![]() I’d help him and my mother cook Filipino delicacies, like chicken adobo, pansit, and lumpia. ![]() Once a month, my Filipino grandfather, or tata, would also pay us visits from San Francisco. ![]() ![]() We both knew that we’d be eating caldo de res con arroz Mexicano. When my mother called him in for lunch, he’d start whistling, as Linda Ronstadt’s Canciones de mi Padre echoed from the house. Growing up in San Diego, I remember watching my abuelito tend the guava tree he grew for my mother, while singing along to the Mexican rancheras that blared from his tiny radio in the backyard.
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