If you’re reading this, it’s because of my mum. Let me explain.
I was around five when I realised my mum was the best cook. I remember waking up to the aroma of breakfast wafting through the air – whether it was as simple as noodles, rice with hotdog, or pancakes, it would always be the best I’d ever have.
I was around ten when I realised my mum loved to go out to eat. I remember waking up early every Sunday, eager to go out. After our 10 AM mass, we would go out and find somewhere new to eat or have lunch at our tried-and-tested comfort food restaurants in the city. Either way, it made me excited to get out of the house and feast.
I was around fifteen when I realised my mum was a super cook too! See, she was an amazing doctor back home – a paediatrician who appeared on TV, had beautiful clinics, and was loved by many of her colleagues and patients. However, that’s not her only day job. Sometimes, she would cater food for others too! She was so good at cooking and baking that she would get invited to events and asked if she could – and she would. She loved expressing herself through food that much. Her friends and colleagues always raved about her Food for the Gods bars, chicken a la king, or her simple but unique baked chicken. And as a young, impressionable teenager, that really changed my perspective on how food can be a fantastic vehicle for art, expression, and love.
Later in her life, she brought up the idea of owning a bakery or a café – aptly called Thelma’s Blue Kitchen – and started that endeavour by selling her own goods that her customers loved. I was ecstatic as a little kid – seeing my mum own her talents and skills like that; and as the kids say today, that was very “mother” of her.
I was around twenty when I realised I didn’t quite like the path I was on. Like Mum, I ventured into the medical field but didn’t quite have the passion she had. I took a year off, and while I was finding myself, I got lost in the world of baking. Somehow, I ended up opening my own at-home bakery – providing for little cafés, selling online, and joining food expos. I would get up at 4 AM to bake, and my mum would get up and join me in the trenches. Not only that, she would also drive me around to deliver all the goods. I didn’t know what I was doing, but to be honest, it didn’t matter. My mum was there with me, dedicating her precious time towards helping me express my own love for food and flavour. What mattered was that I felt safe doing so.
I could go on and on about all the little and big moments she showed us she loved us – sick days, happy days, birthdays, weddings, and most importantly – the days in between the big ones. The ones where my sister and I would be watching our favourite TV show, probably bored and hungry, and Mum would unexpectedly shout, “May pagkain sa baba! Tara na, patayin niyo muna TV at kain tayo!” (Translate: “There’s food downstairs! Let’s go, turn off the TV first and let’s eat!”) Those were the best days – as simple and as joyous as her yelling at us that there were snacks on the table.
I was twenty-five when we found out our mum was sick – a brain tumour that wouldn’t go away. She fought hard for two years, and at the young age of sixty-five, our mum passed away.
See – I am here, in this little corner of the internet where I get to share my thoughts about food, culture, and sometimes life, because of her. My mum’s loving devotion to making sure we were well-fed – whether through her cooking or her excitement for cafés and restaurants – is quite literally why I get so excited about food. I love making it, I love learning about it, and I love eating it; but most importantly, I absolutely love sharing it. It has now become a part of my heart – from the moment I wake up to the moment I sleep, my mind is filled with “What can I cook for my family today?” or “Where can we eat today?”. It is such a privilege to be able to think this way – to freely express through words and actions my own love for food. Little did I know that all those years growing up, I was absorbing all the love she gave me. Now, my heart and my belly are full, and I fully know it’s my turn to share the same love. I have so much of it.
I hope, as you read through my posts, you know that I appreciate you staying. More importantly, as you read a review or a recipe, know that you just read a piece of my heart.
Happy Mother’s Day to all mums everywhere. And to my own up in Heaven, I promise to keep on cooking.
