We walked the noisy streets of Iloilo, eating cheap hamburgers, Banana-cues, and Mangos, knowing a plane was waiting to take us back. But had we not had those miles between us, had their lives not been so different and mysterious to me, had our paths not continue to diverge further and further over the years, had there been less pain in our parting, perhaps we would have enjoyed those humid months a lot less. It was in these moments of realization that I had the best mangos.
And the misadventures of growing up in Saudi Arabia pt. 1
I remember the first time I hadKinilaw (kee-knee-lau…not the “law” in “lawyer”), Filipino cured seafood similar to the more well-known ceviche. It was a weeknight back in Saudi Arabia and my mom was hit with one of those rare nights of laziness so we bought… Read More
I usually skip the baking section of most food magazines. Pies with flaky crusts, light and airy cakes topped with glazed fruits, rich and buttery cookies, macarons made exclusively for well-lit Instagram photos, mocking me with their all-knowing glossy stare: “You can’t bake for shit”.… Read More
Early Spring is now a season I really look forward to with its promises of patio brunches, beautiful people watching, and the ability to wear something more flattering than a poofy jacket paired with chapped skin. But Spring during my college years wasn’t as…”Spring-y”. Most student… Read More
The Errant Diner 