My name is Carmen Velasco, and I’m a 42-year-old chef living in the sun-drenched town of Valencia, Spain. If you ever find yourself wandering the narrow streets near the Mercado Central, following the scent of saffron and roasted peppers, you might just stumble upon my little kitchen studio where I spend my days coaxing out the soul of Spanish cuisine.

I was raised in a bustling household filled with loud conversations, clinking glasses, and the rhythm of my abuela’s wooden spoon against a clay cazuela. She was the first woman I ever watched cook with authority, passion, and love—and she taught me that a meal is never just about food. It’s about connection, memory, and offering a piece of yourself on every plate.

I didn’t go to culinary school until I was 30. Before that, I worked in a bank, wore pencil skirts and heels, and lived a life that felt several shades too tight for me. It wasn’t until a particularly long lunch break when I made tortilla de patatas for my coworkers that I realized—I felt most myself in front of a stove, not a screen.

Since then, I’ve thrown myself into the world of cooking. I’ve learned from fishermen in Cádiz, mushroom foragers in La Rioja, and home cooks in the mountains of Asturias. My food isn’t about Michelin stars or stiff white jackets—it’s about joy, story, and creating flavors that linger in your heart as much as on your tongue.

I speak English fluently—my sister married an American and lives in Asheville, North Carolina—so I’ve come to know and adore the curiosity and warmth of women across the U.S. Through online classes, recipe newsletters, and even handwritten postcards, I’ve had the chance to share a slice of Spain with friends I’ve never met in person.

I believe in cooking with your hands, your heart, and your instincts. I believe in mistakes—they’re how I invented my now-famous smoky paprika aioli. And I believe that every woman, no matter her kitchen size or skill level, has the power to create something extraordinary.

So welcome to my world, where olive oil is golden magic, garlic is sacred, and cooking is a way of remembering who we are.