If I’m not following the recipes of my mother or Casa Veneracion, my cooking is basically just winging it. Unlike my husband who likes to involve complicated Japanese methods, my home-cooked meals are simple, easy and fast. And usually delicious, if not healthy all the time. With the help of the internet, winging your cooking is easier these days.

I’m one of those annoying people who still list down New Year’s goal. It’s a tradition of sorts that started when my father used to promise every new year that he’d stop drinking, ironically amidst the holiday’s (drunken) revelry. As for my part I would promised to understand him better, become a better student, better daughter blah, blah, blah. It’s been a while since my father and I had one of those “heart-to-heart” year-end talks. When I’ve matured into the daughter with own salary, own apartment, own life, and own money to buy my own alcohol, I realized that a promise to break up with bad habits is always easier than done. Unfortunately for my father, it took an episode of aneurysm before he finally made good with his promises. I, on the other hand, kept the tradition of listing down New Year’s goals.

hree weeks ago I noticed that my belly is somewhat bigger than normal. I dismissed it as bloating due to ovulation. But it didn’t go away after the egg dropped, so like any sane human being, I Googled my symptoms.

Twenty years ago I was teenager preoccupied with only three things : a sexual awakening I couldn’t fully comprehend, a strong desire to get away from the small island where I was growing up, and a wish that my mother would leave what I considered a messy marriage. I thought it was cool to have separated parents, cool to have sex and live in the city.

his post should be called #thekitchenthatbankruptme, a hashtag I’ve often used when we were renovating this space. For 10 months it was a source of frustration and only recently transformed into a space where my little family and I make delicious meals together.