the cooking goddess fights for her throne
while cooking lunch today, i was reminded of a little fight (ok, not really a fight but a small argument), that i had with my mother several weeks ago when she was in my flat for a few days for her monthly medical check-up in the city. she doesn't trust the doctors (read: albularyos or the so-called quack doctors) in her queendom, so she makes it a point to drop by my fiefdom and consult the medical practitioners -- who got their phds in harvard and other ivy leagues -- here. %%%%%%% i was famished when i reached my flat at around seven in the morning from a party that lasted through the wee hours. since the old witch was in the bathroom doing whatever it is that eighty year olds do in the privacy of that tiny room for hours, i decided to just prepare my own breakfast: fried rice, sunny side ups, and whatever was left from the previous night's dinner. i saw adobo on the table. yum! after a few hours, when she emerged from the bathroom smelling of my kiehl's her...