We tend to forget things that have happened to us back when were very young. Those memories are locked in a vault somewhere where everything goes, much like an eternal hard drive we wish we could just open from time to time to see what we were doing before cynicism and other adult problems invaded our lives.
My earliest childhood memory is of me and my mother planting kamote (sweet potato) tops up on a mountain in Easter Samar. Maybe it was just a hill but for the three year old me, that was a steep climb on a mountain that resembled an expedition to Everest. I don’t know why it’s the thing that I always remember, we were dirt poor Warays who welcomed the arrival of typhoons as the norm, planting talbos ng kamote was to make sure that we’ll have food on our table. My mother use to tell our relatives, which she actually still does until now, that the reason why I don’t like living in our province was because “walang kanin doon” (there’s no rice there)
I don’t plant camote tops anymore but it will always be my comfort food, cooked in coconut milk (probably anything cooked with gata), I would choose it over caviar or any of those trendy dishes. And as a friend said it should be paired with fried galunggong, the small ones are the best as you can eat everything including the tinik (bones), now who would be sad when you can eat such simple but delicious fare?
Till my next rant. Peace and stay fresh.