Tita Quotes

It was very pleasant to savor its aroma, for smells have the power to evoke the past, bringing back sounds and even other smells that have no match in the present. -Tita

Tita knew through her own flesh how fire transforms the elements, how a lump of corn flour is changed into a tortilla, how a soul that hasn't been warmed by the fire of love is lifeless, like a useless ball of corn flour.

Inclusive se convertían en motivo de diversión, a tal grado que durante su niñez Tita no diferenciaba bien las lágrimas de la risa de las del llanto. Para ella reír era una manera de llorar.

And even though he doesn't mean it like I-want-to-leave-my-girlfriend-and-start-dating-you cute, something flickers inside of me. The "force of strength and destruction" Tita de la Garza knew so well.

In typical Filipino fashion, my aunt expressed her love not through words of encouragement or affectionate embraces, but through food. Food was how she communicated. Food was how she found her place in the world.

Tita bajó la cabeza y con la misma fuerza con que sus lágrimas cayeron sobre la mesa, así cayó sobre ella su destino. Y desde ese momento supieron ella y la mesa que no podían modificar ni tantito la dirección de esas fuerzas desconocidas que la obligaban, a la una, a compartir con Tita su sino, recibiendo sus amargas lágrimas desde el momento en que nació, y a la otra a asumir esa absurda determinación

-Perdóneme, Pedro. ¿Lo lastimé? -No tanto como yo la he lastimado, déjeme decirle que mi propósito... -No le he pedido ninguna explicación. -Es necesario que me permita dirigirle unas palabras... -Una vez lo hice y resultaron una mentira, no quiero escucharlo más...

¡Maldita decencia! ¡Maldito manual de Carreño! Por su culpa su cuerpo quedaba destinado a marchitarse poco a poco, sin remedio alguno. ¡Y maldito Pedro tan decente, tan correcto, tan varonil, tan... tan amado! -Tita

Lo que me dijiste no cambió mi manera de pensar y te repito que me encantaría ser el compañero de toda tu vida, pero quiero que pienses muy bien si ese hombre soy yo o no. Si tu respuesta es afirmativa, celebraremos la boda dentro de unos días. Si no, yo seré el primero en felicitar a Pedro y pedirle que te dé el lugar que te mereces

Hay muchas maneras de poner a secar una caja de cerillos húmeda, pero puede estar segura de que tiene remedio

durante su niñez Tita no diferenciaba bien las lágrimas de la risa de las del llanto. Para ella reír era una manera de llorar. De

…durante su niñez Tita no diferenciaba bien las lágrimas de la risa de las del llanto. Para ella reír era una manera de llorar. De igual forma confundía el gozo del vivir con el de comer. No era fácil para una persona que conoció la vida a través de la cocina entender el mundo exterior.

Why did you do that, Pedro? It will look ridiculous, you agreeing to marry Rosaura. What happened to the eternal love you swore to Tita? Aren't you going to keep that vow?' 'Of course I'll keep it. When you're told there's no way you can marry the woman you love, and your only hope of being near her is to marry her sister, wouldn't you do the same?' 'So you intend to marry without love?' 'No, Papa. I am going to marry with a great love for Tita that will never die.

Even someone like me felt utang na loob, that impossible to quantify sense of indebtedness and gratitude, to the people who’d raised me. But where was that magical line between selfishness and independence? Between my family and myself?

Her greatest nightmare was holding a party and not having enough food for everyone.

Al escuchar la confirmación de la noticia, Tita sintió como si el invierno le hubiera entrado al cuerpo de golpe y porrazo:

So even though I was an only child, I had enough godmothers, cousins, aunties, and uncles to populate a small village. Or at least a relatively small town that began to feel smaller and more suffocating the older I got.

I made it to Adeena’s fifteen minutes late, which in Brown People Time (BPT) meant I was actually a little early.

Claro que lo sabía. Y claro que lo iba a considerar cuando tomara su decisión, la definitiva, la que determinaría todo su futuro

I’ve never met people so enthusiastic about their food before.

Decidió darle utilidad al estambre en lugar de desperdiciarlo y rabiosamente tejió y lloró, y lloró y tejió, hasta que en la madrugada terminó la colcha y se la echó encima. De nada sirvió. Ni esa noche ni muchas otras mientras vivió logró controlar el frí

All that time and money for your fancy education, you’d think your vocabulary would’ve improved by now. English isn’t even my first language and I’m practically Shakespeare compared to you.

I am going to die. Sooner if not later. Tomorrow, if not fifty years later. That means I cannot waste time. I know I cannot help but waste time every now and then, but when I can I will make sure that every waking moment is spent in the pursuit of knowledge.

