Colombia is a country where diversity is not only celebrated—it is cooked. And it’s not just an attribute: it is a culinary principle. A single ingredient is enough to tell a story with many possible paths. From the salty winds of La Guajira to the volcanic mountains of Nariño, each territory puts forth its own identity, recognizable in the smoke of its hearths, the bustle of its markets, the roadside food stalls, the patios where grandmothers knead time, and the urban kitchens—author kitchens included—that reinterpret tradition. This route, which crosses the Caribbean, the Andean heartland and the country’s far south, invites you to discover a living map where Indigenous peoples, African heritage, internal migrations, and the diasporas that once arrived through the Caribbean—Arab, Syrian-Lebanese, Sephardic Jewish, Antillean, European—come together, bringing spices, breads, sweets and new ways of preparing and trading food. Added to this mixture is the sex-gender diverse community, which has helped shape this plurality, becoming a point of encounter, resistance and celebration.

In short, this is a country that cooks for everyone—and that “everyone” includes different identities, bodies, accents, and memories.

Let’s begin this journey with a flavor that unites us all: corn. In the hands of Wayuu cooks, rural families, Afro-descendant communities, paisas or pastusos, corn is transformed into dozens of preparations—revealing its range through arepas de maíz pelao’, corn bollos, sweet arepas de chócolo, steamed envueltos, almojábanas, cucas, and quimbolitos—a delicate, butter-scented, steam-cooked cake wrapped in tender achira leaves in Nariño. Likewise, cassava can be casabe, carimañola, a thick soup or a golden fritter; ñame becomes sancocho soup, a dessert, bollos or even fermented beverages; native potatoes appear in ceremonial broths, handmade chips and rustic breads. Colombia is a place where no ingredient has only one life.

In this map of flavors, the roads lead us to Sonsón, a town where paisa tradition lives alongside new generations—a dialogue between heritage and inspiration, all just around the corner. There, La Popular honors criolla cuisine with slow-cooked meats, the very patience offered by the artisans of this charming Antioquia town we hope you visit with a happy belly.

And in the cities, diversity thrives in spaces that warmly welcome everyone. In Medellín, San Baco greets you with a delightful fusion of good food to share, art and contemplative sunsets. There’s also Candelaria Café-Bar-Restaurante, a safe haven especially for lesbian women, where homemade dishes share the table with conversations that taste like community. In Laureles, Brunch Chick turns Sundays into a festive ritual: a colorful brunch, fresh fruit, indulgent dishes, and a vibrant drag show reminding us that cuisine is a perfect pretext to celebrate identity and freedom.

These places—intimate, festive, rural, urban—show just a fragment of what diversity means in Colombian cuisine. Diversity means having over a thousand fruits in a single geography; the infinite preparations made with corn, cassava or plantain; it means merging Indigenous techniques, Afro-descendant rhythms, rural heritage and flavors brought from other lands; it means that cuisine acts as a refuge, as celebration, memory, resistance and creation.

The road—always so deeply Colombian—is an open classroom with a voice of its own in this route. Improvised stands where a steaming pot, a roadside grill or a tray of fried snacks reveal the soul of a territory. There you’ll find arepas de maíz pelao’ in Uribia, bollos, bofe and Cordoban butifarras, sweet arepas along Antioquia’s highways, rural fritanga in the towns of Cundinamarca, and empanadas de añejo in Nariño. Eating on the road means stopping to talk, listening to the people who sustain these recipes—a real lesson from those who celebrate them daily, without pretension and without hurry. Silent guardians of flavor!

There are also the irresistible gems of Colombian cooking: Bogotá’s ajiaco, with potatoes that melt into a comforting broth; friche, the Wayuu dish of goat meat fried in its own fat until crispy and full of flavor; generous plantain soup from Antioquia ; and Nariño’s golden, crunchy cuy, or guinea pig, which connects you to the deepest Andes.

This route also invites you to pay special attention to a voice that protects the culinary legacy of his land: Jaime Rodríguez. When he’s not traveling to discover the next bite that crosses his path or receiving recognition for his work, you’ll find him at Celele, his restaurant in Cartagena, the result of a two-year journey through the Colombian Caribbean in search of ingredients, techniques and recipes. In his kitchen, nearly half the team belongs to the LGBTIQ+ community—a clear gesture of commitment to diversity and inclusion.

Corozo is not just a fruit: it can be a refreshing juice in Córdoba, a jelly spread on homemade bread in Sucre, a thick dessert for celebrations, an artisanal wine, or a boli—a kind of ice pop—sold in homes and corner stores to ease the heat across the Caribbean coast. It’s even the base for sauces served with fish or wild goat meat.

And if this tangy fruit is the Caribbean in one flavor, avocado dessert is the sweet expression of the Antioqueño mountains of Sonsón. At La Popular, try this surprising, creamy delight that challenges any preconceived idea about the fruit and proves that in Colombia, culinary imagination has no limits. In Bogotá, the route finds another beat. In Chapinero—diverse, nocturnal and full of life—Petunia has earned a special place in the city’s sweet memory. Its rainbow cake—fluffy, bright, soft—is a caress, a small joy for the soul that needs no explanation to enchant you.

This journey that honors diversity is ultimately an invitation to look at the country from the table—to understand that each culinary offering contains countless secrets and stories; behind every story, a territory; and behind every territory, a community that resists, invents and transforms. Our kitchens, no matter where they are, reveal who we are—and within that vast world of flavors and voices lies the true pleasure of traveling. Across this country, hospitality is always on the menu—served in a deep bowl. Bon appétit!