Hello everyone! I just want to share my thoughts behind every dish I prepare and cook. It all started in a setting where a regular housewife needs to do her household chores like budgeting, cleaning, and cooking. Of all the things I do, I have noticed that cooking requires more passion. Not only time, patience, but also the devotion to give the best and special knowledge I know about the ingredients and nutritional facts of the food I serve. In cases when you want your loved ones to feel satisfied with the food they eat, I consider not only the taste, but also the goodness of it in our body.

I came from a big and happy family were my mother used to be the nurturer of us all. She was the best! A hands-on housewife who had raised ten children with my father, and it all happened under the care and mercy of The Almighty God. And for that, we praise and thank God for everything!

When the time came my mother died, she left us not only her love in our hearts, but also the good memories for a lifetime. Everything she had done for the family were marked inside us, including the taste of the foods she used to cook. She did everything with her heart in it. Now I understand why I grew up in a home where only delicious foods were served, not because we are rich… but because we were raised with the best ingredients a good cooking mother could have… The passion and love.

My mother is a unique person that I looked up from the time I knew her till the time she had left us. She never taught me to become like her, cause it will never be, for she will always be the best for us. And now as I walk through my own path, in my own little way, I will put the taste of love my mother used to put in all our dishes at home. I do not have the list of ingredients or the measurements she used when she was cooking for us…. All I have are the memories of taste she had imprinted in me that gives me inspiration to continue her legacy in cooking. I am not a cook or a chef. I never went to any culinary school. I am doing these postings not to impress anybody, but to share the simple and little knowledge I have got from my family, relatives and friends. I will always remember my mother and her taste of love which I think is the best secret in order to come out with delicious meals in every plate. I am hoping that I can inspire in the future to those who are thinking that they can’t cook. As long as you have the passion to put happiness in every platter, the talent can be developed when you love what you are doing.

My inspiration is my mother, and my whole family. Now, being a mother too, I am dedicating everything I do here to my one and only daughter. This is for her. When my time is up and I have to leave her, this will be one of my remembrance that she can have and share to others. Also, to my loving husband, my interest to cook started because of you. And to my younger brother… Dude, I did not know anything about blogging until you patiently intruduced it to me. You are the fire in my kitchen! To see you all enjoying while eating my dishes, is my best reward. Thank you all for everything.

lastly, as my personal note, you might notice that I do not put any measurements to any of my ingredients needed for my dishes. The truth is… I  really don’t. Why? Because I used to follow recipes with measurements, and it did not fit my taste. I’ve realized we have different types of taste preferences. What’s sweet, sour, or salty to me, might not be to you. So I decided not to write the “so called… exact measurements”.  In case you have interest to cook any of my dishes, I am willing to help and guide you all the way. Just message or call me. I’ll be more happy to serve you.

for mom….

I KNOW THAT FACE
It’s not the absence that keeps me thinking,
But the memories in every little corner that resemble a dream
It’s not the image or figure that I used to see,
Or the touches that I had felt
Please believe me… it’s not an illusion, really… not at all
Sometimes I see the eyes that had made me see the sun
Literally no longer exist, but always around
I can feel the glances, the stares, and the whispers the wind brings
A song that I used to hear, very familiar but I can’t even sing
It breaks my heart, lowers my spirit
Until a time for asking a Divine request,
a piece of journey while shut eyes asleep
deep in a night that can see the face that I used to see.
The name behind the memories will soon be forgotten
Images will fade, moments that had passed by erased through time
But still, I’ll remember it till my heart stops to beat
The words that had been said can never be heard
from the lips where they slipped
Or the air that had flown in and out those nostrils
The voice and the smiles within the years as it flies
No, it’s not it.
It’s not the shape or the color I used to imagine
The moves in every walk, or the voice in every talk
Please believe me, it’s not it.
Things will never be same, but I’ll keep saying this…
I Know That Face…
The most beautiful face that I’ve ever seen and loved
I may now only see it in my dreams, memories and photographs
But in my heart a time will come, whenever it will be
Words in my lips with a huge smile in it
Will come out in a delightful shout saying repeatedly
The words that I cannot say in this present life
The words that belong to the one who gave me unconditional love
The only one that God provided me for giving my life
I hope and pray that time will come, where I can say these words
In front of her face while running to her arms for a lifetime longing embrace
that I only dream of nowadays.
I feel it will come someday, a day when I can see that face again
Yes, I do believe that I will say these words… out loud!
With joy and excitement….
Yes…. I Know That Face…..that Face…

-HAPPY COOK-

 

God saw her getting tired,
and a cure was not to be.
So He put his arms around her
and whispered, “come to me”.

With tearful eyes we watched her suffer,
and saw her slowly fade away.
Although we loved her dearly,
we could not make her stay.
A golden heart stopped beating,
hard working hands put to rest.
God broke our hearts to prove to us,
He only takes the best.

If roses grow in heaven,
Lord please pick a bunch for me.
Place them in my Mother’s arms,
and tell her they’re from me.
Tell her I love and miss her,
and when she turns to smile,
place a kiss on her cheek,
and hold her for a while.
Because remembering her is easy,
I do it everyday.
But there’s an ache within my heart
that will never go away.

— author ANONYMOUS–