Kitchen Confidentials

(OFW series part 7)

When you become an OFW, you will learn the fundamentals of being independent, the most important of which: HOW TO COOK.

I have to admit, I don't know how to cook anything more complicated than adobo. I can fry anything into perfection and cook Lucky Me pancit canton, but that's about it. My sinigang is either too bland or too sour. Ask me to boil an egg and I would not know when to turn off the stove; chances are it's too hard boiled or too soft.

I know, this isn't the type of things my future mother-in-law should hear, but hey, I'm too young to think of a mother-in-law to please. Okay, maybe not. But still, I hope that by the time my future mother-in-law reads this, I have gone beyond my adobo skills. (I don't know where did these thoughts come from, but for the sake of spontaneity, I am not going to delete this part.)

Please don't get the impression that I'm the bratty kid who doesn't help in kitchen chores. I used to help my mom crush garlic and slice bell peppers at home, but I avoided onions if I can help it. I could make the perfect lumpiang shanghai, the part where you put the filling, then roll and seal the wrapper, I mean.

By the time I studied in Diliman, I stayed in a boarding house where we were not allowed to cook. We relied on the powers of the microwave oven, anything instant, UP food stalls, nearby restos and deliveries. Hence, my cooking skills were never tested. Or tried, to begin with.

During my magazine days, my life was pretty much the same. Leaving the house at 8am and coming home at 9pm (if I was lucky), I was too tired to cook.

Then here I am, living the so-called independent life. I have improved a bit. Just a bit. I learned how to do buttered prawns. Yehey. Well, that's it. I am still working on my timing on turning off the stove when boiling an egg. I still try to remember to put salt when frying an egg. And I am still working on my sinigang. Oh, and I can make the perfect salad, too! But that's just tossing, still not more complicated than adobo.

If it is indeed true that the only way to a man's heart is through his stomach, then I would be an epic failure. But wait. Adobo and siningang could be my redemption.

Apparently I should spend more time in the kitchen. Just don't ask me to cook anything with bagoong and I think I'll be fine. And yes, gaining a pound would serve me well, too.