It's Not 'What' But 'Who' Is Cooking in 2009

It's my least favorite place in the world, the kitchen. And I find the least comfort standing right next to the stove. Yes, I am a cooking ignoramus. I am completely clueless as to how to boil an egg, really. I have fried though a good number of anything that can be eaten straight from the frying pan. Yes, eggs. Spam. Chicken. Bacon. Pork belly. Tapa. Sausage. Ham. Rice. Fish. Name it. And that's it.

So for 2009, I have resolved to give the kitchen a second try and take this business of being a housewife a little bit more seriously. You see, I'm going into my seventh year of wife-hood come June, fourth year of motherhood in May but I have yet to cook a decent meal for my husband Nubs and daughter Indie.

Yes, I know. It's a shame.

Saturday night was the launching of my wife/mother/fledgling chef career. The red broiler-like object above—which I found serendipitously among our stored wedding presents during our recent move from one apartment to another—became my springboard for my so-called launch. I was (still am) actually not sure how to call this thing, a stove-top gadget that used steam to turn food from non-edible to edible.

First step was to season the meat. I got the unofficial recipe from my sister Odie who's a great cook. I cannot divulge though how I went about it as this particular recipe is a bestseller in my sister's mini restaurant in our hometown in Batangas.

The meat looked quite photogenic on the grill. I tested one piece with a fork and there was a tender and juicy promise to it. The smell was even more promising. The question was: will it translate to taste? At least it was healthy eating. I mean, there was no cooking oil involved in the process. So there was only natural animal fat to contend with. Like I said, at least.


I cheated on the salad. After all, a neophyte cannot take on too many courses in one go, including something as simple as a leafy concoction. I bought a ready-to-serve pack from Rustan's Fresh—the Oriental kind with creamy mango dressing—and was given a hand by my guest/friend Rosene with the tossing. (I didn't trust myself to do it, actually.)


And so after 3 hours of labor with the red gadget, the table was finally set. The pork was not as juicy as it should have been having been ready an hour or so before. The chicken took too long to cook and was actually still on the raw side we discovered and had to spend some more time in the broiler, again! (The truth is, I couldn't tell if the chicken was cooked and had to enlist Rosene's help. Same with the vegetables.) The wait was worth it though as my primadonna chicken turned out to be winner for the night. Runner-up honors go to the salad which was surprisingly yummy considering it was pre-packed from the grocery store. In its case, cheating did pay I must say.


Now, my guinea pigs (top photo, clockwise: friends Rosene and Irma, daughter Indie, hubby Nubbin) showed signs of enjoying the food. So much so that the lone leg part above, the leftover salad and the bunch of bananas together was the only dinner I managed to serve Nubs' bestfriend Julien who came in late. We honestly thought he wasn't coming!


No matter, Julien like our two female guests seemed very happy though. "Ang sarap ng food!" gushed Rosene before leaving. Feeling like the hostess with the mostest, I boldly invited them to yet another dinner somewhere in the very near future.

Next project: hotpot.