We went back to Mila's the next night. And the night after that. By the third visit, the staff knew our orders, Mila knew everyone's name, and Sofia had been invited into the kitchen to watch Mila make the sofrito.
Sofia stood at the counter beside Mila, watching the older woman's hands move through the ingredients with practiced ease. Sofia didn't just watch — she analyzed. It was the same focus she brought to an acquisition target, the same quiet intensity. "You use the cilantro last," she observed. "Most people add it first."
"Cilantro is delicate," Mila said. "You add it last or you kill the flavor. Same with people — you handle the delicate ones last, or you break them."
Sofia smiled. It was a CEO's smile — the kind that said I'm filing that away for later. "Smart."
"I've been cooking for thirty years, mi amor. You learn a few things."
