Intro.
Food, since I was very young, has been one of the earliest and greatest loves in my life. And like most great loves, we have had our ups and downs, good and bad (Prominently during the awkward, hormonal teenage years where food was the enemy). But now as the edge of teenage angst wears off whilst I enter my semi-confusing young adulthood and the peak of my metabolism, food and I are reunited and it feels oh. so. good.
Like any traditional Filipino family, I was taught not only about the importance, but the wonders of food and the strong emotive connection we develop with it. Mealtime was usually the only time my parents could convince my brother and me to spend time with our family. And during those forty-five minutes (Intermixed with spoonfuls of guilt), we’d talk about our days while our parents reminded us to finish our plates (Because there were starving children back in the Philippines). Food was also an excuse for a get-together. Any get-together. Baptisms, farewells, welcomes, birthdays, illness, recovery, death. Something. Anything. And there was food.
We eat when we’re hungry. We eat when we’re happy. We eat when we’re sad. We eat when we want to gossip. We eat when we’re guilty. I think I was fed that the most. Food and guilt went hand in hand in my household.
“Are you coming home this weekend? I made you pasta. And fried rice. I know you don’t have time to cook for yourself. Are you coming home this weekend? We miss you! Your dad wants to see you. Are you coming home for church? I made you taho and bistek. Are you coming home?”
This is the typical conversation that occurs between me and my mother nowadays since I made the last minute decision to leave home. Any normal person would be a fool to turn down her cooking. I am a starving fool. Most of the time. Food and guilt. Food and guilt.
Don’t get me wrong, food and I have a healthy relationship (Now. I prefer not to relieve the years of ‘02-‘09). There’s nothing better than having a not-so-great day at work and coming home and having (And if I have the time)/making an awesome meal. Or awesome leftovers. Or going out with friends and finding a great restaurant that makes you want to come back to try something else on the menu or share with someone else.
Which brings me to what this is all about. DC isn’t exactly known as of the top culinary capitals of the US, but I’ve been to a couple of nummy (And not so nummy places), so I’ll be chronicling my savory exploits throughout the MD/DC/VA area, the good, the bad, the sweet, salty, and of course, the oh so yummy.
-S
