Even in the winter cold, Eliezer Albino was out working on 14th Street NW in Columbia Heights, cooking Puerto Rican dishes from a sidewalk kitchen.
Rice with pigeon peas in coconut milk. Roasted pork with a side of mofongo. Lettuce, tomato, and avocado salad with his special green sauce.
“It’s irresistible,” Albino, 52, tells DCist/WAMU about his cooking. Both the Washington Post and PoPville have agreed.
The food stand was Albino’s pride and joy. “Food represents what you love,” he says. “And I love my country, my people, and my terrain … that’s represented by the taste of my food.”
His makeshift cafe was also his primary source of income, allowing him to provide for himself and his 10-year-old son. That’s because, as COVID-19 spread across the city last March, he was laid off from his job cooking at the Washington Convention Center.
But about five weeks ago, his street stand set-up — including his chafing dishes, tents, table, coolers, and cooking equipment — were destroyed by an unknown assailant.
Now, the community, along with chef and humanitarian José Andrés, is offering to get Albino back to cooking.
Last week, Ward 1 Mutual Aid launched a GoFundMe to assist Albino in buying all new equipment, as first reported by PoPville. In only six days, the fundraiser has amassed nearly $9,000 — more than three times its initial goal of $2,500. Organizers have since disabled donations.
The effort’s success was undoubtedly aided by Andrés’ tweet, which said, “let’s get him a food truck.”
We can do better than that….let’s get him a food truck…if he thinks he needs it! I will look for him tomorrow….@PoPville but at least we will help him plus money for initial purchases etc…. https://t.co/RkHH8Vqh4E
— Chef José Andrés 🕊️🥘🍳 (@chefjoseandres) February 23, 2021
Albino grew up in Arecibo, Puerto Rico in what he calls a “Christian home.” His father was a minister and a college professor, and his mother was a school teacher.
At 17, he boarded a ship for a mission trip, criss-crossing the ocean to deliver aid and food in Latin America. He was hired as an assistant chef, an experience that fed his interest in cooking.
Albino spent nearly a year making food for up to 400 people, seven days a week, three times a day. But in 1988, the ship wrecked off the coast of Argentina. Albino still remembers the time: “It was January 4, 1988 at 10:45 p.m.,” he recalls. The passengers were rescued by the Chilean and Argentinian Navy, and “by the grace of God,” Albino says, everybody aboard survived.
He moved back to Puerto Rico for a short period of time before deciding to head off to the mainland United States in search of a better job. That’s when Albino landed in D.C. and dropped anchor in Columbia Heights.
Like many, he says he came to the mainland for a better life and to find success.
Albino worked all over D.C. to make that dream a reality: He cooked at the Johnny Rockets in Union Station, Capital City Brewing Company, an Italian bistro, a food stand on Columbia Road, and the Capitol Hilton. He even found time to enroll as a full-time student studying mass communication at the University of District of Columbia.
In 2017 he got his job at the Convention Center, and Albino says he was happy.
But then the pandemic struck. Restaurants closed, and as they did, thousands lost their jobs. The Washington Convention Center, meanwhile, became a makeshift field hospital.
Albino, too, was laid off.
“I immediately thought, ‘how long do I have before all of my savings are gone?,’” he says.
That’s when he set up shop on 14th Street.
Of course, Albino wasn’t the first entrepreneur to do this, particularly in Columbia Heights, which has a long tradition of food vendors who make the streets delicious.
Business started off slow for him, but as it tends to happen in D.C., word spread.
“One customer, two customers, three customers. Then, they are tweeting and texting,” Albino says. “Then, the next thing I know I’m on Popville. Then, the Washington Post. Then, I’m on Telemundo News. Next thing I know, I’m everywhere.”

He fed everyone his roasted pork and rice with pigeon peas even if they couldn’t afford to pay for it.
“People who were homeless would come…I’d tell them to ‘keep that dollar and let me give you a plate,’” he says. “I was homeless myself years ago. I know what it’s like to be sad, hungry, neglected, and rejected. I know what it’s like to be in their shoes.”
In mid-January, Albino had to move from his home. He packed all of his cooking equipment in a cart and left it by the parking lot of the mall in Columbia Heights.
When he came back a few hours later, his stuff was destroyed.
“Everything was thrown in trash and somebody stole my tents. It was a disaster,” he says.
Albino still doesn’t know who did it. Joie, an organizer for Ward 1 Mutual Aid who declined to share her last name for privacy reasons, says the act “follows a pattern of harassment towards vendors in the community,” but that this was a particularly egregious example.
No matter who or why, it broke Albino’s heart.
“It’s inexpressible,” he says. “I felt completely overwhelmed [and] thought, ‘it’s over now.'”
Albino let a few in the community know what had happened to him, and a community organizer connected Albino to Ward 1 Mutual Aid. Once the group launched its GoFundMe page, the fundraiser quickly took off.
Albino says he’s very thankful for the help and is planning to use the money to “put his shop back together.” He’s going to buy new equipment, more food, and keep cooking.
He wants to be back selling mofongo in the neighborhood as soon as March 1, if GoFundMe can disburse the funds before then. As for whatever money is left over, Albino says he’ll use it for food permits and licenses.
“Tax ID numbers, vendor ID numbers, business ID numbers… all that stuff cost money,” Albino says.
His dream is to have a permanent shop and, yes, a food truck, like Andrés suggested.
While Albino hasn’t heard from the famous chef yet, he says his mother and cousin are very excited for the prospect of his business expanding.
When asked if his ten-year old son has any interest in being a chef like his dad, Albino says no.
“I want him to be the first Puerto Rican president of the United States,” Albino says.
Then, his dad can whip up his famous roasted pork with rice and pigeon peas and serve it at the White House.
Matt Blitz