The Sunday Roast
"Nadia's family does Sunday roast—Pakistani style, with biryani instead of beef. When her brother's friend Faisal becomes a regular guest, she discovers some traditions are worth keeping."
The Sunday Roast
"Your mother's biryani is the best in Birmingham."
Nadia rolled her eyes. Her brother's friend Faisal said this every Sunday.
"You've been coming for six months. She knows."
"Then I keep coming because..." He paused. "I'm still working on my excuse."
The excuse became obvious to everyone except them.
"He likes you," her mother whispered.
"He likes biryani."
"Beta, he can get biryani anywhere. He comes here for you."
The Sunday after that conversation, Nadia really looked at Faisal. Kind eyes. Warm smile. Genuine laugh at her father's terrible jokes.
"Why do you really come?" she asked.
"Because your family feels like home." He met her eyes. "And because you're the most interesting part of it."
Their first kiss was in her mother's kitchen—biryani steaming on the stove.
"This changes Sunday roast," Nadia murmured.
"This improves Sunday roast." Faisal grinned. "Now I have an excuse to stay for dinner forever."
The family was unsurprised. The biryani was uninterrupted.
The wedding added one more seat to the Sunday table.
Best tradition either of them ever kept.