In The Mood for ‘Shrooms

Two weeks ago I bought a pack of mushrooms, the non-hallucinogenic kind. I got a sizable amount so when my mom warned me they’re about to spoil, I couldn’t ask her to just throw them out.

The soon-to-spoil ‘shrooms were enough to force me out of bed on a chilly Sunday noon. Not that I cared too much about these ‘shrooms; I just needed a reason to get up and quit lazing around.

The decision to hang in the kitchen was borne out of necessity, as usual. When I used to live alone, the only sensible recourse was to cook my own food and not waste money eating out. Same thing when I decided to stop eating meat — there’s no way I would force everyone in my life to go vegetarian just because I wanted to be one.

Sometimes I also feel an uncharacteristic desire to cook, usually because I want to try a new dish, or I want to re-create a dish that I previously enjoyed. This is a rarity though, because I am very lazy and I always let big i Indolence get the best of me.

But today I blamed the mushrooms.

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I missed supper

Tonight, I forgot to feed
myself. I blame Barthes
and his Mythologies,
also Rachel
and our Friends.
Skyflakes truly
is a godsend
heeding prayers of achy tummies
since the 1960’s. Viva
Monde MY San!
Should I make coffee too?
But it’s 10 and my
tomorrow starts at 7.
I will skip breakfast,
meal for the wuss not the tardy
Hunger is for the weak—
oh shit,
I’m hungry.
Now why in the world
am I writing in verses?
Is it the hunger that pushes me
to pull—rather desperately—
a Ginsberg or a Bukowski?
Or even an O’Hara
‘cos I’d really like to have a Coke with
or without fries.
I suck at this, I know,
but even Leav’s bangs has fans
so who knows.
Reminds me of a windy Friday noon
September of last year
when I cut my hair short
really short the strands dangle
like hushed wind chimes
a nervous inch atop my shoulder.
Straight too
no layers
expecting to be the cherubic
yet sultry Lauren Tsai
only to find in the mirror a child
a 10-minute shower later
and she said hola soy Dora
the Explorer.


Baked Honey Soy Chicken


Recipes are just suggestions. The list of ingredients does not have to be completely checked off and one doesn’t have to be pedantically strict in following the suggested portions. Maybe it’s just the lazy-ass in me talking, but I was able to bake this mean honey soy chicken armed with no less more than a “just wing it” attitude.

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Pig out


I don’t eat pork. But sometimes, when situations call for it, I break this rule and get my share of swine sustenance every now and then.

I was really young when my mom converted to a certain religion that bans pork diet. Years later, even when mama has stopped going to church, we still don’t eat pork at home.

Visiting friends’ houses when I was younger was particularly stressful. Upon learning that I couldn’t eat kare-kare or crispy pata, my friends’ parents would quickly concoct a no-pork meal that usually involved Ligo sardines or Argentina corned beef. I never had bacon, isaw or sisig until much later in life.

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Spicy Tofu with Spinach and Bell Peppers

A couple days ago, I decided to cook and I took pictures while I was at it. I just bought tofu from Save-On and thought, hmm, maybe I should stir-fry the shit out of it and add spinach and yellow peppers (read: the only veggies in our fridge that go well with stir-fried shit).

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