When I think about carnitas, I don’t just think about food. I think about my dad. Carnitas are a traditional Mexican dish made from pork that is slowly cooked and fried until tender and flavorful. They’re usually shredded and served in tacos, but the process of making them is long and very intentional.
In our family, carnitas are never rushed. When my dad makes carnitas, he usually wakes up around five in the morning to start the process. Sometimes it even begins the night before. If he butchers the pig the evening before, he hangs the meat so it can dry overnight. The next day, he prepares the large pot, heats the manteca (pork fat), and begins cutting the meat into pieces before placing it into the pot to cook.
From start to finish, the process can take four to five hours. It’s slow cooking, but it’s worth every minute. This tradition didn’t start with my dad. It was passed down to him by his father, my grandfather. I never had the chance to meet my grandfather, but in a way, I feel connected to him through this tradition. The knowledge he passed to my dad has continued through our family.
My dad taught all of us, my brothers, my sister, and me, how the process works. We’ve all been part of it in one way or another. From learning how to cut the meat to understanding the different parts of the pig, it became something we experienced together as a family.
It might sound intense to some people. There’s butchering involved, scraping the skin, preparing the meat from the beginning. But when you grow up around it, it becomes fascinating. I remember my little brother being around nine years old and loving to help my dad with the process. Moments like that stay with you.
While the carnitas cook, time slows down. Family gathers around. We talk, laugh, and spend time together. In the summer, we might share a few beers outside. In the fall, we might sit near a bonfire while we wait. It becomes more than cooking.
Once the carnitas are ready, the real celebration begins. Tortillas are warmed, pico de gallo is made, and tacos start appearing one by one. Simple food, but full of meaning.
My parents now run a taco truck, and the carnitas they sell come from the same tradition my dad learned from his father. People love them because they know they’re authentic and homemade, not something that came from a store. They come from generations of knowledge, patience, and love.
My dad has even been hired to cook large batches of carnitas for quinceañeras, weddings, and big family parties. I may be biased because he’s my dad, but I truly believe they are some of the best. Carnitas take time, but that time is never wasted. It’s filled with stories, laughter, and moments spent together.
And when you finally sit down and eat those tacos, you’re not just tasting food. You’re tasting memory.