The Foodie

Even before I was born, I already had the "foodie blood." My paternal grandparents used to own a carinderia at the market of Bacnotan, La Union and that my late grandfather was known to be a good cook, and would always be the one to turn to whenever the town fiesta came. My father was also a great cook, and so is my mom, who studied Home Economics in college.

My late father used to tell me that they never had problems feeding me, because I wasn't picky. Maybe that's the reason why weight has been my struggle since I could remember. I would like to blame my late father if I must, because he fed us good food while he was alive - he never wanted skinny children. But of course, the biggest blame for the weight thing falls on me. I am very easy to please, I can certainly eat anywhere (provided it's clean enough), and I can eat most foods, but there are still foods that I would turn down, like avocado, durian, liver, okra, and seafood pasta.

My kitchen tales started when I was in Grade 3 or Grade 4... my brother and I would oftentimes cook rice porridge the soonest time we get home from school because our allowances weren't enough. Most of the times, it was my brother who would cook because he was older and that I never have taken the liking to cook, until he told me, "If you want to eat, you must learn to cook, too. You can't just eat and eat..." It was through him that I started helping out in the kitchen, remembering his simple lesson - "putting the foods that will cook the longest first, followed by the next."

When my sister was born, we had some cousins taking care of her (as both of our parents work), and I continued helping them in the kitchen - sauteeing this, adding that - but my first taste of real cooking was when I was 13 years old, when I was left alone in the house with my cousin Leah who was sick that time. We both had to eat, but she cannot get up to cook lunch. I just had to take over and the very first dish I cooked was the burger patty. I had to do it from step one, which was chopping the pork finely. My cousin thanked me for feeding her, and it started my confidence in taking over the kitchen.

However, I wasn't really a confident cook. Although as I grew older I have learned how to cook different dishes, I have always prevented myself from cooking because my mom has always loved my brother so much, and whenever I serve food she wouldn't find it really delicious. I know my cooking is sometimes much better than my brother's because his food are 99% tasteless (he doesn't want to season the foods), yet my mom would always rave about my brother's cooking and would look down on my cooking. I would still cook, yes, but not when mom was around. For a time, my cooking was exclusive only for my sister, my dad, and myself.

As time passes by, my mom has learned to accept my cooking and when dad died in 2007, the kitchen was turned over to my brother and I. My brother was a more kitchen person than I am - and his recipe was once featured at FOOD Magazine. I still have to try my luck on that.

Blogging about my kitchen and food tales started when I started taking pictures of the foods I eat, dishes I cooked, and checking out food places. I am still not a certified foodie as I still haven't eaten to that much food places, but in time I will don my tiara. :) This blog will be the reflection of such tales, and I hope I could give you a great gastronomic time while you're here.