The Other Best Cook

If my wife were a blogger, she would surely write about the above topic. But since she's not into blogging, allow me to write about it on her behalf. Even without her permission.

There are actually three chefs in our house: my wife, my father, and...me! My wife can cook almost any viand with so much expertise but she cannot cook adobo as good as my father's. Even my own adobo version pales in comparison with that of my father's.

Since I leave most of the cooking chores to my wife, I seldom put into practice the cooking skills my mother had taught me. In case you didn't know, I was my mother's assistant cook in our small home-based canteen during my elementary and high school years.

When my wife is indisposed or has an appointment during weekends, the other best cook does the cooking. Not my father, but me. Sometimes, when I feel like cooking even if my wife is around during weekends, I volunteer myself to wear the apron and weave my magic in the kitchen. Like my wife's cooking that my children verbally appreciate, my own cooking is also appreciated openly by my kids, especially by my three-year-old baby who would utter: "Sarap luto mo, Papa!" That, certainly, is music to my ears.

Just three Saturdays ago, my eldest daughter told my wife that her fried rice tasted really good, without knowing that I was the one who cooked breakfast on that particular day. Although Clare did not tell me about it personally, I was flattered by her comment and inspired to repeat the performance in the following two Saturdays. Again, my own fried rice recipe elicited the same positive compliments.

What really is the secret to great cooking? Aside from the special ingredients and the willingness to experiment, it is the love you have for the people you cook for that makes it truly great. The appreciation one gets from his loved ones definitely serves as an inspiration to turn that simple cooking into a labor of love.

So, wanna try my cooking?