Tale of food from Timor-Leste to Eastern Market, Detroit
By: Safira Carvalho
Nutrition educator, Co-business owner of AHI MATAN and Food Storyteller
From: Timor-Leste | Program: YSEALI PFP fellow under IBF Host
The morning sun had just begun to rise as I walked from home to the Eastern Market. The cool air felt fresh, filling me with calm energy and quiet anticipation for the food-tasting adventure ahead. When I arrived the market, which is at the heart of Detroit’s food scene, was already alive. Vibrant stalls overflowed with fresh produce, the aroma of roasted coffee and baked goods filled the air, and people from all walks of life came together, sharing stories through food.
In that moment, I was reminded of home — of Timor-Leste, especially my days on Atauro Island and in Dili where I guided visitors through local food experiences as part of our food tourism work. Though thousands of miles apart, both places shared something profound: a community built around food, connection, and story.
Our lovely hosts, Chrissy and Chef E, the inspiring CEO and founder of In the Business of Food (IBF) — greeted me warmly and showed me around the market. Their energy set the tone for the day: open, curious, and full of heart. My first stop was Faust Haus Roasting Co., where I ordered a mocha with almond milk. Here comes the funny part — instead of saying “mocha,” I accidentally said “Mocila,” which, to my surprise, turned out to resemble one of their African coffee blends! That small mistake sparked a delightful conversation with Derek, the CEO of Faust Haus, who curiously guessed that Timor-Leste was part of the Pacific. He was right — and I was touched that he even knew of my small island nation.
As I sipped the mocha, the deep, earthy aroma instantly brought me back to Timor-Leste’s coffee farms. It carried the same warmth, patience, and pride I knew so well. It also reminded me of my African friends and the meals we shared — Injera, Fufu — foods that, like coffee, tell stories of land, labour, and love.
From my late adopted parents, I learned that food and drink are bridges between people. They connect hearts long before words are exchanged. After the coffee, I felt like balancing its bold bitterness with something sweet — and there they were: The French Cow crepes and Love’s Custard Pie. The first bite of the crepe, with its soft texture and gentle cinnamon aroma, felt like a dance on my tongue. Then came the custard pie — oh, that crust! Crunchy, golden, and unforgettable.
I called the kind owner “Tiu” — a respectful Tetum term for an elder. His warm smile and welcoming presence reminded me of my late adopted father and an old neighbor back home, both of whom taught me about the beauty of food and culture. The pie wasn’t just delicious — it carried a memory, a spirit of kindness, and a piece of home.
As we finished our tastings, Chef E, her mama, and I wandered through the market stalls, choosing fresh produce and chatting with vendors. I realized then that the Eastern Market wasn’t simply about selling food — it was about survival, resilience, and the human rhythm of creation. Every product, every smell, every taste carried a story of patience, hard work, and love. Therefore, in every bite, I could taste both labour and grace which the same essence I’ve always found in Timor-Leste’s kitchens and markets.
This journey — from a small island in Timor-Leste to the bustling heart of Detroit — reminded me that food is sacred when it carries the rhythm of its place and connects one soul to another. It doesn’t just feed the body; it nourishes memories, identity, and belonging.
Thank you, In the Business of Food (IBF), for making this experience possible which is a beautiful reminder that our stories and passions can travel through every meal we share, leaving behind flavours that last far beyond the taste.