Original subtitles

I learned long ago that stories are neither entirely true nor false.

They are nourished by half-truths,

well-told lies, or blurry memories.

Memories that get lost in the smoke of stoves,

infused with the smell of spices, and, like in a recipe,

blend as another ingredient with the food.

This is the story of my great-aunt Tita.

I'm not sure if this is exactly how it happened.

Part of it was passed down to me, and I read the rest in her diary

and the old blue recipe book.

However, with time, it turned into a sort of memory,

a memory of something I didn't experience

but that, in some way, is now part of my life.

They say Tita had such a close relationship with food

that even when she was in my great-grandmother's womb,

she would cry when onions were chopped.

You should put half an onion on your head.

The baby is crying again.

Don't be silly, Nacha.

One day, her crying was so intense that it brought on early labor.

Breathe, breathe, don't be afraid. Come on.

Up, up.

Up, up. There we go. Up, up.

Breathe, breathe.

Breathe. Take deep breaths. Don't be scared.

They also say my great-grandmother Elena

gave birth with way more pain than normal.

Like something inside her was preventing the delivery.

A little more. Almost there.

Look at me! Look at me! Breathe.

That way, Tita was literally pushed into this world

by an impressive torrent of tears.

They say the tears were so many that, when they evaporated,

Nacha filled up an 11-pound sack of salt

they used for cooking for several years.

Tita was born crying,

maybe because she sensed her mother didn't want her,

maybe because she was a woman in a male-dominated world,

or perhaps because she could sense that her destiny was already decided,

and her life would be a tough and long battle for happiness.

LIKE WATER FOR CHOCOLATE

One...

Two...

Three...

Four...

Five...

Six...

Seven...

Eight...

Nine...

No, not in there. It's Mom's room.

-So what? -We're not allowed in there.

Much better, Gertrudis won't find us there.

Ten! Here I come!

Where are you?

-Found you! -That's not fair.

Who went into my room?

Tita, Mommy.

Don't be a snitch, Rosaura.

How dare you, Tita de la Garza! Let this be the last time.

Mommy...

Tita!

Tita, don't be sad.

I'm not sad. I'm mad at Rosaura.

You know Rosaura only wants to look good with Mommy.

Let's go to the cornfield to play with the children.

Please, Tita.

Who is that?

That's Pedro, our neighbors' son, the Muzquiz.

He just got back from boarding school.

Hey, I dare you to get to the other side of the cornfield,

and the winner gets to slap the others ten times.

-I won't hit girls. -Well, I will.

Like chocolate melts with dried chili to make sauce,

Tita's soul melted with Pedro's in the eternity of that moment.

Without saying a word,

Tita and Pedro promised to love each other forever.

Without her mother's care,

Tita grew up in the kitchen by Nacha's side,

who passed on all her culinary knowledge.

An inheritance that came from many generations.

Add two tablespoons of cream.

It says in the recipe book that to make cream fritters,

you should separate the yolks from the whites

and beat them with the cream, until the mixture becomes thin.

Gently. Stir gently until well incorporated.

Then, you let it set for a few minutes in a buttered container.

Remember, only two, okay?

The leftover whites are mixed with sugar, orange zest,

anise, and cloves to make the syrup.

There you go.

Good?

Nacha taught Tita all the secrets.

What neither of them knew

was that Tita had the incredible ability

to pass her feelings onto the dishes she prepared.

Who are you cooking these fritters for?

Whether it was joy or sorrow, everything was infused with her.

It was as if Tita herself were another ingredient.

CREAM FRITTERS

Look what I brought you.

How did you know it's my favorite dish?

You told me once, and I remembered.

When you leave for the city, will you write?

Of course! Why wouldn't I?

-Every day? -Every day, Tita.

Every single day.

These fritters are driving me crazy.

The fritters were infused with everything

Tita couldn't express in words.

Anxiety about being away from Pedro.

Fear of losing the bond they had created.

But also hope that distance would increase their love.

When I come back, nothing will tear us apart.

PUEBLA CITY

Yesterday, the dictator Porfirio Díaz

dared to arrest Mr. Francisco Madero in Monterrey.

Díaz thinks that by arresting him, he shows strength. He's wrong.

What he shows is fear of our movement, and he'll have to arrest us all

to silence the cry for effective suffrage, no re-election.

Effective suffrage, no re-election!

Friends, it's in our hands for Díaz's successor to be the law.

The law of free elections. The law of the vote to govern.

The law of the vote of the people. Effective suffrage, no re-election!

