Here is one belated birthday gift I’d toss to myself. My fourteen-year-old self, to be precise.
Wrapped with a handwritten note, perhaps saying something like:
“While you are stifling yawns across that old lady and wondering if you were cursed to be stuck in such a useless class —check this book out and tell me it’s not nifty. And it’s not premature to say that one day these are things you’re gonna wanna do all day instead of the godforsaken deskjob you think you go to school for (they are fooling you; the office is worse than this).”
This wonderful book is available here, though currently they’ve run out of stock.
Alternatively, I’ve been enjoying and maximizing another housekeeping bible by the brilliant Gilda Cordero-Fernando. I am betting my bottom pesos that most of the Metro Manila-Catholic-Girls-School-bred bunch have encountered her other stuff on Filipino heritage and cookery. This one, on food and Luzon countryside living, has been essential in my own reorientation with the basics of home management, cooking, and tradition.
|When talk zeros in on what one has eaten and smelled simmering
in the old provincial kitchens, it unravels threads of memories —
how people knew then what good food was, how nature was provident,
how life was good.
Now before this swings toward the direction of housewife fantasies and the sort, I am just really glad that the stuff our mothers and their mothers would nag us about have been written, consolidated, preserved. After I quit my office job, the plan was for me to undergo some intensive training under the tutelage of our matriarchs. It was unfortunate and sad to find out most of our aunts and grandmothers had already passed.