Food and Family

Looking back on my childhood, I can tell you a few things: it was loud and rowdy, and I was always full. Ask any Filipino and they could probably say the same things. There were many a night spent at my aunts’ and uncles’ houses for mahjong, poker, or karaoke parties, which really meant sleepovers because inevitably night would give way to day and we would still be there. We’d all wake up the next day to a huge breakfast, cooked by my aunts, and we would spend the day together before we got carted back home to finish homework before school on Monday. Many weekends played out this way: the whole family being together and food always playing a central role.

It is no understatement when I say everything we do revolves around food. We cook to feed a small army (I am guilty of the same), we eat, and then eat some more. We talk with our mouths full of food, our hands deftly moving across a plate from rice to protein to mouth. We haul through one plate of food, only to eat more because a new dish was just finished. Filipinos have a certain pride when it comes to their cooking as they feel the same way about food as I do. To us, food is deeply personal and allows us a medium to connect. You got a promotion? Awesome, where should we eat? You aced a test? Congrats, let’s eat! Hey, let’s barbecue because it’s sunny and a Saturday! Cool, what should I bring? It is everything.

And, we love to share food with you. We’ll wave at you wildly as you enter our home, and right after we ask you how you and your family are, we’ll ask you to come eat. It doesn’t matter if you’ve eaten already, you’ll eat again. And after we’ve finished shoving food onto your plate and force feeding you the absolute threshold of your daily caloric intake, we’ll send you home with food to last you a week. It’s just what happens. I vaguely recall one such occasion at my godmom’s house and for whatever reason, I got sent home with an onslaught of food, plus a loaf of bread and cleaning products. Clearly to us, sharing doesn’t stop at good food, it also includes keeping a tidy home.

What is fascinating to me is that all that I’ve described is true amongst every Filipino family I’ve ever encountered. You’ll find that many Filipino cooks have their tried and true recipes, passed down to them from their grandmothers and mothers. There is no written record of these recipes, it was completely done by observation and repetition. Take my dad for example. He is a really great cook and makes my favorite Filipino dishes. He learned our family’s recipes by watching his mom in the kitchen. The last time I asked him for a recipe, he just listed the ingredients without quantities or methods. It wasn’t until then did I realize that he couldn’t tell me how to make something – he had to show me, the same way he learned it. And that to me is so special. It’s preserving our family’s history through the very medium that always brings us together.

Quite honestly, I am relatively new to cooking, having only just started to really pick this up in the last six years. I couldn’t tell you how I fed myself before this hobby came along. My idea of a home cooked meal back then consisted of rice and eggs, and if I was brave, I’d try my hand at garlic fried rice. It was a pretty sad state of affairs. So, you’re probably asking, what changed? I started to recognize that my own history and experiences with food tied me to my family, the most important people in my world. And as my aunts and uncles got older and less inclined to cook for us, I started to learn my way through a kitchen, partly as a means to keep my family together. Cooking for them created a reason to get together, not that a real reason was ever needed. It became a vehicle for family time, real quality time of hanging out hours after a meal, telling stories, picking over leftovers and having coffee. I am still trying to resurrect Sunday dinners in my household. It’s time for traditions to come back and be graciously honored.

The best times I’ve had in my kitchen is when I’m cooking with my friends and family. Don’t get me wrong – I enjoy throwing down a huge meal for them on my own, but the time is much more special when it’s all of us together, clambering for space and getting into each other’s way. I don’t care if my kitchen looks like a bomb went off after we’ve blitzed through an afternoon of cooking. What matters more is that we’re all together, sharing, showing our love for one another through our food and the time spent. That, to me, is priceless.

Happy Forking!