Effective suffrage, no re-election!

You're under arrest for inciting insurrection.

What are you doing here? No one called you.

César!

César! César! Help!

César! César, respond! César!

Let's get out of here. Pedro!

I'm sorry.

Now you, Gertrudis.

Gertrudis...

I think you've practiced enough for the day.

-Yes, Mom. -In fact, Pierre,

I think my daughter can keep practicing alone.

I'll let you know if we need more lessons.

-Mommy... -No...

It's been a pleasure teaching you, Gertrudis.

Madame. Mademoiselle.

-I'll walk you out. -No, there's no need.

I insist. This way.

-Do you want me to go with them, Mom? -Tita, you go.

And don't lose sight of them.

Hey.

Five minutes.

You ask him too much, boss.

Moro is a very noble horse.

And he's capable of anything.

But if you don't give him a break and ride him continuously...

Why do I want a horse if it's not to ride it, Juan?

Look.

This bone is starting to grow on one side.

Are you sure it isn't wrongly shod or you didn't clean the hooves right?

I wouldn't argue about horses with Juan.

-Son! -Pedro.

Good morning.

How are you, Uncle? Nice to see you.

Nice to see you too.

Do you see how early lawyers wake up now?

I'll let it slide because of the trip, but tomorrow

you wake up by yourself at dawn or a bucket of water falls on you.

Okay, then.

So, are you staying?

Where did you want him to go? My son has too many laws in his head.

It's time for him to be here with his dad,

running this ranch, isn't it?

That's right.

Juan! When are we going for a nice ride to the hill?

-Tomorrow. -Good.

Tell your dad to leave the shed open to paint a few scorpions.

Well, he'll be thrilled when I tell him, Pedro.

Nice to see you, Uncle. Give your wife my regards.

On your behalf, Pedrito. On your behalf.

That's enough, Juan. Let's give Moro a rest.

Saddle Caramelo up and the mare for my brother.

Juan, my son's not a little kid anymore, and neither are you,

so from now on, I want you to call him Mr. Pedro, like me.

Or at least boss, understood?

Understood, boss.

I suppose we'll see you and your charming daughters

at the Independence Centennial Dance.

I hate those darn dances, but yes, we'll have to go.

How couldn't you?

It'll be full of distinguished men ready to get married.

Right. That's what they're good for.

There he comes.

Tita, can we talk?

How are you, Pedro?

Mrs. Elena. How are you?

-Fine. How is your father? -Quite well, thank you.

-Send him my regards. -On your behalf.

Do what I asked you.

The whole town is upside down because of that darn Centennial Dance.

A dance is the most boring thing, Mommy.

But if you insist, well, we might have to go.

If we go, we'll do it for your sister Rosaura,

so don't get too excited.

Why did young Muzquiz want to talk to you?

I don't know, Mommy.

And I honestly don't care.

-With this dress I look like Grandma. -Well, they were Grandma Lola's.

Mom has had them mended like 20 times already.

Why can't we have new dresses?

For the same reason Mom can't fix the roofs of the granaries,

she would fall behind on the peasants' payments.

Old and everything, I'd go to that dance just to wear this dress.

I might find someone who wants to take it off because it's old.

-Hey, Fina! -Why not now?

-No... -Help me.

No, wait, wait.

-This goes like this. -It's inside out.

Surely Pedro will go to the dance.

-What do I care? -What is it with Pedro?

He promised he'd write, and he didn't.

The city must be full of pretty young ladies, Tita.

So? I'm pretty too.

Even if I were hideous, I didn't get a single letter in two years.

-Pedro loves you, Tita. -How do you know?

Well, because I've noticed the way he looks at her.

You're not ready yet?

What's with that dress, Fina? Take it off right away.

Yes, ma'am.

This is your sister's big night.

So, you already know that if anyone asks you to dance,

you say no and tell them to ask her instead.

You look very beautiful, honey. Understood?

-Yes, Mom. -Yes, Mom.

Dr. Brown, good evening.

Gertrudis.

Rosaura.

Tita, you won't believe who I've just seen.

-Who? -Remember Dr. Brown?

Yes.

-He looks very different. -Really?

-We, on the other hand, are worried. -Why?

We've heard some news that people are starting to rise up.

I'm telling you.

The good news is that Madero is already in jail.

He may be in jail, but those rebellious Maderistas

are still poisoning the people.

They were supposed to be democratic, right?

They wanted elections, now they should accept the defeat.

