The young entrepreneur Mariana Martin, founder of Carlota Mexican Bakery, talkedto La Converse about her migration journey. She looked back on the difficulties she encountered along the way, which she overcame thanks to the support of various communities.
When you walk through the door of the Carlota bakery, you are transported to another world. An orderly and colorful universe. A group of women seem to be enjoying their work. They talk in Spanish. This world smells good, and we leave with a bag of flavours.
Mariana Martin is a smiling young woman who pays a lot of attention to detail. Her contagious energy is reflected in her dress: leggings and a sporty T-shirt, her long hair tied in a ponytail. You can also notice it in her eyes: her eyes are attentive and lively.
For Mariana, food is much more than the fuel we consume. For as long as she can remember, she has always considered cooking to be an act of love. “I like to think that I put a little bit of myself in every loaf of bread,” she tells us.
This 28-year-old baker, born in Mexico City, came to Montreal in 2017 after studying at the Culinary Institute in New York and at the Institut Supérieur d'Agriculture et d'Agri-Food Rhône-Alpes in Lyon, France. She was only 15 when she realized she didn't want to follow the path her family had set for her: becoming a lawyer.
“It was a shock for them,” she recalls. My boyfriend at the time, who is now my husband, motivated me.” Convincing her parents, especially her father Roberto, that she could be happy and make a good living in the kitchen was not going to be easy, nor was the path leading to the bakery.
During her first experiences working in the kitchen, Mariana was a victim of sexual harassment. “I was very disappointed to realize what was in store for me: I was going to be considered easy prey, simply because I was very young and a woman.”
At 18, she began studying in New York and working in restaurants.
Two years later, upon returning to Mexico, Mariana no longer wanted to know anything about kitchens run by men. “I heard about chef Elena Reygadas — named “Best Female Chef in the World” in 2023 —, and who included Rosetta Bakery among her businesses. I went to work with her. She was a great source of inspiration.”
Unfortunately, Mariana was harassed. The episode reached the ears of Chef Reygadas, who reacted immediately: “This is a situation that I will not tolerate! I want all the women who work in my kitchens to feel safe. This person has been fired,” the boss assure
This episode left a lasting impression on Mariana. “It was the first time I felt welcomed by another woman on such a subject. I told myself that, if I were ever going to run a kitchen of my own, it would have to be from the same perspective.”
The tip of the cultural iceberg
In 2017, Mariana went to Lyon to prepare a diploma in food and agriculture. There she met a woman who came from Montreal with the dream — and the money — to build a bakery. “She offered to take the steps to get me to come with a work visa,” she explains.
That summer, Mariana moved to Montreal with her husband. At the end of the year, she started working at the Farine et Vanille bakery on Avenue du Parc.
At this point in her story, Mariana stops and cites the concept of the “cultural iceberg.” According to her, when we come into contact with a culture that we know superficially, most of the elements that really define it, and especially the most complex ones, escape us.
“That's what happened to me when I came here. First, I discovered the snow, the language, things that I really liked. But as I spent time here, I started to see the prejudices against Latinos, Eurocentrism, and how the colour of my skin was going to determine my role in this society.”
The reconquest of Concha
In November 2017, the young baker started making international pastries, with an emphasis on traditional French pastries. Then she felt the call of her roots. “I realized that there was a good opportunity to offer very good quality Mexican bread, taking care tu use the best ingredients,” she said.
Les Conchas vanilla beans that Mariana started offering have become very popular. Word of mouth has taken its course, first among Mexicans and then among all Latinos. Gradually, Mariana attracted more and more customers with her breads.
But things got complicated. “The person who brought me to Montreal to work no longer wanted to continue the business. However, I had a closed work permit at the time.” So she was faced with two options: find someone else who was willing to employ her and take care of her documents, or return to Mexico.
That's when the pandemic arrived.
Not knowing what to do, Mariana went to a Mexican entrepreneur, Claudia Vega, a customer who ran Café 92 Degrees. “Don't go back to Mexico, you can't leave us without your bread! I will sign the papers for you,” she assured her.
That's how Mariana started working in this café and, thanks to the support of Vega, launched her project: Carlota. “I worked 40 hours a week in the café, and in my free time, I baked my bread and sold it,” she says.
Two years of hard work followed, with gradual growth, like dough rising, until Mariana and her husband obtained permanent resident status. From there, she was able to stand on her own two feet.
Heart-shaped bread
When Mariana and her breads exceeded Claudia's kitchen capacity, her father offered her financial help. "Oye Hija, you are very good. Let me help you with your bakery,” he whispered. Mariana hesitated at first, but finally accepted. Four months later, in May 2022, Mr. Roberto passed away.
“My dad never got to see it, but for me, this company has a strong symbolism,” explains Mariana. She rented a room, bought used equipment and continued to place her orders until the opening of the Carlota bakery, on Saint-Urbain Street, on May 20, 2023. An important date: “It was the first anniversary of my father's death,” she said.
Between the walls and ovens of the Carlota Bakery, there are several love stories that inspired thename: Mariana's love for cooking and bread; her love for her father, who came to understand the value of her work. And then there is the story of Mariana and her husband, the fiancé who supported her at a very young age.
Behind the discourse
Although she sees herself as a privileged immigrant who arrived in the country without fleeing a conflict, with one profession and two languages, Mariana has suffered, during these eight years, discriminations that range from condescension to outright offense.
While working in the first bakery, a woman came into the store opened to ask for a baguette. Mariana asked her to wait. “Where are you from? That's why your country is like that, because you are lazy,” the client replied.
Mariana also mentions photos of her at her company, taken for the Getty Images platform, used without her knowledge to promote Emploi-Québec services, accompanied by the following text: “Have you just arrived? Our services are there to guide you.” “A lot of people think I'm in these photos because I'm known for my business, but that's only because of the colour of my skin. My image has been used in contexts where, what stands out, are my origins”, she said.
It's not the only label she had trouble wearing. In 2018, when she participated in the Best Baguette in Montreal competition, the person in charge of awarding the prize said: “A big thank you to all the bakers who participated and to their wives who let them do this work.” She was the only female candidate.
“Although machismo taught us that a woman's place is in the kitchen, from a professional perspective, it's not a place designed for us,” she notes.
Today, in her kitchen, where everyone is an immigrant, a customer sometimes comments with astonishment: “Look, they are all women! “If we were men, no one would say anything,” she notes. Mariana is proud to offer, as an entrepreneur, “the safe and harassment-free workplace that I would have liked to have had when I started.”
A lasting taste
Beyond labels, Mariana is optimistic about the future of Montreal's Latin American community. But she also admits to being a bit scared. “I would like to think that here in Canada, the political discourse about immigrants is nothing more than something prefabricated to gain followers, and that our actions have more weight,” she says.
For her, everything depends on the ability of communities to support each other, a solidarity like that which she herself enjoyed when all seemed lost. “I am convinced that we will continue to look out for each other and to break the stereotypes of these racist discourses. Continuing to support and help each other is the best act of rebellion,” she said.
Mariana relies on food to be the best tool in this resistance. “It's a way to build empathy and break prejudices, because we all love to eat. Through what we eat, we can talk about social and cultural crises, about globalization, about all the things that we don't usually think about and that are behind every dish we eat.”