My favorite memory of my father is his passion for cooking for us his family. When he retired from working in their family’s business he undertook grocery shopping and planning our daily meals. I remember his penchant for pairing one dish with another. For example he would pair pork chops with mung bean and kamote (sweet potato) soup. He also loved putting together kare kare or oxtail in peanut sauce with our national dish, chicken adobo. Nilaga or boiled beef served with fried chicken was another favorite food pairing he was fond of.
He taught our cook, Lola May, how to prepare tapa or Filipino beef jerky as well as our hometown pride and joy, pancit Malabon, a noodle dish topped with seafood like shrimp, oysters and smoked fish. It was a common sight to see the tapa being dried in the sun in our terrace. When I was working, my officemate, Mrs. B, loved to order the pancit Malabon since it was that good.
He loved to go everyday to our town's public market to catch what was on sale. He wore his signature bakya or wooden clogs which enabled him to fearlessly walk through the sometimes muddy passages in the market. He would look for bargains and adjust his menu for that day according to them. The tinderas or vegetable or meat peddlers knew him and would noisily clamor for his attention by screaming, "Over here, over here" and shoving their fresh produce to his face for him to inspect.
We enjoyed excellent meals every day and I still resort to his recipes for different Filipino dishes as I remembered them. We ate our lunch which was usually the central meal of the day in our round table with a lazy susan in the middle which we rotated to get to the dishes and hot rice as well as the various condiments like patis (fish sauce), vinegar or soy sauce that we needed to add further flavor to the dishes. Filipinos love to leave the completion of the saltiness to the people eating the dish rather than just flavoring it to the maximum.
Food was how my father showed his love for us. As a little girl and despite being still extremely busy with the burgeoning patis business they had, he made it a point to prepare Ovaltine drink for us every night to make sure we would grow healthy and strong. I remember him in his kamiseta and kansonsilyo (tshirt and shorts, his nightwear) mixing the brown Ovaltine powder in milk and mixing it with a spoon and telling us "drink this" since there was sometimes hesitation on our part. We did not want to be bothered from our play.
One particular scene comes to mind though the details are blurry as I recall how he showed his love for me. I believe it was when I broke the news that my office was sending me to Brazil for a training course. I recall he was not sure how to process the good news. But I knew he was happy and proud of me when he said "Go ahead eat the shrimps I prepared". He felt the news called for a celebration and seafood especially fresh ones like the shrimps he bought that day were worthy to mark that day.
You must be wondering why I posted that photo of banh mi above and below to accompany this essay. Three weeks ago, my manicurist, called me on the phone to come to their shop. She had this Vietnamese sandwich for me. She had promised that she would prepare this dish ever since I tried it once at her shop. I was really touched she went all out preparing it that day and felt the love since it was particularly challenging to prepare.
The day before another food incident at a chain restaurant made my day. When I requested the waitress for a take out box for my leftover tortilla soup, she packed in extra soup as well as extra cheese and tortilla strips which I jokingly requested as a whisper. I think she felt bad for me since I had to forego the "eat as much as you want sundae" which my husband had since I told her I was a on a diet.
These two incidents triggered my recollection of my father's display of his love for me. He was not very showy with his emotions but his actions through the language of food spoke louder than words. These three wonderful and touching small events show how universal and eloquent food is as a language that feeds not only the body but also the soul.
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