There is a distinct, sensory kind of magic that unfolds when the rich aroma of toasted chilies, warm cinnamon, and sweet pineapple drifts through an apartment hallway. For professional home cook Fabrizio Villalpando, it is the unmistakable scent of his childhood—and right now, it is the fragrance he is carrying right next door to share with his vecinos to celebrate community and connection.
Across the country in Los Angeles, Jon Dillanes—widely known to his digital audience as Hrna Eatz—is engaging in a very similar ritual. He is preparing a Latine-culture-inspired meal to hand-deliver to his next-door friends, treating the act of cooking as the ultimate, organic excuse to knock on a door, catch up, and spend meaningful time together.
Though they operate in different cities, both men share a common background as first-generation Mexican-American content creators whose work continually circles back to a single, unifying philosophy: food is far more than sustenance; it is a universal excuse to gather people around a table and foster genuine human connection.
Fabrizio’s Long Road to the Kitchen
Fabrizio is a professional home cook based in Brooklyn, and he will readily admit that seeing that job title attached to his name still brings a smile to his face. Reflecting on his career, he notes that he considers it one of the best jobs in the world.
His days are now spent conceptualizing his favorite dishes, sharing creative recipes with his growing digital audience, and occasionally inviting adventurous followers to cook alongside him in real-time. Yet, the path that led him to this professional contentment was long and demanding. Fabrizio’s journey in the culinary world began at the tender age of fourteen, when he took a job washing dishes at a small mom-and-pop restaurant in the Oregon town where he spent his formative years.
Working in a restaurant environment came with its own distinct perks, notably the constant exposure to food. As he explains, working in the kitchen means you are constantly surrounded by cooking, and you frequently get rewarded with eating a lot of good food simply because you are always there.
He maintained his footing in the industry for nearly a decade, eventually transitioning into high-end restaurant kitchens in Los Angeles. Observing seasoned chefs work their craft planted a profound creative seed in him: he realized that cooking was not just labor, but a legitimate art form worthy of dedicated pursuit. When the COVID-19 pandemic disrupted everyday life, Fabrizio took the opportunity to teach himself, starting with traditional French classics, the culinary philosophies of Julia Child, and foundational Italian techniques, before his natural curiosity eventually pulled him closer to his own cultural roots.
Jon’s Learning at His Mother’s Side
For Jon Dillanes, the culinary spark was ignited much earlier in life, rooted deeply in familial tradition and domestic warmth. He notes that his initial curiosity for cooking came directly from his mother, explaining that he grew up in a household where culinary literacy felt almost inherent. He humorously remarks that coming from his family feels like being born already knowing how to cook. As a small child, he would constantly hover in the home kitchen, patiently waiting for an opportunity to participate and asking how he could help.
Gradually, his responsibilities expanded from simple tasks like cracking eggs to operating the hand mixer by the time he reached the fifth or sixth grade. Looking back, he laughs about viewing that milestone as the biggest moment of his young life. Cracking eggs, he is quick to point out, was a surprisingly serious responsibility requiring precision—not a single speck of yolk could contaminate the whites, otherwise the meringue would fail to rise properly. He felt strongly that he was putting in real work and earning his place in the kitchen.
As a first-generation Mexican-American born and raised in Northern California and now residing in Los Angeles, Jon grew up with his mother—who hails originally from Guerrero—preparing the traditional recipes of her homeland. For a significant portion of his upbringing, it was primarily just the two of them at home, except for the frequent occasions when guests visited. He recalls loving the vibrant energy that visitors brought into the space, noting that after everyone eventually left, the house retained a powerful, lingering sense of vitality. That emotional resonance became the foundational seed for his entire culinary philosophy, viewing cooking as an active form of service for the people he loves.
Cooking Their Way Back to Their Roots
Fabrizio grew up in a Mexican household situated in a small northwestern town during the late 1990s and early 2000s, navigating the complex duality of being a first-generation Mexican-American child living simultaneously in two distinct cultural worlds. He reflects that inside the home, one culture prevailed, but the moment you stepped out the front door, the surrounding environment was completely different.
During his childhood, certain traditional practices occasionally puzzled him—for instance, wondering why anyone would bother pressing tortillas entirely by hand when convenient store-bought alternatives were readily available. Growing up, alongside numerous family trips to Mexico, provided the necessary perspective to understand the value of these traditions. Food gradually transformed into his primary method of cultural exploration. As his confidence in the kitchen grew, so did his curiosity about his culture and ancestry, leading him to use food as a deliberate tool to explore where his family originates.
His most cherished family memories are permanently preserved in the traditional Mexican recipes he now shares with his Instagram followers, such as the ever-present pot of beans simmering on the stovetop and his childhood chore of meticulously sorting through them to remove tiny stones. He remembers sitting at the dining table alongside his mother, sorting through piles of beans. Every Christmas, the heavy tortilla press would emerge to prepare lengua tacos, with young Fabrizio assigned the specific responsibility of mixing the masa, a small task he recalls with deep nostalgia.
