I closed my eyes, picturing myself at this kitchen table, the fragrant chicken piled on top of a steaming bowl of white rice, a tiny dribble of dark sauce squiggled across.
I smiled and opened my eyes. Garlic. Of course.
I whisked the marinade together and added the chicken legs, then put it all back in the fridge to marinate for a couple of hours. I washed my hands and prepared a bowl of halo-halo to enjoy while waiting for the chicken to be ready.
As I took my first icy bite, ideas for more recipes popped into my head.
Halo-halo ice candy! That would be my signature ice pop at the Brew-ha Cafe.
But what if I got even more experimental with the format? Halo-halo donuts! And cupcakes! And cookies!
Maybe even a halo-halo-inspired chia parfait for health nuts like Elena and Sana. I’d seen Sana eating chia pudding topped with fruit yesterday and it was so pretty, I knew it’d do well on our menu.
I grabbed my bujo to scribble all these ideas down, jumping up a few times to see what ingredients we had in stock. I didn’t have the right plastic bags or donut trays, so the halo-halo ice candy and donuts would have to wait. Cookies were my go-to, but I couldn’t figure out a flavor combination that would bake well in cookie form. Too much moisture. I tabled that recipe for now, figuring I’d come back to it after letting the idea percolate. Halo-halo cupcakes would be a little labor-intensive, but I did have a few hours to kill while the chicken marinated . . .
While I filled page after page with my ideas, my phone buzzed again. Thinking it was Adeena calling to curse me out for ignoring her, I answered without checking the screen. “Before you scream at me, I can explain.”
“Uh . . . I wasn’t going to scream at you. I was just calling to see if you still wanted to go out for dinner tonight. My brother told me what happened earlier. Are you OK?”
It was Jae. I groaned and leaned back in my chair. I forgot that I’d also had plans with him. “I’m so sorry, Jae, I thought you were Adeena. I was supposed to meet her and Elena at the cafe earlier, but yeah. Guess your brother told you.”
“He sure did. And it’s fine, I let them know what had happened when I stopped by for coffee. They’re not angry, just worried. If you’re not up for going out, I can swing by with takeout. Or if you don’t want company, I can just drop off the tea blend that Elena prepared for you. Whatever you need.”
Whatever I needed . . . how sad that this simple gesture of friendship was sweeter than any romantic overture I’d received in the past. Derek, my old high school sweetheart, was a bit of a bro and we often ended up just hanging out with friends or watching sports. Sam, my ex-fiancé, was a little rich boy and I’d often go along with whatever he wanted since I didn’t want him to think I didn’t belong in his world. Even Amir, a close friend and one of the best men in the world, was so used to thinking he knew best that his “suggestions” were really pronouncements. He was smart and conscientious, so he was often right, but I chafed at the lack of agency. Was it so wrong to want to make my own choices, even if they were the wrong ones? I already had Lola Flor and the rest of my family telling me what to do, I didn’t need my romantic partner doing the same.
“Actually, I could do with a bit of company. I’ve got some chicken marinating in the fridge and a new cupcake recipe I’m working on. Care to be my guinea pig?”
“Absolutely! Let me just shower real quick and I’ll be right over. I have this awesome coconut porter I want you to try, but is there anything else you want me to pick up?”
I told him to bring some of Adeena’s cold brew to enjoy with the cupcakes and hung up with a smile. Time to get to work.
I started with a simple white cake base, added a bit of custard powder to echo the leche flan flavor, and mixed in well-drained sweet red beans, macapuno, and jackfruit. Scooped the mixture into lined cupcake tins and slid them into a 350-degree oven.
Now on to the frosting. As I whipped up the condensed milk frosting, adding a teaspoon of ube extract for flavor and that gorgeous violet color, my mind wandered back to the case. I loved baking because the simple, rhythmic movements put me in a meditative state, and I found that my best thinking occurred when mixing up cookie dough or rolling out scones.
My initial instincts were that the killer had to be a man or a fit woman like Sana or Beth since they needed to be stronger than Rob to hold him underwater long enough to drown. But Detective Park had said Rob was not only drunk, he had a head wound. One of those alone would’ve weakened Rob, but together? Valerie had mobility issues, but that didn’t affect her upper-body strength. Even someone as slight as Joy might’ve been able to pull it off.