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“The rich smells of long-simmered chicken, onion, and garlic curled around us, and Nicole hummed with every mouthful. Ten seconds later, my stomach hissed in protest. "Can I taste it?" Nicole pulled out a second spoon from under the placemat. From the first spoonful, the warmth of the rice porridge soaked into my bones. It was care in a bowl, and the tears that surged up almost choked me. "Ellie?" Her voice was as cozy and comforting as the stew. No, I was tired of crying. "I like the ginger and the citrus in this," I managed. She smiled. "Exactly. It's got to have the calamansi lime juice in it to make everything else sing. But Nanay swears it's all about the chicken.” — Sarah Chamberlain
The rich smells of long-simmered chicken, onion, and garlic curled around us, and Nicole hummed with every mouthful. Ten seconds later, my stomach hissed in protest. "Can I taste it?"
Nicole pulled out a second spoon from under the placemat.
From the first spoonful, the warmth of the rice porridge soaked into my bones. It was care in a bowl, and the tears that surged up almost choked me.
"Ellie?" Her voice was as cozy and comforting as the stew.
No, I was tired of crying. "I like the ginger and the citrus in this," I managed.
She smiled. "Exactly. It's got to have the calamansi lime juice in it to make everything else sing. But Nanay swears it's all about the chicken.