What does young Muzquiz think?

I think Díaz did himself no favors with the results.

Don't you think it's scandalous that he won with 18,000 votes

and Madero didn't even get 200?

He's right. It was a scandalous display of power.

Good evening, gentlemen.

-Good evening. -Felipe.

-Nice to see you, brother-in-law. -Same here, sister-in-law.

Pedro, I heard you dropped out of school.

-Are you sure of that? -It's just for the time being.

They need me here right now.

That's good. Felipe, maybe the dance has already started.

I think it's about to start. Gentlemen.

-Excuse me. -No worries.

So, he's staying at the ranch.

It was bound to happen one day.

One day, he'll take everything that belongs to you.

Let's dance.

Pedro?

-My friend. -It's been a while.

We need to talk.

Later.

Nice to see you, Santiago.

And those outlaws used to be laborers not so long ago.

What do you think of the guy with the mustache over there?

He'd look better with a full beard, it'd cover his face better.

Young ladies, you see the flaws in everyone.

Here comes Dr. Brown.

Rosaura.

-Gertrudis. -Doctor.

Tita.

Who would have thought?

Not long ago, you were just a girl, and now...

Well, now you're quite a beautiful woman.

How sweet, Dr. Brown.

May I have this dance?

-Yes, Dr. Brown. -Excuse me?

I do want to dance with you. Come on.

-Gertrudis... -You know this one.

-Is that how you obey me? -I did nothing wrong.

No?

You knew you couldn't dance

and that you had to pass all the proposals on to your sister.

-Pedro asked me to dance, not Rosaura. -And you accepted.

I forbid you to go back to the dance, Tita.

-Gertrudis was also dancing. -Leave your sister out of this.

You'll stay up here, and woe to you, Tita de la Garza,

if you go back and humiliate me again.

Yes, Mom.

Pedro.

Come with me.

-I'm glad to see you. -How are our affairs going?

Good. I just contacted several groups.

They're peasants, laborers,

people who have abandoned these landlords' ranches.

They're full of rage, they have nothing to lose.

Our cause is worthless without those laborers.

They can't do anything with that resentment without guns.

Right these days, I'm traveling to Texas.

I'm going to gather money and weapons.

Surely, at some point, I'll need your help, Pedro.

Of course, that's why we came back here. Look at them.

They think they can keep ruling like this for another 30 years.

Madero is right. We have to guide and arm the people.

For César.

For César.

Take care.

-You're extraordinary. -Thanks, but let's not waste time, okay?

Okay.

I'll never forget you. I'll carry you in my memory all my life.

-Anything else? -I love you.

And I love you, Pierre.

Can you make love to me before my mother comes and finds us?

Of course.

Tita, the other day at church, you treated me as if I were a stranger.

But just now,

when we were dancing, it was us,

the same as always.

I haven't changed, Pedro.

Neither have I.

Are you sure?

Because the Pedro I knew kept his promises.

-He said he was going to write to me. -I did.

-Not a single letter. -Tita, I wrote dozens.

Dozens?

I wrote every day.

Entire weeks, until I got tired of you not answering a single one.

Then,

you didn't meet anyone in the city.

One day, walking through a market in the Zócalo,

I sensed a familiar smell.

At a stall, they were selling cream fritters.

I tried one.

I had to tell them they had no idea how to make real cream fritters.

Tita, nothing tastes the same without you.

Nothing makes sense.

I love you.

That girl's always in a hurry.

Nacha!

Pedro loves me.

Pedro Muzquiz loves me.

What happened, girl?

He wrote a lot of letters, but I never received any.

What then?

He wants to marry me.

We are going to be so happy, and you are coming to live with us.

God willing.

Among the many obligations my great-grandmother imposed on Tita...

there was the dubious privilege of helping her bathe.

Tita was the only one who could see her naked.

It was a time when decency was a virtue, strangely enough.

-Mommy... -Yes?

Pedro Muzquiz and his dad want to come see you.

What for?

I don't know.

They just sent me a note asking to see you.

Well, tell them they can save the trip.

-Why? -No Muzquiz is going to set foot

in this house, did you hear me?

The Muzquiz are bad people.

They took advantage of me, they are thieves.

They stole from us.

-What did they steal? -This water has cooled down.

Rosario, how are you?

Good morning, Amancio.

-Good morning, Miss. -Good morning.

Remedios.

-Miss Tita. -Was the soup I sent you good?

-Yes, my girl fell asleep. -That's good.

Excuse me.

