One of the things I remember most about my grandma is that she was a wonderful cook. There always seemed to be at least one large pot simmering away on Grandma’s stove, you didn’t have to see it to know that it was there, the smell wafted throughout the little house and greeted you like a warm hug as soon as you walked through the door. Little did I know at the time, my grandma’s large pots of home cooked goodness were “guisados”. No matter our ancestry, or where we come from, we all cook guisados. Guisados aren’t any one…
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