Mi mesa es tu mesa – my table is your table. On September 24th, these words weren’t just spoken; they were lived, breathed, and served on every plate that crossed the transformed streets of Littleton.
The morning clouds and a slight mist covered Main Street and then parted, promising a perfect 70-degree day that felt like nature herself was blessing this historic gathering. As the last traffic cones were placed and the cacophony of city workers, police and first responders did their part, something magical was already stirring in the heart of Colorado – the largest single celebration of Hispanic Heritage Month the state had ever seen was about to unfold.
This wasn’t just another community event. This was the Hispanic Restaurant Association’s love letter to Littleton, a gift that had been months in the making, born from a simple yet profound belief: that food has the power to unite, to heal, and to build bridges where walls once stood.
The Maestros of Flavor
At the heart of this culinary symphony stood Chef Pablo Aya, the event’s culinary director whose culinary vision fed 3300 people. Like a conductor preparing for the performance of a lifetime, Pablo had orchestrated every detail, every flavor, every moment that would soon bring over 3,300 souls together around three impossibly long tables. Set side by side to cover all of the heart of Historic Downtown Littleton.
The preparation had been epic in scale. Chef Rudy Elsener of Rudy’s Catering had been up since dawn for days, nursing 800 pounds of meat through the slow, patient process of smoking – each brisket, shank and more…a testament to the time-honored traditions that would soon fill the streets with their intoxicating aroma. The smoke itself seemed to carry stories: of family gatherings, of celebrations passed down through generations, of love measured in hours of careful tending.
But the magic didn’t end with the initial smoking. As the sun rose on September 24th, Moises Godinez took his position at the smokers like a guardian of flavor itself. All day long, he tended those fires with the devotion of a priest maintaining a sacred flame, ensuring that every ounce of that precious 800 pounds of meat stayed heated to perfection, its flavors deepening with each passing hour. His steady presence became the heartbeat of the entire operation – while thousands gathered and celebrated, Moises stood sentinel, making sure that the very last person served would taste meat as tender and flavorful as the first.
At the newly formed Hispanic Culinary Institute, ( in a collaboration with Adams County) Chef John Mancha had transformed the space into a preparation powerhouse. Day after day, he worked alongside chefs Pablo Aya and Robert Grant. The institute, proud child of the Hispanic Restaurant Association, was already proving to be more than a school – it was a bridge between tradition and innovation, between the wisdom of abuelas and the soon to be realized dreams of aspiring culinary professionals.
Meanwhile, Chef Fausto Felix and the dedicated team at Riqueza Mexicana had undertaken a labor of love that defied imagination. Thousands of pounds of cowboy caviar and potato salad emerged from their kitchens – not just side dishes, but edible expressions of community care. Each spoonful represented countless hours of chopping, mixing, seasoning, and perfecting, all in service of strangers who would soon become neighbors.
The Alchemy of Fresh Tortillas
While the meat smoked and the sides were prepped, another kind of magic was happening at the tortilla stations. The teams from Cencalli Taqueria and Chef Luis Catering had transformed what could have been a simple task into an art form. All day long, they worked in perfect rhythm, their hands moving with the practiced grace of generations who understood that a tortilla isn’t just bread – it’s the foundation of every perfect bite.
The donated tortillas from Raquelitas and La Popular provided raw materials, but it was the skill and dedication of these teams that brought them to life. Over open flames and hot griddles, they cooked each tortilla to absolute perfection – achieving that magical moment when the surface bubbles just right, when the edges crisp slightly while the center remains tender, when the aroma rises like incense celebrating the grain itself.
Watching them work was hypnotic. Flip, check, flip again – each tortilla receiving individual attention even as hundreds passed through their stations. They understood what every great cook knows: that the difference between good and transcendent often lies in those final moments of preparation, in the care taken with what others might consider just part of the dinner.
