Araceli's Story: A Good Man is Hard to Find
¡Nena, ven aquí!” my father said in his best Puerto Rican jíbaro accent calling me into the kitchen. He had not ordered me to clean but tested my cooking skills. When my mother and I are in the kitchen, chopping onions usually turns into a shouting match. My father however has the utmost patience to instruct his eldest clumsy-novice-only-good-at-making-Ramen-soup-daughter (that’s me) in the kitchen.
“Okay, so you’re gonna make the arroz con gandules,” said my father. “I’ll let you know when you mess up," he added as I reached for the vegetable oil. Read more here.
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