Tita se alejó rápidamente, dejando a John completamente desconcertado. Ella también lo estaba, pero se recuperó de inmediato al sentir en sus brazos a Roberto. Qué le importaba su destino mientras pudiera tener cerca a ese niño, que era más suyo que de nadie

Como ve, todos tenemos en nuestro interior los elementos necesarios para producir fósforo. Es más, déjeme decirle algo que a nadie le he confiado. Mi abuela tenía una teoría muy interesante, decía que si bien todos nacemos con una caja de cerillos en nuestro interior, no los podemos encender solos, necesitamos como en el experimento, oxígeno y la ayuda de una vela. Sólo que en este caso el oxígeno tiene que provenir, por ejemplo, del aliento de la persona amada; la vela puede ser cualquier tipo de alimento, música, caricia, palabra o sonido que haga disparar el detonador y así encender uno de los cerillos. Por un momento nos sentiremos deslumbrados por una intensa emoción. Se producirá en nuestro interior un agradable calor que irá desapareciendo poco a poco conforme pase el tiempo, hasta que venga una nueva explosión a reavivarlo. Cada persona tiene que descubrir cuáles son sus detonadores para poder vivir, pues la combustión que se produce al encenderse uno de ellos es lo que nutre la energía al alma. En otras palabras, esta combustión es su alimento. Si uno no descubre a tiempo cuáles son sus propios detonadores, la caja de cerillos se humedece y ya nunca podremos encender un solo fósforo

«Porque no quiero». Tita con estas tres palabras había dado el primer paso hacia la libertad. Mientras

A Tita le encantaría ser una simple semilla, no tener que dar cuentas a nadie de lo que se estaba gestando en su interior, y poder demostrarle al mundo su viente germinado sin exponerse al rechazo de la sociedad

A Tita le encantaría ser una simple semilla, no tener que dar cuentas a nadie de lo que se estaba gestando en su interior, y poder mostrarle al mundo su vientre germinado sin exponerse al rechazo de la sociedad. Las semillas no tenían este tipo de problemas, sobre todo, no tenían madre a la que temer, ni miedo a que las enjuiciaran.

You and I We do not talk anymore And all our asterisks Are turning Into flowers.

Romeo and Juliet are not relationship goals.

Was it so wrong to want to make my own choices, even if they were the wrong ones? I already had Lola Flor and the rest of my family telling me what to do, I didn’t need my romantic partner doing the same.

almost said “just friends,” as if romantic partnership was superior to platonic friendship, but stopped myself. Adeena hated that term and idea. And I’d learned, time and again, she was right. There was no hierarchy to love.

Anna?" Someone knocks on my door, and it startles me out of my seat. No.Not someone. St. Clair. I'm wearing an old Mayfield Dairy T-shirt, complete with yellow-and-brown cow logo,and hot pink flannel pajama bottoms covered in giant strawberries. I am not even wearing a bra. "Anna,I know you're in there. I can see your light." "Hold on a sec!" I blurt. "I'll be right there." I grab my black hoodie and zip it up over the cow's face before wrenching open the door. "Hisorryaboutthat. Come in." I open the door wide but he stands there for a moment, just staring at me. I can't read the expression on his face. Then he breaks into a mischievous smile and brushes past me. "Nice strawberries." "Shut up." "No,I mean it. Cute." And even though he doesn't mean it like I-want-to-leave-my-girlfriend-and-start-dating-you cute,something flickers inside of me. The "force of strength and destruction" Tita de la Garza knew so well.St. Clair stands in the center of my room.He scratches his head, and his T-shirt lifts up on one side, exposing a slice of bare stomach. Foomp! My inner fire ignites. "It's really...er...clean," he says. Fizz. Flames extinguished.

Most satyrs excel at running away. Gleeson Hedge, however, was not most satyrs. He grabbed a barrel brush from his cart, yelled, "DIE!" and charged the three-hundred-pound manager. Even the automatons were too surprised to react, which probably saved Hedge's life. I grabbed the satyr's collar and dragged him backwards as the employees' first shots went wild, a barrage of bright orange discount stickers flying over our heads. I pulled Hedge down the aisle as he launched a fierce kick, overturning his shopping trolley at our enemies' feet. Another discount sticker grazed my arm with the force of an angry Titaness's slap. "Careful!" Macro yelled at his men. "I need Apollo in one piece, not half-off!

