Established by escaped slaves and formally recognized as a free settlement in 1713, Palenque became the first free Black town in the Americas. Today, Palenquera women are maintaining that ancestral connection through cooking. Writer Annie Brown Verdin visits the Afro-Colombian town and finds that freedom tastes sweet. Literally.
By the time I reach Ruperta Cañate Teherán’s open-air backyard kitchen, she’s deep into her first lesson of the day, guiding a small group of us in making traditional Palenque desserts. She works strips of coconut meat up and down a metal grater in quick, practiced strokes. Her head is wrapped in a vibrant turbante, a traditional Afro-Colombian headwrap, of yellow, blue, and red—the colors of the Colombian flag.
Nearby, a pot bubbles over an open fire and she directs her guests to stir the golden mixture with a long stick. The rising scent hits me immediately: Warm cinnamon, toasted coconut, and the sweetness of sugarcane reducing. It’s the kind of smell that reminds me of Christmas morning, comforting and familiar.
Seeing Ruperta in her traditional dress reminds me of the Palenquera women I noticed years ago on my first trip to Cartagena, Colombia’s port city on the Caribbean coast. Dressed colorfully, carrying fruit bowls atop their heads, theirs was a story I was eager to learn. And that’s what brought me here, to San Basilio de Palenque, two hours southeast of Cartagena’s ‘Walled City’.
Known simply as ‘Palenque’ to locals, the town’s location—in the foothills of the Montes de Maria—is part of its legacy. In the early 1600s, a small group of Africans escaped slavery and formed one of Colombia’s earliest ‘palenques’: A free settlement built by fugitive slave communities. These groups frequently relocated as colonizers closed in, eventually settling on the land where Palenque sits today.
Benkos Biohó, an African royal from Guinea-Bissau who was trafficked through Cartagena, led a group of ten others to establish Palenque. In the town’s main square, a towering monument depicts Biohó gripping broken chains with one hand, the other outstretched toward Africa—a gesture of freedom and the Palenquero belief that the spirit returns home to Africa after death. In 1713, 139 years before Colombia abolished slavery, the Spanish crown formally recognized Palenque as a free settlement, earning its place in history as the first free Black town in the Americas.
“Gastronomy is a direct line to our ancestors. The sugarcane was harvested by our men, on our land.”
- Antonia ‘Samba’ Cassiani Padilla, archivist
Today, traces of that resilience still shape daily life in Palenque, especially in its kitchens where women like Ruperta uphold culinary traditions. Ruperta explains that many traditional recipes became a part of the community’s identity through necessity and access. Families relied on whatever the land offered, like coconuts, sugarcane, plantains, and mangoes.
From those ingredients came the sweets Palenque is known for today. Alegría, which means ‘joy’, is a sweet crispy treat of puffed corn and sugarcane syrup named for the happiness their ancestors felt upon gaining freedom. Cocadas, small mounds of shaved coconut, are bound by sugarcane syrup and come in many flavors, from milk, and guayaba (guava-pear) to mango and papaya. I savor each one: The alegría crunches and sticks to my teeth like caramel corn, while the cocadas are soft and chewy, each slightly sweetened by its fruit.
As Ruperta and I chat, one of the yard chickens attempts to sneak a bite of simmering sugarcane. She shoos the chicken away, calling it ‘niño’ (child) before laughing that it might end up being dinner.
For generations, these desserts have been carried into Cartagena by Palenquera women selling their goods by the port and in markets. This daily commute eventually led some families to relocate permanently in search of greater opportunity, establishing the Palenquera community presence visitors can see today. Many of the women establish their own selling spots throughout the historic city center—places they return to daily, where locals know to find them.
One of these women is Magdalena Canyate Salgado, who moved from Palenque to Cartagena at the age of eight. Now approaching seventy, she spends her days in the Plaza de San Diego, near luxury hotels and souvenir markets. I notice her each afternoon, her freckles brightening as she smiles and greets the steady stream of familiar faces who stop to say hello. When we chat, she laughs as I recount my recent trip to Ruperta’s house. It turns out they’re cousins.
Magdalena tells me about her favorite traditional foods to cook: Coconut rice, fried fish, and sancocho—a hearty stew of chicken or beef with plantains and root vegetables. These are all dishes her grandmother taught her to make. It becomes clear that, like Ruperta’s candies, these dishes were also shaped by what the region provided. Fish from the sea, coconuts and plantains in the trees, and root vegetables pulled straight from the soil.
And yet, traditions don’t preserve themselves, especially as women like Ruperta and Magdalena grow older. The work of carrying these traditions now rests with a new generation, and in Palenque, one of the women leading that effort is Antonia ‘Samba’ Cassiani Padilla.
Samba greets us at the entrance of her small cultural museum, Simankongo, a clay-walled house with a thatched roof and open patio serving as both kitchen and archive. The dirt floor and neatly arranged artifacts are deliberate: They transport visitors to the Palenque of the past, long before homes were made of concrete and tin roofs.
I unwrap my alegría and savor it slowly, recognizing the ingredients and their origins in a way I couldn’t before this trip.
Before opening the museum, Samba worked in healthcare, spending her days listening to elders recount memories from half a century earlier. “I was 20 years old learning things about my own culture I had never known,” she tells me. When she noticed families throwing away traditional tools in favor of modern materials, she realized a part of Palenque’s history was in jeopardy. Now, at 50 years old, her museum stands as one of the town’s most essential archives, preserving ancestral artifacts like furniture, cookware, and musical instruments
Samba lifts a wooden pilón—well over a century old—and begins pounding corn in a steady rhythm. “Gastronomy is a direct line to our ancestors,” she says. “The sugarcane was harvested by our men, on our land.” She speaks of how Palenquera women were the first to leave town to sell traditional sweets, turning food into a strategic tool for both survival and legacy.
Work like Samba’s is why Palenque was recognized as a UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity Site in 2005. The designation honors communities whose living traditions, such as language, medicine, and foodways, are so essential to understanding their past that their preservation is considered a global responsibility. Now, 20 years after that recognition, experiencing these traditions firsthand reminds me that travel has the power to preserve what time threatens to erase.
Back in Cartagena, I wander through the Portal de los Dulces (Gateway of the Sweets), where visitors can sample traditional Palenquera candies today. As tourists rush to snap photos and select souvenirs, I set out to find a post-dinner treat. I unwrap my alegría and savor it slowly, recognizing the ingredients and their origins in a way I couldn’t before this trip.
I think of Ruperta, Magdalena, and Samba and how a simple candy revealed a story far bigger than itself. I wonder how this candy and tradition might evolve over time, or how it might remain unchanged. But whatever the future holds, I’m certain that joy will remain the key ingredient.
To visit Palenque, book the Palenque Queens and Kingsland through Beyond the Wall Cartagena Tours.
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Annie Brown Verdin is a bilingual food and travel writer based in Austin whose work lives at the intersection of food, culture, and history. With bylines in Food & Wine and Modern South, she travels in search of the everyday rituals that shape how people live. When she's not writing, she's likely testing new cocktails, cooking for friends, or mapping out her next adventure.
