.
Collectively, we’ve been creating many things that nobody actually wants.
So how do we learn from emerging future possibilities? Here I’m using Otto Scharmer’s words, not mine. With an:
Open Mind → Cultivating Curiosity
Open Heart → Cultivating Compassion
Open Will → Cultivating Courage
These three words are worth tattooing in your mind: Curiosity. Compassion. Courage.
With them, we can build an Architecture of Connection, instead of continuing to reinforce an Architecture of Separation.
We talk a lot today about regenerative agriculture and ecosystems — about improving soil health, restoring balance, and nurturing life. So why not apply the same logic to what we create?
To our work.
To our kitchens.
To our projects.
To our purpose.
Use purpose as a force for good.
We’re living in a world where many of our collective structures are failing. Disruptions happen daily, and we keep trying to solve new problems with old tools, old institutions, and old systems. If you’re planning to cultivate new skills for the coming year — and the years after — focus on these instead. You don’t need to go back to school or pay for them (Otto words here again): Becoming aware, Listening, Dialogue, Presencing, Co-imagining and Co-creating.
Moving from an “egosystem” to an “ecosystem”.
And what does all this have to do with food?
Or with cooking?
Or with what we do?
A lot.
Remember my last newsletter: we spend so much time focusing on what we do and how we do it, and so little time on why we do it — on our inner fountain. And everything starts there.
I woke up today from a horrible nightmare. I was teaching… and little by little, I lost my voice. It’s a dream I’ve had many times before. (Please don’t message me with interpretations — I already made the mistake of Googling it as soon as I woke up. I know where it comes from.)
Recently, I attended a conference on conscious capitalism. During a break, I had a casual conversation with the person sitting next to me. I won’t share the whole story, but one moment stayed with me — deeply.
She told me about another conference she had attended. The speaker was using a long presentation full of images to guide his talk. Sitting next to her was a Buddhist monk. At one point, the monk turned to her and asked:
“Do you know why he needs all those images and slides?”
She said no.
And he replied:
“Because what he’s explaining is not fully integrated in him yet. He still needs external support to hold it.”
O.M.G. In Spanish, this sounds even more intense.
That sentence has been echoing in my head ever since.
It made me reflect on my own work — on my tools, my courses, my teaching materials. How many hours I spend preparing them. How many supports I create around what I want to communicate.
And I realized something important: sometimes we need those supports because what we’re sharing is still integrating within us.
And that’s okay.
If you feel the same — if you need structures, tools, frameworks, or external supports — it doesn’t mean you’re failing. It means you’re in a process.
That’s why I create tools.
And that’s why I also ask for support.
I’m beginning to understand my own needs more clearly now. And I’m confident that I’m moving toward deeper integration — maybe not today, but in an emerging future.
Let’s Connect
This time, I’m not going to ask you to reply. Instead, I’ll leave you with one question:
If tomorrow you had to create a gastronomic project (a dish, a product, or an experience) and you could start with only one question, what would it be?
Purpose, cooking, and why this had to be long.
(Holding the Three Spaces)
A Note from Me
This is also why, in this last newsletter of the year, I want to share one more tool with you.
No — it’s not directly related to food again.
But it is deeply connected to how we cultivate our inner fountain.
I invest a lot of money and time learning “random” things — things that nourish my inner soil. Because that soil is where clarity grows. Where purpose settles. Where how and what eventually make sense.
Today, cooking is the vehicle I use to communicate.
But the source comes from somewhere deeper.
So instead of buying yet another product to stop my hair from falling out (I currently look like a very wet rat with two hairs — true story), I’d rather invest in nourishing my real self.
And I want to share this tool with you —
so you can cultivate what’s coming in 2026.
I just came back from that conference — and it started with a simple but essential question.
If right now you’re trying to create something new…
starting a project, changing direction, facing a new job or phase…
you will probably experience moments of doubt, fear, disruption, and challenge. I know I do.
So the question was:
What is the most important ingredient to bring something new into reality?
The answer wasn’t strategy.
It wasn’t funding.
It wasn’t visibility.
It was you — and how do you support your own capacity to show up as your best self?
In Otto Scharmer’s words — and now, in my own way — here’s a very simple exercise:
⚠️Wait, don't read any further. Don't click. Just grab a pen and paper. Right now. ⚠️
Another Venn Diagram where you recharge your batteries so you can present yourself (in 2026) in your best version.
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