Roots & Reicpes - Essay Draft

My Mother's Pinakbet

By Sharmaine Sebastian

Usually every Monday, as I walk through the main door of my house, I hear the chopping of string beans, garlic, and ginger. And I knew that my mom would be cooking her favorite dish today, Pinkabet. I have to say that this is my favorite Filipino dish too, next to pancit.

I go to the kitchen, dropping all of my bags and books to the floor, smelling the aroma of squash, okra, eggplant, tomatoes, and bitter melons being boiled in bagoong. I used to hate that smell as a kid, but I got over it and learned to love it. My mother greets me with a sweet hello, and I smile back at her knowing that in about half an hour, those veggies would be melting in my mouth.

You know, I never did see my mom use measuring utensils before. And to this day, I’m still confused about how my mom would know when the food is done without a timer, or even how she would know that the taste is perfect, that it might need something to give it that zing.

I shuffle back and forth from my room to the kitchen. The sizzling bite-size pieces of pork that would soon be put into the pinakbet, were being sautéed in the frying pan. I saw my mother add a cup of water to the boiling pot. She lifted the cover and steam flew out of the pot, along with the different savory scents of the dish. I could already smell the garlic, ginger, and bagoong.

It is 5:30 p.m. and I had just finished all my homework. I attempt to distract myself from what awaits me at the dinner table. I hear my stomach growling. I try to stop it by eating a piece of bread, but it just wouldn’t keep quiet.

I help my grandma set up the dinner table (it was all part of the plan to distract myself). My mother goes to the stove, grabs the pot, and places it on the table. She tells me to call all of our family to come up and eat. I became so annoyed because they took forever to walk up the stairs.

We’re all together now and my grandma removes the top of the pot. “Yummy” was all I could think of as the sight of squash, string beans, okra, eggplant, tomatoes, bitter melons, and shrimp came into view. Each of us took spoonfuls and poured it on our plates. I could hear the sound of satisfaction from the people around me as I take a bite of the soft eggplant and the green string beans. It melted in my mouth like I knew it would. I tried to make my plate last because I knew that if I went back for seconds, there would be nothing in the pot when I get there.

Every time my mother makes pinakbet, I wonder if she’d teach me how to make it someday. I only helped her once, and only once! That kind of disappointed me because I knew that I could’ve done more than just wash the vegetables. I think the reason is that my mom is very, let’s say “protective” of her dish. I guess she didn’t want me to ruin it. But anyway, I know that she’s going to teach me how to make pinakbet. It’s a tradition and I’ll be sure to carry it on.