Some things I miss

On this throwback Thursday, I look back to the year 2015 when my family and I took eating out for granted. I also took for granted that the natural curls on my grandchild's head would stay there for good, but we enjoyed them for less than a year. The minute she had a haircut, the curls refused to grow back.

That was also the year I wore my "Mrs. E sunglasses" all over the place until one day at the UP Infirmary in Diliman, while I was distracted, I placed the pair down a side table and forgot about it.

Wearing Mrs. E (as in Epistola) sunglasses with curly-haired Kai behind me

Al fresco dining at Chaya Baguio

Matcha ice cream with red mongo

Baguio used to be known as a restaurant hub until COVID-19 put a stop to our frequent dining out. Although we're glad to learn that CHAYA Baguio remains open for take-out and delivery, my daughter Kimi, the expert on the subject, says Japanese food isn't quite as good as when you eat it in situ with all the elegant ceramic ware. The food doesn't travel well, and we live outside city limits.

What I terribly miss is the free after-meal matcha ice cream that Chaya serves in a mini bowl with a sliver of red mongo beans. Don't even say the word "sukiyaki" or else I will weep copious tears.

The reluctant kitchen helper

Perhaps in the next life I'll aspire to be like writer Fran Lebowitz, described by The New Yorker as "the patron saint of staying at home and doing nothing. She is famously averse to working, and famously resistant to technology; she has no cell phone or computer."

After years of being on the work treadmill, I've slid into semi-retirement with joyful relief, looking forward to my monthly SSS pension--not much but enough to treat myself and loved ones to a special meal. In my broken cell phone are the numbers of favorite restaurants, especially takeaway places. Until the malls open and I can find a technician to save my SIM, I am phone-less. I can be reached through email and FB messenger.

Lebowitz doesn't suffer from writer's block but what she calls "writer's blockade." Like her, I hate to cook, let alone help prepare while someone else cooks.

Two days ago, my sister disturbed my reading to ask me to help her grate some carrots. It took me 15 minutes to rise from my chair and walk in slow motion to the door leading out of the bedroom and onto the kitchen. By the time I got there, the request changed to if I could separate the uncooked lumpia wrappers one by one. I told myself this could be a chance for a meditative exercise, and it was.

Our cutie

Sukiyaki by CHAYA Baguio

Toddler feeding herself

Sushi madness

Last night, my foodie apo messaged me on FB, inquiring what we had for brekkie, lunch and dinner. I answered straightaway: brekkie, champorado with milk donated by the barangay; lunch, lumpiang Shanghai; and dinner, salmon sinigang.

"Awwww," she responded. I realized those were all her favorites, prepared for her lovingly by doting grumpa Rolly Fernandez and her mother Kimi. Second realization was how blessed we were to have three filling meals a day as the quarantine continues to enhance hunger pangs among the majority.

I'm not promising a changed me who will suddenly embrace kitchen chores. But I vow to always have a clean plate after meals.

Photos show a younger Kai at our favorite Japanese restaurant, CHAYA Baguio, where we love the sukiyaki and sushi, where we cap our meals with matcha ice cream.

Here's to more unlocking of the pleasures of the palate while time is on our side.