Chasing Rosa’s Flavor: A Carne Asada Story

They say it takes a village to raise a child. If that’s true, Rosa was one of the cornerstones of mine.

Growing up, I spent most of my time running around my neighborhood with her four kids. Her home was always spotless—like “you could literally eat off the floor” clean—and the kind of place that smelled like comfort and tradition. Rosa was a loving wife and mother, but somehow she still had room in her heart for one more. And that “one more” was sometimes me.

One day, mid-play and covered in childhood chaos, I was invited to stay for dinner. I had no idea I was about to meet the meal that would leave a permanent mark on my soul: carne asada.

I didn’t just eat. I devoured. One big steak… then another. And I would’ve gone for a third if my childhood sense of manners hadn’t kicked in.  Rosa just smiled, the way mothers do when they know they’ve fed you something special. 

Since then, I’ve tasted carne asada from all over—family barbecues, restaurants, you name it—but nothing ever quite matched Rosa’s. It wasn’t just the flavor—it was her. Her love, her presence, her effortless way of making you feel like you belonged.

Sadly, Rosa passed before I ever had the chance to ask for her recipe. I’ve spent years trying to recreate that taste, chasing her flavor with every batch. And while nothing will ever compare to hers, this recipe I’m sharing today is my tribute to the woman who made me feel like family with nothing more than a plate of food and a warm smile.

So here it is—my take on carne asada. Is it exactly like Rosa’s? No. But it’s damn good. And it’s made with just as much love.

Rest in peace, Rosa. This one’s for you!

Click here for recipe