I interrupt this perfectly lovely holiday weekend to report that my aunt, Elena Montes, just gave me a humungous bag of pan de sal from Tropical Bakeshop (with a branch near you! Vallejo, Daly City, Union City...).
In all my pan de sal-ivating days, I have never tasted better. The interior is extraordinarily tender, slightly doughy, faintly sweet. But please understand: as deeply as I care for each and every one of you (with the exception of you, you, and you), I will not be sharing. Please don't create an awkward situation by asking.
Gotta run, and I think you know why.
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