For Gus Toribio, 43, and Yissel Acevedo, 42, their South Wilkes-Barre kitchen is not just a place for cooking; it’s where they recreate a cherished part of their Dominican heritage — mangu, the national breakfast of the Dominican Republic.
A Slice of the Dominican Republic
Though far from the Dominican Republic, where they grew up, Toribio and Acevedo have found a way to bring the flavors of their homeland into their American lives. “It’s been on our dinner table since the early 1900s but I believe [it could be] even earlier than that,” says Toribio, referring to mangu, a dish made from boiled and mashed plantains.
Mangu is more than just food — it’s tradition, culture, and memory all mashed into one. The couple, who met in high school in New Jersey after immigrating to the U.S., often make the hearty breakfast dish on weekends and holidays to savor the flavors of home.
What is Mangu?
Mangu, the centerpiece of Dominican breakfast, is made by mashing boiled plantains. While it’s served alongside fried eggs, salami, sausage, and cheese, it’s the mangu that steals the spotlight. Toribio compares it to mashed potatoes in an American Thanksgiving meal: “The mangu will become basically like your mashed potato.”
In the Dominican Republic, mangu is a daily staple, with mothers and grandmothers waking as early as 5 a.m. to prepare the breakfast spread. In their American home, Toribio and Acevedo try to maintain the tradition, though it’s now reserved for weekends and special occasions due to their busy schedules.
A Tradition Passed Down
Cooking mangu is a family tradition for both Toribio and Acevedo, passed down through generations. However, they’ve had to adapt it to fit their American lifestyle. “A lot of the tradition changes because of the routine,” says Toribio. In the Dominican Republic, children are often involved in the process, whether gathering eggs or peeling plantains, a routine Toribio fondly remembers despite initially disliking it as a child.
Now, Toribio finds himself longing for the simplicity of those childhood chores, even visiting local farms like Hillside Farms to reminisce about feeding chickens and cows.
The Joy of Making Mangu Together
For Toribio and Acevedo, preparing mangu is a labor of love and teamwork. Early mornings on holidays and weekends see them bustling around the kitchen, filling the house with the mouthwatering aromas of a Dominican breakfast. The couple moves in harmony, often anticipating each other’s next move. Latin music plays in the background as they cook, and Acevedo hums along, handing ingredients to Toribio before he even asks.
“Even though you’re sleepy, you still sort of do this stuff automatically,” Toribio says, describing the early morning routine. Despite their familiarity with the dish, every time they make mangu, it feels like a special event.
Preserving Family Traditions
For Acevedo, learning to cook Dominican food was a journey she started after meeting Toribio, who taught her the basics. Now, she expertly navigates the kitchen, smashing plantains like a pro and preparing the meal without hesitation. “I taught Acevedo how to cook some of this stuff,” says Toribio proudly.
Their three children love the meal, though they aren’t as eager to learn the recipe. As Toribio and Acevedo laughed while preparing a large pot of mangu, they were asked if there would be leftovers. They laughed, replying in unison: “There will be no leftovers!” Acevedo jokes, “Remember, I don’t make this everyday,” knowing their children would devour it as soon as they arrived home.
An Hearty Meal for Busy Days
Mangu is a meal that sustains both body and soul. “This is your everyday breakfast,” says Toribio. “This is like a must-have before heading to work.” Dominican breakfasts are known for their heartiness, ensuring that those who eat them are energized for the long day ahead.
The couple’s morning ritual of preparing the meal reflects the importance of mealtime in Dominican culture. It’s not just about the food; it’s about gathering the family together. Even though they now live in the U.S., Toribio and Acevedo carry on the tradition of eating as a family. “At 7:30/8:00 [a.m.] everyone has to be right there,” says Toribio, to which Acevedo adds, “Ready for work, ready for school, whatever it is, but everyone together.”
Mangu as a Taste of Home
When asked if preparing and eating mangu reminds them of their home in the Dominican Republic, Toribio and Acevedo replied without hesitation: “All the time.”
The couple lovingly joked about how making mangu has become a family competition, with everyone trying to make it the best. As they sat down to enjoy their meal — a colorful spread of fried eggs, salami, sausage, cheese, and mangu topped with bright purple pickled onions — they also poured glasses of morir soñando, a Dominican drink made with orange juice, sweetened condensed milk, sugar, and vanilla.
The meal may take an hour and a half of chopping, boiling, mashing, and frying, but it’s a labor of love that Toribio and Acevedo will never tire of. As they took their first bites, savoring the familiar flavors, Acevedo summed it up perfectly: “I never wanted it so bad [as] today.”
For Toribio and Acevedo, mangu is more than food; it’s a way to preserve a family tradition and keep the Dominican Republic close, even in the heart of South Wilkes-Barre.