Jaime Spota Corona traces everything back to his grandfather's kitchen in Oaxaca. There, birria simmered slowly on the stove, and every recipe was a closely held family secret, preserved and passed down only to close relatives.
Today, those same traditions and flavors anchor his Denver food truck, Loma Bonita Kitchen, where each dish carries a taste of home and a story handed down through generations.
Corona was born in the small town of Loma Bonita, a fertile corner of Oaxaca, Mexico, best known for its pineapple plantations. It is also the place that inspired the name of his truck. "Cooking has always been part of my background. Actually, my grandpa back home has a taqueria that he started back in 1980 just selling birria. He passed on, unfortunately, and my uncle took it over, and it's still open to this day," he says.
When Corona was eight years old, he and his mother immigrated to Colorado to join relatives and embrace a different lifestyle. Growing up in Denver, surrounded by family members who worked in kitchens, he gravitated toward that line of work. At age seventeen, he landed a job at KFC. "I worked every single station there, essentially making chicken and all that good stuff. After that, it just kind of intrigued me, and I've been doing kitchen jobs ever since," Corona notes. From there, he bounced around, working in kitchens at pizzerias, sandwich shops and cheesesteak spots.
As he gained experience in kitchens and his interest in cooking continued to grow, he realized something was missing. "You know, all my uncles here and even my mom, we've all worked in kitchens, but I noticed that no one was using my grandpa's recipe. So, I'm like, I'm going to try it out. I spoke to my mom because she actually used to help make the birria back home, and decided to try it myself," he says.
Corona began making his family recipes at home, practicing and familiarizing himself with the flavors and techniques his grandfather had passed down, especially the birria. At the same time, he was working in the kitchens at UC Health and came up with the idea to sell his homemade dishes to coworkers. "After I sold it to them, they kept asking, 'Hey, when are you going to make that again?' And I realized, oh, it worked, they liked it. It's a good product. It just kind of went from there. That's how I got started, and it just evolved," he recalls.
After nearly a decade UC Health, Corona transitioned to a job at Denver Health, where he moved out of the kitchen and into a call center. Although the steady paycheck and generous benefits were welcome, he couldn't shake the feeling of being unfulfilled. "I was still selling food to my former coworkers at UC Health. At that point, I thought, what am I doing with myself? I'm wasting all this time. Don't get me wrong, I was making good money — actually the most money I had ever made. But I was miserable at my job," he admits.
So he emptied his 401(k) account and bought a food truck, which then sat in a lot unused for months while he tried to decide whether to take the leap. The turning point came after a frustrating day at Denver Health when Corona was asked to push food carts despite being injured. Instead of complying, he walked out for good. "That was the moment," he says. "It's either shit or get off the pot. It's either going to make me or break me. And sure enough, I just walked away and never looked back."
He officially launched Loma Bonita Kitchen in July 2024, bringing his grandfather's birria to the streets of Denver. In just over a year, he has learned the highs and lows of the business. "Every day, it's something new," says Corona. His menu has expanded beyond birria. He's added carne asada as well as carnitas, which are cooked in fat until tender and flavorful. He also serves al pastor the traditional way, shaved fresh from a vertical spit. "Definitely the best al pastor tacos in town," he says.
To keep the menu fresh and exciting, Corona rotates offerings frequently and includes specials such as chile rellenos, tamales, enchiladas and chicken mole. When asked about his cooking techniques and preparation, he smiles and says, "I can't tell you anything about it. It's a family secret. My wife doesn't even know." Among the more playful items on the menu is the Cali dog, a bacon-wrapped hot dog with grilled onions, peppers and Cheetos dust, inspired by a trip to Los Angeles.
Operating roughly five days a week, Corona rarely posts his schedule. "I just go where I'm supposed to go and I make it happen," he says. But, with the busy season coming to a close, he plans to adjust for the winter season and focus on selling meats by the pound and take-home taco kits from a semi-permanent spot at Lowe's on Havana Street.
For Corona, everything comes back to authenticity and respect for the food. Nothing is pre-bought or processed. Instead, he makes his own salsas and seasonings from scratch, holding tight to his family recipes.
For more information, follow @loma.bonitakitchen on Instagram.