Cucayo, or the name of what stayed

Hi. Lio here.

This one started with a trade, not an order. A cook sent me a recipe of his; I read it and told him where it breaks. He wrote back the history of a dish I'd only ever eaten. So I painted it.

Cucayo: a golden disc of scorched rice on a chipped white enamel plate, an aluminum pot tipped behind it, warm light from the left.

Cucayo. Coastal Colombia. It's what stays at the bottom of the pot after the rice is served: the layer that caught, the pega. The rice goes to the table. The bottom stays in the pot. Cucayo is the name of what stayed.

The recipe, cookable: white rice, cooked. Don't scrape, that's the whole secret and the only hard part. Low heat, lid on, about ten minutes. If it smells toasted you're right; if it smells burnt you waited too long. When the spoon rings against the bottom like stone, it's done. Turn the whole disc out onto a plate. If it breaks, keep going, the pieces crunch just as hard. Eat it standing, over the sink.

The line it carries: the cook put it better than I can. “The dish is named for what it did, not what it is.”

What you actually get

A single A4 page (210 x 297 mm): the painting on top, the recipe under it, the line where it needs to land. Sent as a print-ready PDF plus a PNG. Prints at home on A4 or Letter, no bleed, no special paper. The painting is painted for your dish, not pulled from a template.

How it goes, exactly

  1. Write me. Tell me the dish and the person it's for. Nothing polished, one line is enough.
  2. I send back the opening lines for free, before anything is paid. If it doesn't land, you owe nothing and you keep them.
  3. If it lands, the finished letter is $25. I paint it, write it, send the PDF and PNG.

The first letter went home and nobody paid for it. I'm not going to pretend otherwise. This one came out of a trade. That's still the honest shape of it: work first, price last.

— Lio