But I didn’t know Vladimir Jr. well. I had talked to him just once before, for a story about baseball in the Dominican Republic, his baseball-crazed homeland. So I called his agent; we spoke a handful of times, and eventually a date to visit Alvino in Toronto was scheduled. By the time I knocked on the door of the apartment she shares with her husband and Vladimir Jr. during the season, I had talked to several players who had eaten her food over the years. All Tara and I needed to do was soak up as many details as possible of Alvino and her cooking.

We wanted a recipe to run with the story, but Alvino couldn’t share any formal ones since she rarely measured anything, the process was in her head and she was so used to cooking for 20 people at a time, not two or four. There were clues about her secrets in the story, though.

As the food cooked, Alvino sat and talked to me, but still in a hushed voice. Her husband, Damian, 69, woke up soon thereafter and sat on the couch to read the Bible. Vladimir Jr. arose around 11 a.m. He drank coffee while signing several dozen stickers for memorabilia and read the Bible before leaving for the stadium. Alvino packed several large containers of the food into two bags, which her husband helped Vladimir Jr. carry out of the apartment.

Later that day, Tara and I met up with Alvino and her husband at Rogers Centre. But before we left the apartment around noon, Alvino insisted we try the food. I tried to politely decline because it wasn’t intended for me. She wasn’t having it.

“So you know what you’re writing about,” she said as she served us. Hopefully it showed .