If you've ever visited Guatemala during October’s end, you may encounter the dizzying scent of pickles, the tapestry-like color flashes of beets, peppers, green beans and eggs, all arranged magisterially onto platters that seem ablaze with edible confetti. This is Fiambre Tradicional del 1 de Noviembre—perhaps Guatemala’s most iconic cold salad and an appetizer, main dish, and centerpiece of memory-making all in one. It is joy, remembrance, unity, and family—flavors threaded across generations and afterlives.
Fiambre isn’t merely food. It’s a living quilt. This recipe has its roots deeply planted in colonial times with precedent in Spanish and Moorish antipasto. Over centuries, swept up through generations of Catholic influence and indigenous rituals honoring the dead, it emerged as Guatemala's commemorative Table of the Dead feast for Día de Todos los Santos (All Saints' Day, November 1st). Each family tweaks its own Fiambre recipe—an edible act of homage. Ingredients are selected not just for taste, but for their symbolic ties to deceased relatives: some meats for toughness (strength), eggs for life, and so on. Preparing Fiambre is a matter for consultation amongst ancestors—no two salads are ever truly the same from house to house or year to year.
What sets Fiambre apart from anything you’ve tasted? It’s the sheer variety and balance. Cold, reserved vegetables (beets, cauliflower, carrots, beans, corn), prepared ahead and chilled, are an aromatic rainbow among finely sliced chorizo, salami, chicken, ham, and cheese. These are united with marinated vegetables like baby corn, capers, and myriad olives listed by the handful. Its vinaigrette, suffused with vinegar, smooth olive oil, Guatemalan mustard, oregano, sometimes even a trace of that family’s secret spice, soaks into the entire dish, marrying tang with the cooling mouthfeel and textural surprises.
After marinating, chilled for at least an hour, the dish is presented whole—a wild geometric layering of ingredients. Guests are served so each plate receives meat, veg, cheese, and garnish, welcoming all assembled and remembered. Some regions add seafood (fiambre rojo), while vegetarian takes exist (fiambre verde). Feel free to substitute local charcuterie or vegetarian sausages.
Making fiambre is a task best done ahead—and even better as a collective event with family. Slice, cube, and allocate your components so that on an expansive platter, there’s visual order and balance: the slide of shining red beetroots laid against slices of pink ham, crisp florets of white cauliflower beside chartreuse gherkins, bright yellow pickled corn standing upright. Hard boiled eggs intersperse for softness, cheeses alternate for boldness. Set it all off with green herbs and savory vinaigrette.
It’s customary and practical to marinate the completed platter for an hour or more, giving flavors time to develop. Some even assemble it on October 31st, providing plenty of time for every meat and pickle to express its personality.
As a chef, few things are more gratifying than serving fiambre. The gasps from first-timers who marvel at the color story, followed by their beaming faces after the first bite—a taste surprising silky, bold, tart, sweet, deeply savory—illustrate its magic. Fiambre morphs the very idea of salad from a side act to main event; every version is a fingerprint for a family.
Beyond flavor, preparing fiambre brings people together: each person engaged at the table offers more than another set of hands—they put forward decades of memory and affection for those absent and present. It deepens one's respect for ancestors and celebrates identity—culinary, familial, and national. If you want to host a tradition that's intensely personal yet simultaneously inclusive, carve out a night this autumn for Fiambre.
Honor, flavor, vivid memories, and the colors of life: that’s what awaits you in every bite of Fiambre Tradicional del 1 de Noviembre.