There truly was a separate stomach for sweets.

the group of fiftysomething-year-old women I privately referred to as “the Calendar Crew.” Their names were April, Mae, and June

¡Con permiso! … Ah, y le sugiero que para la próxima vez que se enamore, ¡no sea tan cobarde! Tita,

Tita, por su parte, se encargó de enseñarle algo igual de valioso: los secretos de la vida y del amor a través de la cocina.

And thus, the Titans & titanesses made love without passion And so did the Gods & Goddesses. They only had Longing[Pothos], Love[Eros] & Reciprocal Love[Anteros] between them, but no Passion. And this fact accounted for the unimaginative number of offspring that some of them had. And the unimaginative tendency of Gods & Goddesses to take aunts & uncles, sons & daughters & even granddads & grandmas to wife or to husband. So much so that some Gods & Goddesses preferred to produce offspring asexually, even without Love. As Hera begot Hephaestus.

To my family, who’ve always encouraged me to go after my not-Asian-approved career choice of writing. Especially you, Mommy—you introduced me to the world of mysteries and shared your love of culinary cozies with me. This whole series is for you. Daddy, I will never bring the care and attention to cooking that you always did, but I hope you tasted the love all the same. I miss you so much, but I hope I did you proud.

I could ignore my godmothers’ first two comments—while being told you looked like a witch would bother most people, I considered it a compliment. I loved natural remedies, dark color palettes, and made bewitchingly delicious baked goods, so I’d learned to lean into the bruha image.

It was more like an encounter with grace. Tita faced crushing poverty without being crushed. As a reporter in the States, I had tried to understand what kept people from seizing opportunity in a society of plenty. As a reporter in Leveriza, I tried to understand how people seized opportunity where it scarcely existed.

Que baile, que ría, que nada le impida galopar hasta la locura, que los ladridos de los perros no detengan su andar, que nunca tenga que elegir entre amar o vivir.

Si primero es lo primero, el amor va antes que nada. Y si primero es el deber y luego el placer, amar es nuestro deber y placer. No hay nada antes ni más allá que el amor.

Bir tek gerçek vardır, o da gerçek diye bir şey olmadığıdır! Gerçek, herkesin baktığı noktaya göre değişir.

He wanted to ruin you,” she said. “That’s how I knew he wasn’t over you. And why I thought you were the one that killed him.

You're more than your work... More than whatever contributions you think you're supposed to be making. More than whoever people think you're supposed to be.

Besides, I hate seeing someone unsatisfied with their food. It means they’re going unnurtured. Unfed.

Don’t get it twisted. You’re still pretentious and full of yourself. But you’re not like, a bad person or anything. And you are not the reason Janet’s in a hospital bed. So stop pitying yourself and figure out who put her there.

No le fue fácil meter en la maleta el dia en que hicieron su primera cumunión las tres juntas.La vela, el libro y la foto afuera de la iglesia cupieron muy bien, pero no así el sabor de los tamales y del atole que nacha les había preparado y que habían comido después en compañia de sus amigos y familiares. Cupieron los huesitos de chabacano de colores, pero no así las risas cuando jugaban con ellos en el patio de la escuela, ni la maestra Jovita, ni el columpio, ni el olor de su recámara, ni el del chocolate recién batido. Lo bueno es que tampoco cupieron las palizas, los regaños de Mamá Elena, pues Tita cerró muy fuerte la maleta antes de que se fueran a colar.

FOOD Adobo (uh-doh-boh)---Considered the Philippines's national dish, it's any food cooked with soy sauce, vinegar, garlic, and black peppercorns (though there are many regional and personal variations) Almondigas (ahl-mohn-dee-gahs)---Filipino soup with meatballs and thin rice noodles Baon (bah-ohn)---Food, snacks and other provisions brought on to work, school, or on a trip; food brought from home; money or allowance brought to school or work; lunch money (definition from Tagalog.com) Embutido (ehm-puh-tee-doh)---Filipino meatloaf Ginataang (gih-nih-tahng)---Any dish cooked with coconut milk, sweet or savory Kakanin (kah-kah-nin)---Sweet sticky cakes made from glutinous rice or root crops like cassava (There's a huge variety, many of them regional) Kesong puti (keh-sohng poo-tih)---A kind of salty cheese Lengua de gato (lehng-gwah deh gah-toh)---Filipino butter cookies Lumpia (loom-pyah)---Filipino spring rolls (many variations) Lumpiang sariwa (loom-pyahng sah-ree-wah)---Fresh Filipino spring rolls (not fried) Mamón (mah-MOHN)---Filipino sponge/chiffon cake Matamis na bao (mah-tah-mees nah bah-oh)---Coconut jam Meryenda (mehr-yehn-dah)---Snack/snack time Pandesal (pahn deh sahl)---Lightly sweetened Filipino rolls topped with breadcrumbs (also written pan de sal) Patis (pah-tees)---Fish sauce Salabat (sah-lah-baht)---Filipino ginger tea Suman (soo-mahn)---Glutinous rice cooked in coconut milk, wrapped in banana leaves, and steamed (though there are regional variations) Ube (oo-beh)---Purple yam

