BOOK OF COMFORT

 

As I wrote this blogpost the other day, it suddenly reminded me of a special book I bought many years ago. It's a compilation of essays by well-known writers on their comfort food. Reading it again made me reminisce about the times I enjoyed food in my childhood years. 

Those summer days with my cousins spent under the shade of a big Mango tree and savoring its juicy fruit while daydreaming of what we wanted when we grew up. Those mornings when I woke up to the lingering smell of Kapeng Barako while my Lola poured it over on a bowl of steaming rice. That was divine. 

The number of times I spent my afternoon lounging in a hammock suspended between two Tamarind trees, while relishing its pod-like fruit. 

My love for Sago, according to my Lola, was inherited from my Lolo. We are the only two in the family who love Sago like crazy. 

I grew up in a household that served seafood regularly at home, that is why when we attend special occasions of relatives or friends, some think I have allergies as they don't see me eating shrimp or crabs. I never corrected that perception. 

Those tiny donuts remind me of my favorite person. To me, food will always be a source of peace and comfort.