My First Adobo

I'm pretty sure I've told you that I don't know how to cook. So I won't expect you to question me about my post today. My first Adobo. Yeah yeah, it's silly, I know, but I really have to tell you something about this.

You see, one thing I learned so much about my self when I was with Vince is that there is an inner cook in me. Because I seriously LOVE food! And I don't just love eating them, I also love to know how they are prepared. I love to eat and I think so does everybody else. But later on I realized something was seriously wrong about me on this. Everyone I know knows how to cook (if not almost)! That kind of freaked me out a bit. It is because I have some kind of fear about cooking since I was in high school and since then every time I get near the stove I'd freeze that my eyes bulge out of its socket and my skin starts to prick.

I have so many horrifying moments in the kitchen that if you're a member of my family you'd know that I'll be a disaster once you let me go in there. One of the best (and yet horrific) moments of my kitchen life was when I was left home alone by my entire family in our house in Antipolo. Disclaimer: This is stupid. This is so stupid I tell you, this is going to kill my credibility. So, if you're a close friend of mine, I have to say this to you, I don't mind the distance okay, as long as you still text me or call me every now and then.

Going back to the story. I was left at home, alone and was told to cook rice and then prepare the table because they'll be the one to buy roasted chicken outside to go with the rice (very pinoy). So I did what I was told. I washed the rice grains on the casserole and put water up to the level that's just exactly right to cook the rice and then put it on the stove. I placed it carefully and graciously on the stove. After that, since I found that very easy to do I roamed around the house a little bit just to make sure everything is in order and just when everything is all good I went back to my place in the sofa and continued watching TV.

A couple of minutes more my entire family arrived - my sister Iris looking very grumpy, the youngest Nico almost falling on the floor, very tired from the trip (I forgot where they came from) and then Mama and Papa with some hefty bags. I helped them in, looking graciously normal and of service. Now here goes the horrifying moment. Iris asked, "Have you cooked rice already? I'm so hungry." At the moment I nearly peed my lifetime supply of pee in my youngster shorts.

From the time I placed the casserole on the stove until that very moment in time I stood holding the door ajar I have never thought of what happened to the rice I was cooking. The rice! The rice! The rice! What in the name of Elvis Presley happened to it anyway? But as I began to wonder whatever happened to that stupid rice for dinner my heart sank 300 feet under. Mama opened the casserole and found out that the poor rice grains were never even cooked at all. All this time it was soaked in water inside that casserole and I forgot to put the fire on! I forgot to put the goddamn fire on!

Well, that's the end of it. Mind you, it was just one story I told you. You haven't heard of my stupidity over frying fish. Nah.

Anyway, I go back to this first time with Adobo. Well, this time it's different. Why is it different? I don't know. It felt different! This time I think know what I'm doing. Oh well I'm not entirely sure I was decided to know what I was doing. At least I know I'm not missing out on something. Yes, I put the fire on this time. But yet something more was different. While I was cooking, I wasn't exactly minding what I was doing. I was cooking, alright, but also I was pretty much doing it like I had been doing it for the longest time! It also felt like someone was telling me to dice the garlic, cut the chicken, put just a little bit of oil and blah blah blah, and I didn't mind. As I can recall it perfectly, my mind was like flying away from the kitchen window. I remember I was even telling a story to my self about a group of friends working on an out of town charity event for the less fortunates to learn how to skate and participate in a longboarding festival! Yeah, that's exactly what I was thinking that time and it felt great! A little more imagination flaring here and there and after a few more minutes my Adobo is cooked. Voila!

It was as perfect as I had imagined it, not until my younger siblings came and insulted my cooking. Oh but still, it was a great experience! For the entire time I was in the kitchen I totally forgot all about my fear of cooking and my disastrous moments doing what I had just done. It was simply the best.

This episode of my life - cooking - is finally stepping in to my horizon. It was used to be shaded in gray like an old photograph I dared not to look at, but now it meddles in with the rest of my colors - blue, white, pink, yellow and green. It's all because we have to think positive and that changes doesn't always have to be shoved in your face, it can happen even by just letting your imagination flow.