But on the minus side, Zeus had also had his share of fiascos. He swallowed Metis, the Goddess of Wisdom & Prudence, & thus was responsible for the disappearance of both wisdom & prudence in Olympus. And he could not keep his hands off all those lovely Titanesses, Giantesses, Nymphs & Mortal women whom he loved or secretly loved. He took them to wife, even when they were unwilling, such as Metis, Leto, Asteria & Nemesis. And he raped them, even when they were not aware that they were being raped, such as Alcmene, Danae, Io & Europa. And these were only a few of his many love affairs that Hera knew. What he had managed to keep secret from Hera was his greatest love affair of all- his affair with the Goddess of Love, which had already resulted in the mis-begetting of the monstrous love-child, Priapus.

Bibingka had a soft and spongy texture, like a chiffon cake, but with a flavor all its own. Modern bibingka was simply baked in an oven, but it's traditionally grilled using charcoal. Lola Flor had a grill behind the restaurant that she used for occasions like this, and her bibingka was miles ahead of any other version I'd tried. My sweet tooth preferred the simplicity of the sugar-topped ones, but the complexity of the salted duck eggs against the other ingredients made me keep reaching for another piece.

And that... that just broke me. Because while I didn't agree with her idea of what a mother's love was, I couldn't deny that for both her and my mom, that was absolutely how they showed their love. That's what their love amounted to. My mother had loved in the way that she knew how. It had never felt like enough. But maybe I needed to either let people love me in the limited way they could or learn to ask for what I needed out of a relationship. And if they couldn't provide it... maybe I needed to learn to move on.

Civil engineers go where their work is needed. Chicago is my goal because it's the biggest challenge, and could really use this kind of change. But Shady Palms isn't perfect. I mean, it was here that I noticed which areas get the benefits of the town's services. Working in Chicago is my dream, but Shady Palms is my home. I want to make Shady Palms the safest and most equal place possible." "By overseeing construction projects?" Beth didn't bother to keep the mocking tone out of her voice, which made the other girls in the group snicker, but it didn't seem to affect Joy. Her earnestness shone through as she said, "You work for the Thompsons and are a member of their family. You know that construction projects are political---both in who gets them and which areas benefit from them.

Büyükannemin ilginç bir teorisi vardı: Hepimiz içimizde bir kutu kibritle doğarız. Ama tek başımıza bunu yakamayız. Deneyde görüldüğü gibi oksijene ve mum alevine ihtiyacımız vardır. Örneğin, oksijen, sevdiğiniz insanın nefesinden gelebilir. Mum aleviyse güzel bir yemek,müzik, okşamalar ya da güzel sözlerdir. Bunlarda biri patlamaya neden olur ve içimizdeki kibritlerin birini yakar. Bir an yoğun bir heyecan hissederiz. İçimizde çok hoş bir sıcaklık yayılır. Bu sıcaklık zamanla yavaş yavaş yok olur. Sonra yeni bir patlama olur ve içimizde bir kibrit daha yanar. Bu duyguyu yaşamak isteyen herkes kendi içindeki patlayıcıları keşfetmek zorundadır. Bunlar yanarak ruhumuzun beslenmesine yardımcı olur. Yani başka türlü söylersek, bu yanma ruhumuza enerji verir. Bir kişi kendi tutuşturucularını zaman içinde keşfedemezse, içindeki kibritler nemlenir, hiçbir şekilde yanmaz olur. O zaman ruhumuz bedenimizi terk eder. Karanlıkların içinde el yordamıyla boş yere kendisine besin arar. Ona besi sağlayacak tek kaynağın terk ettiği, soğuktan titreyen o vücutta olduğunu bilmez.

