Remembering Mommy

1 11 2014

THERE ARE moments in my childhood that have stayed with me for like, forever.  No matter how far my road leads me from where I started, I thank my memories for always bringing me back.

I am the self–proclaimed guardian of traditions – I almost said Galaxy! – when my brothers and I were little.  I participated in all the Roman Catholic feasts and I always tagged along with Mommy, my maternal grandmother.  We were together for Night Masses at Christmas time, and the procession at dawn on Easter Sunday.  On a day like today, November 1ST, we would’ve gotten up quite early to go to the cemetery to pay our respects at my grandfather’s tomb, which we would’ve tidied up a few days before.

It’s been a year and a half since she had passed.  And today I remember her.  Not that I don’t think about her often.  Because I still do.  And I do love the fact that I always see her in my dreams.  In all those dreams, I’d be very much aware that she is already gone – she actually points it out sometimes – but each has always been a cheerful meeting.

And like the proper lady that she has always been, she’d say towards the end, “I’ve got to go.”

I miss you, Mommy.

I travel with a number of choice photographs.  A couple of them are shown here.  That's favorite photo of Mommy, side by side with that of one of her great grandchildren.  This was taken from my desk somewhere in Boise, Idaho.

I travel with a number of choice photographs. A couple of them are shown here. That’s favorite photo of Mommy, side by side with that of one of her great grandchildren. This was taken from my desk somewhere in Boise, Idaho.

 

My most recent quiet time with Mommy.  Well, outside the realm of my dreams.

My most recent quiet time with Mommy. Well, outside the realm of my dreams.

 

When I'd visit her before, she would make it a point to ask, "Anong relo suot mo?" ("What watch are you wearing?")  I know, she sounds like the Fashion Police.  I know exactly which her favorite wrist watch was.

When I’d visit her before, she would make it a point to ask, “Anong relo suot mo?” (“What watch are you wearing?”) I know, she sounds like the Fashion Police. I know exactly which her favorite wrist watch was.

 

"Hi Mommy, I miss you.  By the way, it's a Technomarine I'm wearing to see you today."

“Hi Mommy, I miss you. By the way, it’s a Technomarine I’m wearing to see you today.”

 

"Mommy, let's take a selfie together."

“Mommy, let’s take a selfie together.”

 

“Well, it’s time to go, Mommy. I’ll see you again next time. Or let’s meet and chat again in my dreams!”

Copyright © 2014 by eNTeNG  c”,)™©’s  MunchTime™©.  All rights reserved.





Fresh greens to zoozh up the red

1 11 2014

I HAVE played with my angel hair pomodoro recipe so often that it has come to erase whatever iota of doubt I may have had towards the theological concept of reincarnation.

 

My ANGEL HAIR POMODORO in one of its many incarnations, yet again.

My ANGEL HAIR POMODORO in one of its many incarnations, yet again.

I guess it is its simplicity that predisposes it to my fickle mindedness.  It calls for only a handful of ingredients – often always stocked up in my pantry and refrigerator crisper – that now it hardly feels like an actual recipe at all.  You can see just how often I have played with it by simply running a search in this blog.

Its latest manifestation calls for a generous sprinkling of fresh whole basil leaves.  This means cooking the sauce only up to the point when I will need to add the fresh basil leaves, which I would tear by hand (never chopped with a knife to prevent the blade from bruising this delicate herb).

What results from this change is a pasta dish with a balance so palpable that you’d savor the cooked goodness of fresh roma tomatoes that have broken down into the sauce, as the fresh basil leaves explode with freshness in your mouth with every crunch.

Each forkful of this pasta dish is the perfect balance of al dente angel hair, perfectly cooked sauce of fresh roma tomatoes, and perfectly crunchy fresh basil leaves.

Each forkful of this pasta dish is the perfect balance of al dente angel hair, perfectly cooked sauce of fresh roma tomatoes, and perfectly crunchy fresh basil leaves.

This is so good that I would never feel the need to reach for the wedge of Parmigiano–Reggiano and the vegetable peeler to shave paper–thin slivers of yumminess that can only come from hard, granular cheese from the area west of the river Reno.

It really doesn’t call for any added touch.

Having the basil still bright green adds to the enjoyment of having this angel hair pomodoro.

Having the basil still bright green adds to the enjoyment of having this angel hair pomodoro.

 

Of course, the requisite aerial shot of this edible work of art, a play of colors, textures, and flavors.  Parmigiano–Reggiano highly optional, totally unnecessary.

Of course, the requisite aerial shot of this edible work of art, a play of colors, textures, and flavors. Parmigiano–Reggiano highly optional, totally unnecessary.

Copyright © 2014 by eNTeNG  c”,)™©’s  MunchTime™©.  All rights reserved.