Ginataang Kamoteng Kahoy

I almost cannot understand the quiet affinity of Tatay to a sweet type of porridge. First off – porridge may not be the correct term for this dish, but for the lack of a better one (I would accept suggestions), I will use this word to describe the soft pudding made by boiling root crops with coconut milk.

He has never managed to succeed in concocting the correct proportion of ingredients. Taro, Palaw-an, cassava, white sugar, brown sugar, fake sugar from Indonesia, bottled water, tap water, water from the pump at the back of the house, canned coconut milk, real coconut milk from grated coconut, and salt; these are the main elements that comprise his backyard research into the divine combination. He would choose among these ingredients and combine them to create something that he thinks will taste acceptable. I will not be fair if I will not mention that his choice may be influenced by economics, seasonality, and sheer availability of an element in the nearby semi-palengke. Variations of his culinary experiments would comprise of including lemon grass; introduction of large amounts of ginger; would sometimes intentionally and unintentionally burn the bottom of the pot for that extra burnt taste; diminish the root crop to a pulp by over cooking in slow heat; he would sometimes cook with gas and sometimes with wood; and sometimes, just on rare occasions he would talk to the ingredients and convince them that it is only them and not the creator which has the power to make the sweet porridge pleasing. I can almost hear him saying “Oh gabi, galingan mo ha, katamtaman lang ang lambot. Ikaw naman gata, ilabas mo ang tunay mong linamnam, para masarapan ang mga anak ko at si Nanay”!

His lack of epicurean creative triumph is compensated by his authority as a father. Every time he would announce he has “cooked the newest combination of the most delicious food” ever to have boiled in our Alabang home, we will all be compelled to taste it and express appreciation.

I would take my share and finish soon, and say the mandatory “ang sarap Tay” without hesitation. Mar would always have a way to wait and gauge the appeal by the look on my face before he takes his share. Oni, present most of the time in the backyard cooking experiments and due mostly to his indiscriminating taste buds, cannot determine the truth despite of his strong philosophy inclination. Chanel would eat the porridge with closed eyes. Perhaps, thinking everything will just be okay once the parade of bowls has ended.

The only just judge is Tatay’s lifetime partner. She has neither reason to be pleasant nor the time to willy-nilly on the verdict. “Kulang sa …” or “Sobra sa ….” would be Nanay’s opening words.

It is raining lightly, in one of the afternoons of our comfortable lives. Mar would go back to his assignments. Nanay will go back to her laundry. Chanel will be watching TV (to which audio, Nanay will be listening). Oni will continue to appreciate the porridge while playing a Beatles tune on his old guitar. Tatay would have mixed feelings of a full stomach, a sweet mouth, and a slightly hurt ego. He would retire to his self-made condominium in the backyard and answer the ever easy Inquirer crossword (easy for him). I, meanwhile, will be taking the snapshot of that moment and try to learn wisdom. I do not think he gets offended by our reaction to the result of his experimentations. Perhaps he has known a long time before we have discovered that he has raised a good family, so good we will always appreciate his initiative to try.

The lesson I learned from this memory is the resilience of man.

He found a niche activity in which he can show some lessons to us all by never giving up trying. In the process of his culinary exploits he has begun to love the work attached to the task. He has probably grown stubborn in the idea of getting the correct combination.

No, he has not cooked an unpleasant porridge. He subliminally taught us resilience. The most valuable ingredient I forgot to mention earlier.

If I am mistaken and there is an afterlife, I am sure he is cooking there and convincing God, “Eto masarap na ito. Tikman mo, parang langit ang lasa”!