Dini McCullough Amozurrutia of Rockville on Life, Lessons & Legacy

We’re looking forward to introducing you to Dini McCullough Amozurrutia. Check out our conversation below.

Hi Dini, thank you so much for joining us today. We’re thrilled to learn more about your journey, values and what you are currently working on. Let’s start with an ice breaker: What do you think others are secretly struggling with—but never say?
I think a lot of people struggle with trusting themselves—really listening to their intuition—and with sitting quietly in discomfort. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, not just because it can get really uncomfortable running a small business, but also because, now in my 50s, I know myself better and tend to pay closer attention to how I navigate relationships, personal and professional.

Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I’m Dini McCullough Amozurrutia, founder of Dini’s Divine Pies in Rockville, Maryland. I baked my first Key Lime Pie during the pandemic, and something clicked. That pie turned into a small-batch bakery with a cult following. I am a public interest lawyer by trade, but now work full-time as a small business owner.

What makes us unique is that our pies are more than dessert—they’re edible stories, made by hand with the best ingredients we can find. Each recipe reflects a piece of my life: my Mexican-Irish heritage, my belief in food as an art form, my love of connecting people through shared experiences. Right now, I’m working to grow beyond my Maryland kitchen, building wholesale partnerships, experimenting with new seasonal flavors, and finding creative ways to promote beauty, comfort, and joy in a world that feels especially fraught right now.

Thanks for sharing that. Would love to go back in time and hear about how your past might have impacted who you are today. What was your earliest memory of feeling powerful?
I was eight years old, living on the Texas–Mexico border, when I first felt powerful. My grandmother ran a boarding house, and I would dress up for her guests and perform the entire soundtrack to Cabaret—singing, dancing, fully inhabiting a world I could hardly understand. But I loved the feeling of holding people’s attention, of making them laugh and smile. It was intoxicating.

That mix of fear and thrill—the warm glow of a literal or metaphorical spotlight—never really left me. I still feel it when I talk, when I tell stories, when I run my business. It’s the same tension between vulnerability and confidence that shapes so many parts of life—whether in love, parenting, or entrepreneurship.

Was there ever a time you almost gave up?
I’m not someone who gives up easily—sometimes that’s a blessing, sometimes a curse. After law school, I passed the bar exam on my third try. Ironically, it was the hardest of the three exams, with the lowest pass rate. When I learned that, I realized I’d been in my own way all along. My fear of failing had been the thing holding me back.

That last time I sat for the exam, I ate well, slept the night before, and walked in relaxed. This was before I knew anything about meditation, yoga, or mindfulness, but it showed me something important: we instinctively know what we need to succeed. We just have to quiet the noise and adjust our internal tuning forks so we can hear it.

I carry that lesson into my business today. Running a bakery is full of moments where fear can take over—slow sales days, big financial risks—but I’ve learned to focus on what I can control, trust the process, and keep moving forward, one pie at a time.

So a lot of these questions go deep, but if you are open to it, we’ve got a few more questions that we’d love to get your take on. Is the public version of you the real you?
That’s such a good question—I really appreciate it. These days, if you’ve got a company, you’ve got a brand. And if you’ve got a brand, you’ve got a story. In my case, that story is just…my story. My brand is me.

People will say, “It’s so great you’re following your dreams and your passion,” and sure, that’s part of it—but really, it’s about finding ways to tell my story. I’ve done that in a lot of forms—writing, visual art, even legal advocacy. It’s about how I grew up, the people I come from, my origins.

So yeah, the public me is the real me. I’m just careful about how much I put out there. I don’t really talk about my kids, and I don’t say much about my close relationships. I think boundaries are important. Social media can make it so easy to blur the line between storytelling and self-indulgence. I do my best to listen to myself…if I hesitate about posting something, there’s usually a good reason for it.

Okay, so let’s keep going with one more question that means a lot to us: If immortality were real, what would you build?
This makes me think of a sci-fi short story I read as a teenager—maybe by Arthur C. Clarke—about a future where human society has evolved into a state of peace, connection, and even telepathy. Of course, because it was a good story, there was must have been something eerie or tragic about the utopia that the protagonist had to contend with that I can’t remember, but the idea that we might shift away from war and violence toward a more pacifistic existence is deeply appealing.

If we ever got there, we’d still need ways to make life thrilling and interesting—maybe through technologies that let us safely test our limits and by putting a premium on creativity. Like freedivers plunging to great ocean depths without equipment, or artists making wild, beautiful things simply because they can. Maybe it would come from celebrating what makes us different instead of fearing it. What are we so afraid of?

I sometimes think that the closer we get to truly understanding and empathizing with one another, the more we can co-exist in ways that allow us to actually enjoy our lives. Everyone’s busy chasing a “recipe for happiness,” but I think the paradigm is wrong. Once we shift it—through mindfulness, radical acceptance, and letting go of what we can’t control—we’ll love better, laugh more, and live in healthier ways.

So if immortality were real (and maybe it is and we just haven’t evolved enough to comprehend it), I’d want to be on the team building technologies and societies rooted in community and connection rather than money, power, and resource battles. But I’d also keep the right balance of light and shadow—enough complexity to make life interesting, without ever tipping into dystopia.

And, of course, there’d be plenty of pie.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://dinisdivinepies.com/
• Instagram: @dinisdivinepies
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/dinisdivinepies/
• Yelp: https://www.yelp.com/biz/dinis-divine-pies-rockville