FOOD Adobo (uh-doh-boh)--- Considered the Philippines' national dish, it's any food cooked with soy sauce, vinegar, garlic, and black peppercorns (though there are many regional and personal variations) Bibingka (bih-bing-kah)--- Lightly sweetened rice cake, commonly consumed around Christmas. There are many varieties, but the most common is baked or grilled in a banana leaf-lined mold and topped with sliced duck eggs, butter, sugar, and/or coconut. Buko (boo-koh)--- Young coconut Champorado (chahm-puh-rah-doh)--- Sweet chocolate rice porridge Lambanog (lahm-bah-nohg)--- Filipino coconut liquor Lumpia (loom-pyah)--- Filipino spring rolls (many variations) Matamis na bao (mah-tah-mees nah bah-oh)--- Coconut jam (also known as minatamis na bao) Pandan (pahn-dahn)--- Tropical plant whose fragrant leaves are commonly used as a flavoring in Southeast Asia. Often described as a grassy vanilla flavor with a hint of coconut. Pandesal (pahn deh sahl)--- Lightly sweetened Filipino rolls topped with breadcrumbs (also written pan de sal) Patis (pah-tees)--- Fish sauce Pinipig (pih-nee-pig)--- Young glutinous rice that's been pounded flat, then toasted. Looks similar to Rice Krispies. Salabat (sah-lah-baht)--- Filipino ginger tea Tuyo (too-yoh)--- Dried, salted fish (usually herring) Ube (oo-beh)--- Purple yam

There’s a tap on my shoulder. I turn around and get lost in a sea of blue. A Jersey-accented voice says, “It’s about time, kid,” and Frank Sinatra rattles the ice in his glass of Jack Daniel’s. Looking at the swirling deep-brown liquid, he whispers, “Ain’t it beautiful?” This is my introduction to the Chairman of the Board. We spend the next half hour talking Jersey, Hoboken, swimming in the Hudson River and the Shore. We then sit down for dinner at a table with Robert De Niro, Angie Dickinson and Frank and his wife, Barbara. This is all occurring at the Hollywood “Guinea Party” Patti and I have been invited to, courtesy of Tita Cahn. Patti had met Tita a few weeks previous at the nail parlor. She’s the wife of Sammy Cahn, famous for such songs as “All The Way,” “Teach Me Tonight” and “Only the Lonely.” She called one afternoon and told us she was hosting a private event. She said it would be very quiet and couldn’t tell us who would be there, but assured us we’d be very comfortable. So off into the LA night we went. During the evening, we befriend the Sinatras and are quietly invited into the circle of the last of the old Hollywood stars. Over the next several years we attend a few very private events where Frank and the remaining clan hold forth. The only other musician in the room is often Quincy Jones, and besides Patti and I there is rarely a rocker in sight. The Sinatras are gracious hosts and our acquaintance culminates in our being invited to Frank’s eightieth birthday party dinner. It’s a sedate event at the Sinatras’ Los Angeles home. Sometime after dinner, we find ourselves around the living room piano with Steve and Eydie Gorme and Bob Dylan. Steve is playing the piano and up close he and Eydie can really sing the great standards. Patti has been thoroughly schooled in jazz by Jerry Coker, one of the great jazz educators at the Frost School of Music at the University of Miami. She was there at the same time as Bruce Hornsby, Jaco Pastorius and Pat Metheny, and she learned her stuff. At Frank’s, as the music drifts on, she slips gently in on “My One and Only Love.” Patti is a secret weapon. She can sing torch like a cross between Peggy Lee and Julie London (I’m not kidding). Eydie Gorme hears Patti, stops the music and says, “Frank, come over here. We’ve got a singer!” Frank moves to the piano and I then get to watch my wife beautifully serenade Frank Sinatra and Bob Dylan, to be met by a torrent of applause when she’s finished. The next day we play Frank’s eightieth birthday celebration for ABC TV and I get to escort him to the stage along with Tony Bennett. It’s a beautiful evening and a fitting celebration for the greatest pop singer of all time. Two years later Frank passed away and we were generously invited to his funeral. A

...during her childhood Tita didn't distinguish between tears of laughter and tears of sorrow. For her, laughing was a form of crying.

Siento que dejé pasar el amor. Que no lo cuidé. No lo podé. No le quité las hojas muertas. Lo vi nacer, crecer y dar un bello fruto que no tuve la precaución de cuidar para que se reprodujera para siempre. No, lo dejé caer en la tierra y permití que se pudriera.

أراكي في كل شئ حولي دون انقطاع ولكن لم اري نفسي كما رأيتك !!

I know you mean well,” Tita Ami says, “but you should not have done that.” “Why?” I ask. A moment later, two boys—just as young and dirty and hungry-looking as the girl—approach and start knocking on the glass with their knuckles. Their knocking is more insistent, their pleas more demanding. “They are like ants,” Tita Ami explains. “You will never get rid of them all.