Delfino, how are you?

Very well, Miss Tita. What can I do for you?

Nothing, I just want to have a little chat with you.

Of course.

What is it?

Do you know what happened between my mom and the Muzquiz?

Do you remember the cattle?

Well, those animals were the pure pride of the ranch.

Your mom didn't have much money.

Mr. Pedro found out and offered her something for the cattle.

An offensive offer, like those made at the beginning of a negotiation.

What then?

Your mom could use the money, so she accepted.

She sold them below their value,

but the truth is that she accepted the deal.

Mr. Pedro could have been more merciful with a widow, but you know how he is.

He's a greedy man, and very proud too.

Thank you, Delfino. Have a good day.

Any time.

Every time Tita needed to gather her thoughts,

she resorted to cooking.

The aromas and flavors of the stews when they were touched by fire

were the things that pushed Tita to make her own decisions.

-Hello. -I brought some quesadillas.

Come here.

Tita, they're amazing.

I was talking to my mom,

she'll make it difficult for us.

It seems she has some unsolved issues with your dad.

I know.

What if when you come to ask for my hand, as an engagement present,

you offer my mom the cattle she sold to your dad?

Cattle? No, no, Tita, that's way too much.

I know. But I'm sure my mom won't say no.

I'm sure my dad will say no.

But if we get married, the cattle stay in the family.

Don't you think that's the perfect solution?

-Do you know what? -What?

I think it might work.

-Really? -Yes.

It had to be a de la Garza.

I can't stand that damn lady, I just can't.

I can't let her be part of our family. That's nonsense.

The daughter of Mr. Genaro, the governor, is gorgeous.

Or Mr. Mauro's niece. There are dozens of girls from good families, Pedro.

I already made my choice.

Sure, it's easy to decide with the goods of others.

Look, I made an offer to Mrs. Elena for that cattle,

-she accepted. -That's not the issue.

Yes, that is the issue.

She should be coming with her daughter and a good dowry.

She should be happy to make her daughter a Muzquiz.

But instead, I have to do what?

Give the cattle away? My cattle!

How am I supposed to understand that?

-Dad. -What?

I'm marrying Tita whether you want it or not.

You don't want to get rid of those cows?

Okay, I'll find a way.

-This is very good. -Tita made it.

Dad, Tita is the only woman I love.

It's only her.

We could leave that damn lady out of the agreement

and the cattle is for both of you and your children.

I guess so. Yes.

Well, so, in that case,

no matter what, it stays in the family.

Do you really think a couple of cows matter more

than your happiness to me, Pedro?

For whom have I worked all those damn years, if not for you?

Everything I have is yours.

Are you sure?

Well, so be it.

-Cheers. -Cheers.

As my family told the story,

it was never clear if it was Pedro's words

that finally convinced his father,

or if it was Tita's deep desire that melted into those quesadillas.

Tita dreamed not only of Pedro asking for her hand,

but also that, with the return of the cattle,

for the first time, her mom would be proud of her.

Ma'am, Mr. Pedro Muzquiz and his son are here.

-They want to see you. -What did I tell you, Tita?

I don't know what they want.

Okay, Fina, send them to the visiting room.

Cream fritters.

Well, Mr. Pedro, what do I owe such an unexpected visit to?

Well, Mrs. Elena,

you know me, I don't beat around the bush.

My son Pedro here is in love with your daughter Tita,

and we're here to ask for her hand.

I'm sorry your trip has been in vain.

I don't plan to grant my daughter Tita's hand.

Since she is my youngest, I have my own plans for her.

Mrs. Elena, I love Tita and I want to marry her.

I assure you that her needs will be fulfilled.

I insist, that wedding is impossible.

Now, if excuse me, I have matters to attend to.

Mrs. Elena, I understand,

but for your own interest, you should listen to my father's offer.

Yes, well, my son...

I mean, we offer you,

as bride price for your daughter Tita, our cattle.

That is the part I bought from you back in the day.

It's a very generous offer.

But at the moment, I only plan to marry my firstborn daughter, Rosaura.

That's the right thing to do.

Mrs. Elena, I think it's wise...

I insist, Tita is not leaving this house.

But we could find a solution.

Why are they taking so long?

The Muzquiz are leaving.

They came to ask for Tita's hand.

And yes, there will be a wedding.

But as I explained to them, a long time ago,

I decided that Tita is going to stay in this house

to take care of me until I die.

What are you saying, Mommy?

Pedro Muzquiz is going to marry Rosaura.