Ma and the Cooking Pots

Part of my daily routine goes something like this:

*cellphone ringing*
Me: Hello, good morning Mrs. Cruz.
Ma: (in her best English tone) Who's this?
Me: Wahahaha. Ako kaya!
Ma: Yes, what can I do for you Mr. Stephen Cruz?
...
..
.

Ma was never a career woman, so I kid her occassionally by being a very formal person whenever I call her up on her mobile phone. For variety, I do not call her at a specific time of the day; I call her at random hours. Thus, I'd catch her sometimes in the palengke, or at my tita's house, or in the mall with Pa, or accompanying my kid sister to her school or even when she's just half-awake.

Ma was my primary influence in my cooking capability. I was her kitchen assistant when I was younger. She taught me how to fry, boil, stew, broil, chop, marinate, grill and bake. She shared me her tips on how to select meat, poultry and fish from the wet market. She overlooked how I clean up after my kitchen activities, the requirement being that the kitchen has to be spotless after I'm done.

Of course, I and my siblings (there were 8 of us) were bound to leave the family house sooner or later because of our work assignments. But she looks forward to us calling her that we'd be 'home' for the weekend so she can bring out her cooking pots.

The cooking pots are Ma's treasures. She's acquired them over the years -- some were gifts, others were specific purchases abroad and a few which were handed over by lola to her. The pots vary in color, craftsmanship and size too. She has enough pots to ensure that whenever our family hosts a family reunion, there's enough lutong-bahay to feed about fifty people (that's the size of our extended family).

The cooking pots tell whose special day is it for the family as judged by Ma. All we have to do is march to the kitchen and look at the pot's contents. If the pot contains sinigang na baboy at baka, then Ma's expecting me to be home. If it's chicken afritada, then my brother Wowie is the house's guest of honor. Monggo and fried chicken for my brother Tweet, kare-kare for my eldest sis, ginisang upo at hipon for my youngest sister, morcon for my doctor-sister, adobo at bistek for my youngest brother and paksiw na lechon for special occasions. How much the pot contains indicate how many of us will be home, and what the pot contains tell us who is it that Ma misses most among us.

If ever I arrive home and Ma is not there to greet me (as she's probably visiting one of her friends or is at the mall), I know that a glance at the kitchen stove with a pot of freshly cooked viand will be there to welcome me and my siblings.

That's my Ma and her cooking pots. Advanced happy birthday!

This post is in tribute to Ma.
Priscilla 'BABY' Reyes Cruz
April 21, 1946
still alive, healthy and cooks special meals for us
looking forward to her first apo