The sight of fresh tortillas being passed hand to hand, still warm from the griddle, to be filled with Moises’s perfectly maintained meat, became one of the day’s most beautiful rhythms. It was an assembly line built on love rather than efficiency, where each station honored the work of the next, creating a chain of care that extended from the first slice of onion to the last satisfied smile.
A Community Rises
The sourcing of this feast told its own story of Colorado coming together. From food sourcing straight from Colorado farms and distributed by Hearty Provisions, fresh Colorado produce made its journey to Main Street, carrying with it the essence of local soil and the dedication of local farmers. Jay Ewald, CEO of Northern Feed and Bean, had opened his heart and his warehouses, donating beans that would anchor countless plates with earthy, satisfying nutrition.
The meat that Chef Rudy had so lovingly smoked came from the very best of Colorado’s ranchers – Centennial Cuts, Pleasant Valley Meats, Mountain View Meats, and Bear Creek Cattle Company. Each source represented families who had poured their lives into raising cattle with care and respect. When Raquelitas Tortillas and La Popular Tortillas donated thousands of fresh tortillas, they weren’t just providing bread – they were offering the very foundation upon which this celebration would be built.
Heritage Flame Catering, the culinary arm of the Hispanic Restaurant Association, served as the beating heart that pumped life into every logistical challenge. But they weren’t alone. Serendipity Catering stepped forward with the kind of flawless execution that only comes from deep professional respect and shared purpose, helping orchestrate the massive undertaking of feeding thousands.
The Hands That Served
Perhaps the most beautiful sight of all was the wave of young volunteers who descended upon Main Street like a force of pure goodwill. One hundred students from Heritage High School and Euclid Middle School, joined by their peers from Arapahoe Community College, transformed into the hands and hearts that would ensure every plate reached every person with care. These weren’t just volunteers – they were ambassadors of hospitality, living proof that the next generation understands the power of service.
Watching them work alongside seasoned chefs, learning not just how to serve food but how to serve community, was to witness the future of Littleton being written in real time. Each interaction between volunteer and guest, each smile exchanged over a steaming plate, was building the social fabric that would long outlast this single day.
When Local Government Becomes Poetry
Behind the scenes, the careful choreography of civic coordination unfolded with its own quiet beauty. Mike Gent, Deputy City Manager, had navigated the complex dance of shutting down Main Street, transforming a thoroughfare into a gathering place. His work, alongside overall planning leader Tami Slipher, proved that when government serves with heart, infrastructure becomes hospitality.
The day-to-day partnership between the Hispanic Restaurant Association, the City of Littleton, Lift Up Littleton, with support from the Longer Tables organization, wasn’t just about permits and logistics – it was about different corners of the community recognizing that some celebrations are too important to entrust to any single group. This was democracy in action, but democracy seasoned with tortilla and carne and served with a side of hope.
The Moment of Magic
As the afternoon sun reached its peak, Main Street had become something unprecedented. Over 3,300 people – families, friends, strangers who would leave as neighbors – gathered around tables that stretched further than anyone could have imagined. The sight was overwhelming: people engaged, conversation flowing, soulful generosity happening and the spirit of community being present. It was truly a soul fulfilling sight for all of us at the Hispanic Restaurant Association.
The food itself was poetry written in flavors. Each bite of perfectly smoked meat carried the patience of Chef Rudy’s early mornings and the steadfast dedication of Moises’s all-day vigil at the smokers. Every spoonful of cowboy caviar burst with the dedication of Chef Fausto’s team. The fresh tortillas, still warm from the loving hands of the Cencalli and Chef Luis Gurolla, spoke of traditions maintained and communities nourished. This wasn’t just a meal – it was a love story told in the language that everyone understands: the language of care made edible.
Each plate became a small miracle of coordination – meat that had been tended for hours, tortillas cooked to perfection moments before serving, vegetables chopped with precision, and flavors balanced to perfection. In every bite, you could taste not just the ingredients, but the incredible human effort that had made this day possible.
