Growing up, I was always surrounded by the aroma of food cooking in our kitchen. My family loved hosting parties.
My dad would come up with any opportunity to throw a party and celebrate any occasion—even the blooming of the Tan Hua flower. He would invite his friends over and my mom would cook up a feast with the help of our trusted Yaya Julieta, whom she had trained for years. The food would always be home-cooked, never store-bought.
My mom is a great cook, and fond memories of her cooking in our kitchen will always be ingrained in my mind. Cooking is her love language, and she doesn’t mind how long it takes to buy the freshest ingredients and create the perfect meal.
I …
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