Note that label doesn’t read Miami, as in the city (which I’ve never been to but heard is quite lovely and lively); it reads “MiaMi,” which only special little people get to call me.
Mamoun’s
My people, gaze upon the homemade chocolate-avocado pudding gloriousness my youngest niece (she’s ten) made just for me. My people, this is how I am loved.
We do food truck.
Dinner, prepped by Honored Older Sister.
All mine. MINE.
Exactly what it says: *divine*.
My sister-in-law’s dumpling soup.
Dinner, because lunch was heavy. Possibly also breakfast tomorrow.
The homesick series: Ensaymada.