When Community Feeds Community
In the weeks leading up to the event, there had been whispered concerns among some local business owners. Would such a massive free feast draw people away from the restaurants that formed the backbone of Littleton’s dining scene? Would generosity somehow hurt the very community it sought to celebrate?
Those fears evaporated like morning mist under the September sun. Instead of competing with local establishments, the Longer Tables event became a source of filling the tables on a Wednesday night. People arrived early, filling many bars and restaurants, their excitement was palpable as they awaited the opening ceremony. The anticipation itself became a celebration, with early arrivals treating the morning like the prelude to a wedding feast.
But the real magic happened after the last tacos were served and the tables began to clear. Rather than heading home, satisfied and full, the 3,300 celebration attendees scattered throughout Littleton like seeds carried on a grateful wind. They filled many restaurants, ice cream shops with the infectious energy of people whose souls had been fed as much as their stomachs.
Little Man Ice Cream found themselves with lines stretching 45 minutes long – not because people were still hungry, but because they weren’t ready for the celebration to end. Families who had just shared a table with strangers now wanted to share dessert together, to extend the sweetness of the afternoon just a little longer. The wait became part of joy, another opportunity for new friendships to deepen and for the day’s conversations to continue.
Many restaurants in downtown Littleton experienced the same phenomenon. The usual dinner rush became a community-wide debrief session, with strangers recommending dishes to each other and friends processing the emotions that such an event inevitably stirred.
Restaurant owners who had worried about lost revenue instead found themselves with customers grabbing a addtional bite or drink – these were neighbors, energized and connected, eager to keep the celebration alive in every corner of downtown.
Capturing History in the Making
Throughout this extraordinary day, the team at Restaurantly.io worked alongside Colorado Food Magazine and Telemundo Colorado, who livestreamed the event, to document every moment of this historic celebration. Their cameras and expertise ensured that the magic unfolding on Main Street would be preserved not just in individual memories, but as a testament to what becomes possible when communities choose connection over division. Telemundo Colorado interviewed Jose Trujillo, the owner of the 1st Mexican Restaurant in Littleton from decades ago. The HRA was honored to have him and 20 members of his family attend. He was a true testament to a legacy born years ago…
From the early morning preparation rituals to the final satisfied smiles as the evening wound down, they captured the essence of mi mesa es tu mesa in action. Their documentation became more than simple recording – it was the creation of a visual love letter to community collaboration, a resource that would inspire other cities to dream bigger about what their own celebrations could become.
The ability to source the finest ingredients directly from Colorado’s ranchers and farmers was made possible through the generous financial support of Savinna’s Mexican Kitchen, Brinkerhoff Hospitality, Merlin AI, and Apeeling LLC. These visionary supporters understood that investing in community celebration is investing in the future of local connection. Their contributions allowed the Hispanic Restaurant Association to work with a distributor (Hearty Provisions) that sources directly from local farms, and work directly with the people who had raised the cattle and grown the produce – creating a farm-to-table celebration that honored every link in the chain from soil to smile.
This financial partnership represented more than funding; it was a vote of confidence in the power of food to transform communities. It was an investment in the belief that when we gather around tables with intention and generosity, we create something that outlasts any single meal, any single day, any single celebration.
Mi mesa es tu mesa – my table is your table. On September 24th, Littleton became one enormous table, and every seat was exactly where it belonged. The Hispanic Restaurant Association hadn’t just fed a community; they had fed the very soul of what community can become when we remember that our differences are not divisions but invitations to learn, to grow, and to celebrate together.
In a world that often feels divided, this perfect 70-degree day in September proved that there’s still nothing more powerful than the simple act of setting a table and saying, with our actions if not our words: “There’s room here for you. There’s always room here for you.”
This was Hispanic Heritage Month at its finest – not just a celebration of culture, but a demonstration of how culture, when shared with open hearts and supported by generous spirits, becomes the foundation for the kind of community we all long to call home.