I am sad because they’re in a far place,” Tita said. Emet was especially susceptible to nostalgia for the bad old days in the slums. “I was happier then, because I was with my children.” One reason Rosalie had left Lara behind was that she felt her parents needed children to love.

Palimos?” I hear her say through the glass. “Palimos?” “Do not worry, Jay,” Tita Ami says, “she cannot see you. The windows are too dark.” I think of Jun, of all his letters I left unanswered. All his words that mourned how people ignored those in need.

That seems like a lot of work,” I say. “Wouldn’t it have been easier to move into a new house?” She stops short and glares at me. “This is where we have always lived. This is our home. We try to improve it, not abandon it.” The last time my family visited, she and Tito Maning kept making passive-aggressive comments like this about Dad in front of everyone. Though Tita Chato would defend him, he never called them out on it. He’d just look down like a dog that’s been reminded of its place in the pack as the third-born. As a little kid, I didn’t know what was going on between them and nobody bothered to tell me. It was only later, from Jun’s letters, that I came to understand how they resented Dad for leaving.

my Filipino titas and titos laughed. Not in a mean way, I think, but more like it was amusing that a dog’s death affected me so much because it was nothing to them. Another day. Another dog. My cousins did not need to have someone stroke their hair and reassure them that death was part of life.

Hekate, the third of this group, was always closest to us—although her name perhaps means “the Distant One”. It is not only her name that links her with Apollon and Artemis, who are also named Hekatos and Hekate, but also her family origin—if Hesiod is right in his account of it. She is elsewhere supposed to have been one of the Daughters of Night.{58} Hesiod, however, gives us the following genealogy:{59} the Titan couple Phoebe and Koios had two daughters: Leto, the mother of Apollon and Artemis, and Asteria, a star-goddess who bore Hekate to Persaios or Perses, the son of Eurybia. Hekate is therefore the cousin of Apollon and Artemis, and at the same time a reappearance of the great goddess Phoibe, whose name poets often give to the moon. Indeed, Hekate used to appear to us carrying her torch as the Moon-Goddess, whereas Artemis, although she, too, sometimes carries a torch, never did so. Hesiod seeks further to distinguish Hekate from Artemis by repeatedly emphasising that the former is monogenes, “an only child”. In this respect, too, Hekate resembled Persephone, the goddess of the Underworld. For the rest, she was an almighty, threefold goddess. Zeus revered her above all others,{60} and let her have her share of the earth, the sea and the starry sky; or rather, he did not deprive her of this threefold honour, which she had previously enjoyed under the earlier gods, the Titans, but let her retain what had been awarded to her at the first distribution of honours and dignities. She was therefore a true Titaness of the Titans, even though this is never expressly stated.

Dear diary, I'm afraid I'm gravely ill. It is perhaps times like these that one reflects on things past. An article of clothing from when I was young. A green jacket. I walk with my father. A game we once played. Pretend we're faeries. I'm a girl faerie. My name is Laura Lee. And you're a boy faerie. Your name is Tita Lee. Pretend, when we're faeries we fight each other, and I say "Stop hitting me I'll die!" And you hit me again and I say, "Now I have to die." And then you say, "But I'll miss you." And I say, "But I have to. And you'll have to wait a million years to see me again. And I'll be put in a box, and all I'll need is a tiny glass of water and lots of tiny pieces of pizza and the box will have wings like an airplane." And you'll ask, "Where will it take you?" "Home." I say. — Sadie Goldstein [Olive] Synecdoche, New York (2008)

Dear diary, I'm afraid I'm gravely ill. It is perhaps times like these that one reflects on things past. An article of clothing from when I was young. A green jacket. I walk with my father. A game we once played. Pretend we're faeries. I'm a girl faerie. My name is Laura Lee. And you're a boy faerie. Your name is Tita Lee. Pretend, when we're faeries we fight each other, and I say "Stop hitting me I'll die!" And you hit me again and I say, "Now I have to die." And then you say, "But I'll miss you." And I say, "But I have to. And you'll have to wait a million years to see me again. And I'll be put in a box, and all I'll need is a tiny glass of water and lots of tiny pieces of pizza and the box will have wings like an airplane." And you'll ask, "Where will it take you?" "Home." I say. — Sadie Goldstein [Olive] Synecdoche, New York (2008)

I almost said “just friends,” as if romantic partnership was superior to platonic friendship, but stopped myself. Adeena hated that term and idea. And I’d learned, time and again, she was right.

In typical Filipino fashion, my aunt expressed her love not through words of encouragement or affectionate embraces, but through food. Food was how she communicated. Food was how she found her place in the world. When someone rejected her food, they were really rejecting her heart. It crushed her.

