Arsenic and Adobo (Tita Rosie's Kitchen Mystery, #1)

by Mia P. Manansala

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

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.

Waffles were her desert island food—as long as you switched up the flavor or toppings once in a while, she could easily eat nothing but waffles for the rest of her life.

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. There was no hierarchy to love.

Romeo and Juliet are not relationship goals.