Mariana Velasquez

Mariana Velásquez has become known for her thoughtful, artful approach to entertaining, one that’s rooted in design, atmosphere, and of course the food itself. The Bogotá-born chef, food stylist, designer, and author has spent years shaping the worlds of food and hospitality through cookbooks, editorial projects, restaurants, and her own housewares line, Casa Velasquez.

“These days, home is wherever my suitcase lands. Between my book tour, a tabletop collection launch, and work that takes me to a different city almost every week, a ‘typical day’ no longer exists — and I’ve made my peace with that. What does exist is a set of rituals I carry with me. This is a day in my life, assembled from several trips, several cities, several tables that weren’t mine but felt like home by the end of the night.”

Breaking Down With Mariana Velasquez

I am, without apology, a chronic over-packer. My bag is almost always checked — I travel with knives and kitchen tools, and these days, a stack of my own books too. But the real essentials are the ones that make any room feel livable: a face mask, a pair of sneakers for stolen walks, good salt, and a French press. The coffee situation in hotels is non-negotiable, and I solved it years ago. And yes, once I traveled with a suitcase filled with silk flowers for a job...
— Packing
The pulp of any city lives in its markets, and nowhere taught me that more than Bogotá’s flower market. Buckets of eucalyptus, roses in colors I don’t have names for, vendors who’ve been there since before sunrise.
— The Flower Market, Bogotá
Once I’m in the air, I decompress the only way I know how: a book and a notebook to write all my thoughts, which tend to be delusional at 30K feet. I just finished reading Flesh by David Szalay. I resist the wi-fi almost every time. The plane is one of the last genuinely offline places left, and I’ve learned to treat it like that — a few hours where no one needs anything from me.
— On The Plane
Lunch at Maizajo reminded me why I do any of this. The kind of meal where each bite is sublime. Corn in every form, treated with the seriousness it deserves. Afterwards, Museo Jumex — because art resets something in the brain that food alone can’t reach. An hour in a good museum and I’m a different person by dinner.
— The Meal, Mexico City
The best part of any new city is what you didn’t plan for — a china and porcelain shop on the third floor of a building in Hong Kong, an art store with no sign, a textile you’ve never seen anywhere else. I build time into every trip for this kind of wandering. It’s research, it’s joy, and it’s usually where the objects are found.

— The Find, Hong Kong
Revel isn’t a book about having the perfect home. It’s about the impulse to gather — anywhere, anytime, with what you have. So when the book launched in Los Angeles, I did what felt most natural: I threw a party at my friend Nastassia’s place. A borrowed deck room, a bar cart, the right playlist, cake, cigarettes and people I love in the same space. The best parties are about deciding that right now, this is worth celebrating.
— The Cocktail Party, Los Angeles