I hate seeing someone unsatisfied with their food. It means they’re going unnurtured. Unfed.

People are all imitations of monkeys Gods are all imitations of humans

You act like I’m gunning for you. Just because I don’t tell you who or what I’m investigating doesn’t mean that I’m twiddling my thumbs while I sit on my ass at the station. I don’t need to clear my actions with you. I go where the evidence points me.

The number one stupidest thing I’d ever done in my life? I’d stayed with him after that whole mess. It had taken his cheating for me to finally realize how terrible he was and cut him loose.

But before coming here, he worked Vice. Busting up drug rings was how he made his name back in Chicago. It’s starting to feel like a personal vendetta against you, Lila. He thinks you’re messing things up in his quiet little town.

Derek had turned informant for me. His suppliers were the ones I wanted, and the big-time distributors as well. He was trying to get out of that life, but was afraid of what would happen to him and his mom. We were trying to take them down little by little so they wouldn’t get wise to him. And then a mere two weeks before we were supposed to do our big bust, Derek gets murdered. You don’t find that suspicious?

Hey isn’t it weird that my ex is dead, your fiancée is in a coma, both of them were possibly involved in the drug trade, and now I’m being accused of murder, assault, and drug trafficking? Wild, right?

And I hope you find out who is so obviously trying to put my clients out of business that they’re willing to not only trash their restaurant, but also frame one of them for murder.

Two Mexican boys from Cicero beating up a White boy from Shady Palms? How you think that’d go for them?

My mind swirled with questions at this revelation. Was the person who stabbed Mr. Long the same one who poisoned Derek? Bludgeoned Janet in her office? Vandalized our restaurant? How many would-be killers and criminals were running around quiet little Shady Palms? And if the Long family was being targeted, did that mean Mrs. Long was next?

Oh my God, are you serious right now? Why does everyone accuse me of running away?! Why can’t you all accept that I’m just trying to do what’s best for me?” Adeena gave me a pitying look. “How long you going to keep lying to yourself?

That was my sister, Jo. She’d worked so hard to get clean, and once she got her life together, she moved here to Shady Palms to start over. But then she met Derek. And he got her using again. Using and selling, actually. This place was their base of operations. After she died, I moved down here to find out what happened to her. She left me this place, so I took it over to learn more.

Derek knew she was a recovering addict, but he didn’t care. They killed her. They may not have pulled the trigger, but they sure as hell gave her the gun. And they got what they deserved.

You don’t know that. What if he was suffocating while I yelled at him? All because I thought it was a joke? What if there was food blocking his airway and I could’ve done something to clear it before Ninang June took over? What if my actions were the only things between Derek living and dying?

I told him, yes, Lila and Derek had a fight before he died, but everybody fought with Derek. Many people didn’t like him, such a difficult young man. God rest his soul,

Jonathan, I have a business to run. How can I pay my bills if we’re closed that long? I just got a shipment of fresh produce. What am I supposed to do with it?

Too soft to go after her estranged, alcoholic husband who’d run off with most of her savings. Too soft to ask her son Ronnie, my good-for-nothing cousin, for help—he was a boy, therefore free to live his own life. Not to say that the rest of the family never lobbed guilt his way—he just managed to dodge it while I took nothing but direct hits.

Detective, this is outrageous. You’re grasping at straws trying to paint my client as some drug kingpin, but you have no proof.” Amir put his hand on my shoulder. “If you’re done insulting Ms. Macapagal and wasting our time, we’d like to leave now.

She’s pretty old-school, but my dad stepped in before it became an issue. As a compromise, I moved to a building that’s only five minutes away. I let them think I was making a big sacrifice, but I do like being closer to them in case of emergency. I just don’t need to, you know, actually live in the same place.

When I grabbed the untouched bowl of ginataang bilo-bilo, Derek stopped me. "I haven't tried this yet. I can't write a full review if I don't taste everything on offer." I shrugged and slid it in front of him. "Knock yourself out. It's one of my favorite cold-weather treats, so I hope you enjoy it." Usually consumed for breakfast or at snack time for meryenda, it had all the comfort of a warm bowl of oatmeal but enough sweetness to qualify as dessert. While it wasn't the most Instagram-worthy dish, the various textures of soft and chewy with a bit of bite, combined with the sweet creaminess of the thickened coconut milk and my lola's deft touch made it the Filipino culinary equivalent of hygge. Pure coziness and warmth in a bowl.

