Stories about Food
He couldn’t remember the last time he had chocolate! My father stared at the shiny bar as the soldier opened the package for him, revealing the rich brown color. It really was chocolate! He took the bar and greedily took a bite. Yuck. It's disgusting was the first thought to enter my my father's head.
All through his life as husband and father, Angkong did not tell Awa to be “less smarter” or “less fussy about others.” Instead, he let Awa be, and while she was busy in the front part of the house, Angkong manned the kitchen and prepared meals for his wife and their ten children.
No matter where we went, the eating continued throughout the day. Halo-halo from the restaurant by the bay, or peanuts that had been freshly steamed, the shells still caked with dirt that would get stuck beneath our fingernails. When we’d get home, it was typical for Mama Lola to open her giant refrigerator, asking us what we wanted for dinner.
“Every Pista Minatay, our dearly departed come back to visit us, the living. It is during Tigkalalag, All Souls’ Day, that the spirits of our ancestors come back and roam the earth,” she said, her hands busy with the spatula, stirring the rice constantly.