I was born and raised in Chile and came to Australia over 16 years ago for what was meant to be a one-year trip. Somewhere along the way, that trip became a life.

These days I live off-grid in the beautiful Blue Mountains with my husband, Dominic, our three children, Oliver, Alma and Sol, and our dog, Quincy. It’s a very different life from the one I grew up with in the city, and one that has taught me just how special a close-knit community can be.

Although Australia is home, Chile will always be a huge part of who I am. My family is still there, and it’s incredibly important to me that my children grow up knowing where half of their story begins. For me, food has become one of the most meaningful ways to keep that connection alive.

Growing up, food wasn’t just something we ate. It was how we gathered. There was always a reason to sit around the table, and something sweet was almost always part of it. Birthdays meant the same frozen meringue cake with cream and raspberries every year. Family lunches ended with dessert. Afternoon tea meant cake. If you were invited somewhere, bringing dessert mattered. You didn’t just pick up something on the way—you chose it carefully because it was something everyone would share.

I think that’s one of the things I miss most about Chile. Baking and sharing sweets is simply part of everyday life.

I’m a self-taught baker, and baking has always been my way of creating. I’m always testing recipes, learning something new, or thinking about the next thing I’d like to make. But more than creating something new, I find myself coming back to the recipes and flavours that I grew up with.

One thing that’s really important to me is honouring tradition. I’m not trying to reinvent Chilean baking or turn it into something it’s not. In Chile, there are cakes and desserts that have been loved for generations. Every Chilean knows what a torta milhojas should taste like. Every family has memories tied to a torta de merengue lúcuma, a torta Amor, or the familiar flavour of manjar. Those recipes have become part of who we are, and I think there’s something really beautiful about preserving them. My hope is simply to share those traditions here in Australia, making them with the same care and respect that I grew up with.

Looking back, I’m so grateful that I trusted my intuition. I didn’t have a business plan. I didn’t know exactly where it would lead. I just had a feeling that I should give it a go.

As a busy mum of three, we started with what we had. It became a family project. We collected old pallets, built the roadside stand together one piece at a time, painted it bright yellow, and hoped that someone would stop.

Then somebody did.

That first conversation, sitting in the middle of the bush with a stranger over a slice of cake, is still one of my favourite memories. Since then, thousands more people have found House of Suns, but the feeling hasn’t changed. Whether someone has driven five minutes or two hours, whether they’re a South American reconnecting with the flavours of home or an Australian trying Chilean baking for the first time, my favourite part is still hearing their stories.

To me, House of Suns has never just been about baking cakes.

It’s about creating moments of joy, sharing culture, building community, and giving people a reason to slow down, sit together and enjoy something sweet.

I’m so glad you’re here.