I hustled back to the kitchen to prepare some salabat. The hot ginger tea would cure anything that ailed you, and I'd made a few modifications to boost the flavor and health profile. I set the electric kettle and pulled out the jar of ginger, turmeric, honey, cayenne, and calamansi, the last ingredient adding a refreshing hit of citrus tang.

Hey bruha, about time you came to visit me. You been with Tita Rosie for what, two or three months now? And you're only coming around now that you need me for something?" She made a noise with her lips and gestured to Amir. "Even Mr. Big-Time Lawyer here knows how to make time for his family. What's your excuse?" I pasted a smile on my face as I screamed on the inside. "Missed you too, Ate Bernie. And in case no one told you, I've been busy helping Tita Rosie and Lola Flor run the restaurant. Maybe if your ex-boyfriend stopped being trash and came to help his mom, I'd have more free time.

So that's why you're here. You're trying to help out Tita Rosie." I looked her in the eye. "Just because I left doesn't mean I was never there for my family. We all help in whatever way we can. Not all the Macapagal kids are deadbeats.

A pound of butter and Lord knows how much sugar later, my head was clear, my spirit was calm, and I had a delicious calamansi-ginger pie cooling on the counter. I twisted shut the lid of the jar I'd filled with the excess calamansi-ginger curd and sighed in satisfaction. Now this was bliss. The sweetness of the coconut shortbread crust scented the air, interspersed with the zest of citrus and zing of ginger. If I could bottle this scent, I'd wear it forever.

My chubby dachshund, Longganisa, pranced around my feet, waiting for her share of my experiment. I tossed her a bit of the crust I'd trimmed off and waited for her reaction. Nisa was always my first critic. If it didn't pass muster with her, it was a no go. She snapped up the shortbread in record time and got up on her hind legs, begging for more. A good sign for me, but disappointment for her. "Sorry, baby, you know you can't have more than that. It's not good for you." I poured out some of her diet kibble and set it in front of her. She looked down at her bowl, then up at me, and I swear, if a dog could raise an eyebrow in disgust, she would've. Go figure I'd pass my food snobbery on to my dog.

I handed her one of the little chiffon cakes, the top slathered in butter and sugar, and helped myself to one of the cheese-topped mamón. I tore it in half and a faint curl of steam rose up, as well as the smell of sweet butter and the sharp tinge of cheddar.

I've never known anyone with the capacity for sugar that Adeena has. She'd demolished her waffles, which she'd drowned in syrup, and then ordered a slice of triple chocolate tuxedo pie, another sugar bomb. If I ate the way she'd did, I'd have lost a foot to diabetes by now. Martha slid our desserts in front of us, and Adeena and I hummed in appreciation after taking our first bites. The lemon icebox cake was cold and creamy, with a background sweetness and a whole lot of tang. As I often did when sampling delicious desserts, I tried to deconstruct what was in it. Graham crackers, cream cheese, whipped cream, and a ton of lemon curd seemed to be the basis of the recipe. Similar to the ginger calamansi pie I'd made, but simpler and no-bake, if I decided to buy the graham crackers instead of making my own. Definitely worth experimenting with, as I had a jar of calamansi curd tucked away in the fridge just begging to be used. I made a note on my phone later, maybe as a summer offering. As per usual when eating out, Adeena and I swapped plates so we could taste each other's desserts. "What do you think, girls?" I grinned at Martha. "Delicious. I love how the lemon cake is sweet and tangy, but you don't go too far in either direction." Adeena added, "It's the perfect counterpoint to my chocolate pie, which is divine, by the way. Rich, creamy, and so satisfying.

So for the first course, we have flounder sashimi served with green onions and momiji oroshi, or daikon radish with chili pepper." The fish was delicate and subtle, with a nice, firm texture. What followed after this opening course was an onslaught of fantastic nigiri, small balls of pressed sushi rice with various toppings, served two at a time so I could fully appreciate each perfect morsel. Sea bream was followed by sweet shrimp, tamago, yellowtail, salmon, soy sauce-braised octopus, crab, grilled eel, and the final two pieces were otoro, or tuna belly. The richest, fattest, most melt-in-your-mouth pieces of tuna I'd ever had.

Lola Flor pointed to the suman, saying, "Sweet sticky rice cooked in coconut milk and steamed in banana leaves. The banana leaves give the rice its distinctive flavor. They're garnished with latik. Caramelized coconut curds," she added at Derek's confused look. "In the bowl is ginataang bilo-bilo. Chewy rice balls, tapioca pearls, jackfruit, purple yam, and saba banana cooked in sweet coconut milk. The best thing to eat on a cold day like this.