For Jon, cooking evolved outward from a traditional Mexican foundation until it eventually encompassed a global culinary perspective. He notes that the recipes he prepared most frequently during his youth were the Mexican dishes he learned directly from his mother. However, every time he experienced restaurant dining outside the home, his immediate reaction was to figure out how to replicate those flavors domestically.
Relocating to Los Angeles fundamentally expanded his worldview. He describes the city as remarkably diverse and rich in culture, noting that his mind was consistently blown by the ability to access extraordinary global cuisine within a remarkably small radius. For Jon, food became an essential lens for understanding human beings. He expresses a never-ending curiosity for learning about the world through food because it provides profound insights into various cultures and shared histories.
Noche de Vecinos: Two Roads to SPAM, Same Passion for Cooking and Sharing
For Fabrizio, SPAM Classic holds a long-standing place in his culinary memory as one of his favorite childhood foods. Participating in the brand’s Noche de Vecinos initiative has given him the opportunity to apply his signature Mexican flavor profile to the ingredient for the first time.
His chosen dish draws direct inspiration from traditional tacos al pastor. He prepares SPAM Classic by frying it in an al pastor-style sauce crafted from blended pineapple, dried chilies steeped like tea, garlic, onion, cloves, and a subtle touch of cinnamon. On the side, he serves beans infused with cubed SPAM Classic, accompanied by handmade tortillas, fresh white onion, and cilantro. He notes that SPAM offers a convenient and accessible way to recreate a beloved and deeply delicious flavor profile, while also offering a deeply personal touch that reminds him of the smells of his childhood.
Jon discovered SPAM through an entirely different culinary trajectory. Growing up, his family’s primary takeout option was Chinese food from a local restaurant whose owners treated them like extended family. As he matured, Asian cuisines were among the first he explored beyond traditional Mexican cooking, and it was specifically through Korean culinary traditions that he encountered SPAM. He notes that SPAM is heavily integrated into many Korean dishes, which is how his appreciation for it developed. During a period when he lived with a Korean roommate, the two frequently engaged in reciprocal recipe exchanges, teaching each other traditional Mexican and Korean dishes.
His contribution to the Noche de Vecinos initiative is a fusion creation: SPAM Classic fried corn quesadillas. He presses fresh corn tortillas by hand, fills them with Monterey Jack cheese and a savory SPAM-and-onion mixture, and intentionally overstuffs them. By design, some of the cheese spills out and fries directly in the oil, creating crispy, crackly cheese edges that he considers the best part of the dish.
By substituting the traditional filling with SPAM, he maintains the inherent saltiness and savory bite of the classic fried quesadilla while adding a modern fusion inflection. He views fusion cooking as a natural reflection of the structural crossovers that already exist between different cultures and ingredients. Treating the creation much like a Mexican grilled cheese, he emphasizes that SPAM Classic serves as an ideal addition to a fried quesadilla. He finishes the dish with a tangy, crunchy pickled cabbage-and-onion cortado that he keeps constantly stocked in his refrigerator to provide essential texture.
It Was Never Really About the Food
When asked what he cherishes most about cooking for other people, Fabrizio candidly admits that hosting did not always come naturally to him. His earliest attempts at hosting dinner parties were, by his own description, rather stressful experiences characterized by sweating over the oven and feeling too nervous to socialize while his guests enjoyed themselves.
Over time, however, his perspective shifted dramatically. He realized that the gathering was never really about the food itself, but rather about what the food successfully creates in a shared space. He invokes the Spanish word ambiente to describe this phenomenon—the atmosphere and the overarching feeling of bringing friends, family, and even strangers together under one roof.
Jon is intimately familiar with that exact feeling. Every Sunday, he hosts gatherings he refers to as family dinners, though the attendees are members of his chosen family rather than relatives by blood—consisting of people he loves, cares about, and has formed deep connections with throughout his adult life.
For Jon, cooking functions simultaneously as a personal love language and an active expression of service. He has found that introducing SPAM to people who have never previously tasted it represents a fun culinary adventure. Being able to place it at the center of a well-crafted dish and watching someone react with genuine surprise at how delicious it tastes is a rewarding experience that broadens culinary horizons.
Ultimately, this ethos captures the core spirit of both creators’ journeys: taking ingredients rooted deeply in their individual identities, elevating them through craft, and carrying them next door to share with the people living just down the hall. As Fabrizio notes, food is a remarkably beautiful medium, and when it carries the comforting aroma of home and is shared openly across a neighbor’s table, it transforms into something far more meaningful than just a meal.
