The Cycle of Life and Art: A Close Reading

All images courtesy of Mei-Mei Mijares and Niko Mendoza.

Recipe for a Beautiful Friendship 
By Mei-Mei Mijares and Niko Mendoza

Take 2 eldest daughters 

Make sure one is 
small-ER
the other is 
tall-ER

Steep them in responsibility—
Muddle under expectation
Tie sprigs of self-sacrifice with twine
Smoke in wood chips shaped 
like book pages, 
flavored with imagination
Arm them with brushes,
pens 
and ladles

Tenderize with tears for 
any emotion above a level 5 spice
Mix them at a fundraiser 
and jump for joy for EXACTLY 5 seconds

Sprinkle in 
cooking
picnics
painting and writing dates 

brimming with giggles off walls

Add a dash of sleepovers
ugly sobbing through k-dramas
Add a splash of vinegar 
to temper the saltiness of life, 
(and cause we're pilipino)
Bake at 350
Like all the best sweet things

like our own tsinelas at each other's houses, 
like sharing directly from our plates
like trading the same filled Tupperware forever

Serve with steaming mugs of tea
Over conversations in broken Tagalog but still fluent in familial tongues 
“Are you hungry?”|
“Did you eat yet?”
Speak love like our parents, in actions

Let's make 
Adobo, sinigang, bibimbap, arroz caldo
“Niko, kain tayo” 

“Mei, Relax! Don't wash those dishes”
The dishes are washed anyway


Recipe for a Beautiful Friendship was written by us for a Pho-etry workshop we did with Nevada Humanities last year. It tells the epic tale of our blossoming friendship that started in 2022 but really felt like uncovering a bulb of sisterhood that had been growing all along (Mei-Mei personally thinks that’s a little cheesy, but she also loves dairy). It truly was an intuitive recipe in the making, like the ones our parents struggle to pass down because they never use measuring instruments.

As eldest daughters in Filipino families, we were expected to be babysitters, cooks, cleaners, and academic extraordinaires at young ages—resulting in us aggressively and intentionally exploring whimsy later in life, where Niko paints angry cats and Mei-Mei impersonates her dad admonishing her for yapping too much. We are playing in the childhood we did not get to fully experience.

After meeting at an open mic fundraiser for the Love Yourself Foundation, we ran through the gamut of dates featuring our shared interests. Both English majors with a love of the written word, we started writing poetry alongside one another, giving feedback and teaching each other skills that we wanted to improve like performing and gaining more confidence to submit to the ether that is a writing or art contest. 

Although we are almost a decade apart in age, the bonds of being Filipino-American eldest daughters with a military arsenal of hobbies and talents made camaraderie a no-brainer. There was so much less translation and explanation, and a lot more flow-state action, understanding, and mutual appreciation of what the other could take care of without one even asking.

Even when we cook together, it feels seamless, where one person is on the next step before the other even asks. We speak up (very quickly)  and are super expressive (like full on grimace) when something is not to our liking (such as the time Niko made sinigang and—okay I may have gotten a little crazy with the taro). We both agree the sinigang became more of a... stew (which is my dad’s style of it but I did go a step too far)

When Mei-Mei was invited to facilitate zine workshops for the Around the Table program, she thought of Niko immediately and, without question, called her because food and poetry are our shared great loves. And thus, in the Tous Les Jours on Spring Mountain, over oolong iced tea and curry pan, a truly beautiful friendship was transcribed into a recipe. Wishing you all at least one friendship as sweet.


Niko Mendoza is a Las Vegas-based artist and activist creating written and visual artworks that explore nature, nostalgia, and identity with humor, curiosity, and a sprinkle of sarcasm. An irregular in local exhibitions, Niko’s work is a joyful rebellion against perfectionism and "growing up," and a practice in simply growing both as an individual and as a community.

Mei-Mei Mijares has more hometowns than you. She spent her childhood on army bases across Texas, Tennessee, California, and Germany. She grew up with a book in her hands, including the time she fell and broke her leg in ninth grade. After graduating high school as class valedictorian, she went to UC Santa Barbara for her degree in English and a minor in German. Mei-Mei currently resides in Las Vegas pursuing a Master's in Couple & Family Therapy at UNLV. You can find her singing karaoke, enjoying D&D, playing pickleball, or painting magical landscapes. Her debut novel Unabashed is a conversation between her past and present self.

Kathleen Kuo