The Many Ways to Cook Adobo

Speaking of comfort food, for those who know me well, I am not very enthusiastic in showing my kitchen prowess. Sure, I have learned how to whip up some dishes for my family, but if I could avoid it, I would do something else, if you please.

UK Blouse,
Loalde Skirt
Feud Maryjanes

In the Cindrella house I grew up in, the four sisters were assigned by Mama to do household tasks every summer. One was to wash clothes, while another was to iron them. One could take up cleaning the yard and the house, while the other had to do the cooking. I was never designated to be the cook, er.. correction: I usually ducked the pitiful task of cooking. Why? First, my hands would smell of garlic and onions hours afterwards (so how could I have held hands with the BF when he came over, di bah?). Second, I still had to wash all the pots and pans and utensils even after I was done (the wicked sister assigned to washing the dishes insisted that she was ONLY to wash the plates). Third, this old saying of “don’t sing while cooking, or else you will be an old maid”, confounded the idea that cooking was never fun. And lastly, I had to look at everybody’s faces while eating to see if they liked my food or if I had to call the ambulance, in case they had been poisoned. Tsk, tsk...too much pressure.

Monik's gift to me.
Sorry, girl, i haven't tried
everything in it yet!

So when I got married, that’s when the ghost of Mama Maya caught up on me. There was one time when we didn’t have a helper, I painstakingly whipped up humba, a pork dish with a thick, sweet soy sauce. On the table, the Hubby and the kids commented, “Mom, your adobo tastes different!” My reaction? I cried and told them that it’s not adobo, but humba. I walked out on them and vowed never to cook for my family again. Of course, I reluctantly returned to the kitchen come evening (after much apologizing from the Fam!)--I could only buy a few minutes of drama. That’s why I marvel at people who have the passion for cooking (Here’s a toast to you, Chef Menoy!)  For me, they are the most amazing people on the planet. Okay, I’m exaggerating.

That's why every holidays, I don't cook . I buy our Noche Buena from our local restaurants who are willing to provide for families with cooking-challenged mothers like me. On New Year's Eve, we eat out. My Hubby understands, and he is always willing to pay. Now, I wonder why?

One of my Ginebra friends, Monik Gatbonton, gave me a book on adobo as a Christmas present years ago. Maybe she knew I wasn’t the best cook in town? But really, how many ways can someone cook adobo? Can I just let my helper count the ways?        

 

 

Shame on us Pinays who can't cook

a decent adowboh! Hehehe!!!

P.S. Day 7 in Shingles Prison...Has it been only a week since my first day of quarantine? Sorry, but looking at my unwanted facial and leg hair and long toenails and greasy scalp, why, it must be 7 years! Now I know how Rizal must have felt. Shoot me now at Bagumbayan!!!