Ang Kusina sa Aming Tahanan

As far back as I can remember, our meals were always home cooked except for one day each weekend when the whole family would go out to eat.

My late mother (God bless her soul) was Pampanguena and the kitchen was her domain…and us kids were her minions :D. Mom bought fresh meat and produce almost everyday and she would always take me with her to the market. I didn’t care for the curious smells, the wet floors and the crowd but tagging along meant that I could buy the komiks of my choice and, if it were early enough, some kakanin.

I didn’t realize it back then but our shopping expeditions were an education in itself. How do you tell if a fish is fresh? When is the best time to buy seafood? What should be on your shopping list for a week’s worth of meals? And what about the art of bargaining? Mom was a loyal suki to a number of vendors so she rarely had to bargain but when she did, she was good. Sad to say, I didn’t take after her in that respect.

Mom’s philosophy about housework was that everyone had to pitch in equally. And that included cooking. All of us had to at least learn how to cook a pot of rice. The grains didn’t come pre-rinsed nor did we have a rice cooker so we had to wash it at least twice and, depending on what kind of rice it was, measure out the water with the lines on our fingers as our guide.

Since I was home from school before lunch, I was her company when she would prepare lunch. And I became an apprentice of sorts. She would show me how to cut veggies and meats, what ingredients went with what dish, and when it came time to cook them, she would have me pull up a chair close to the stove so I could see what was going on. She never followed any recipes, they were all stored in her head. But the results were always mouthwatering.

Everything was prepared from scratch. I remember dreading fiesta time because although we didn’t have a feast at home, Mom made goodies that were meant to be given away to neighbors. This meant that my brothers and I had to spend time helping her in the kitchen. Green papayas were harvested from the trees in our yard so they could be made into atchara. My job was to grate them which I absolutely hated doing because I was convinced I would also grate my knuckles to the bone. Never happened although I did get a scratch or two.

Another must-cook was halayang ube (purple yam) which also involved grating. My brothers and I would take turns stirring the halaya mixture in the kawa (a cooking pan that looks like a giant wok) until we could feel the beginnings of a kulani. LOL! However, the reward was worth the pain. Armed with spoons, we were allowed to eat what was left in the pan after all the llaneras were filled up. Leche flan was also a staple but this was something my mom did by herself. I’ve tried making it a few times but they were never as creamy nor as smooth as hers. I even tried her method of straining it with a katsa cloth but…

To this day, I still follow lessons learned from mom. Never stir when you add in vinegar; wait until it boils so the vinegar doesn’t taste hilaw. For bigger latik grains, let the coconut cream boil down undisturbed. When frying fish or meat, wait for the oil to get really hot so whatever it is you’re frying doesn’t stick. And to minimize/avoid getting oil splatters, listen: if it has quieted down, then it’s safer to turn the fish or meat over.

My little boy is 5 and I try to involve in him kitchen activities. So far, he likes loading and unloading the dishwasher and sorting clean silverware. As far as cooking is concerned though, he loves it when I bake cakes or cookies.

He gets to lick the batter off the whisk.

He can pour the chocolate chips in the bowl…

…and he can put some of them in his mouth.

That’s half the fun of baking cookies.