Dominique
By: Joe; Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada
The first time I ever tasted Kare-Kare, I was about nine years old. My mother prepared it for a big fiesta in our hometown. She was always so careful and methodical with her cooking—it’s from her that I first learned to appreciate not just good food, but the careful preparation that goes into it. Her kitchen was never haphazard; it was a place of order, respect, and love. Growing up in a large family that adored her dishes, it felt natural for me to want to learn. One of the very first recipes she taught me was Embutido, and I remember it being around Christmas time, our home alive with festive scents and laughter.
When I immigrated to the United States in the 60s, I tried to replicate her pancit recipe. I wanted to recreate the flavors of home, but it turned out terrible. I couldn’t get the ingredients that I needed—kalamansi, shrimp, which were hard to source at the time—so I ended up using only what I could find: celery, carrots, and other odds and ends that just didn’t deliver the same taste. Disappointed, I threw the whole thing out. I felt homesick, missing my mother’s cooking and our family’s celebrations around the dining table.
When my mother was still alive, our Christmas celebrations were a true spectacle. She decorated every corner of the house, hung special curtains, and put up the Christmas tree with such care. The entire day before everyone arrived from overseas, she would spend cooking, making sure everything felt like home. After I immigrated to Canada, I tried my best to return for the holidays, to be there for the warmth and love that she created. But when she passed away, and it happened during the Christmas season, the kitchen felt empty. The tree and the decorations were still there—her final gift to us—even though she wasn’t. It filled me with both joy and immense sadness.
Still, her legacy lives on. Now, Christmas in my own home is always a big affair. I decorate the entire house with lights, set up a big tree loaded with ornaments, and fill the air with the aromas of my mother’s recipes. My wife bakes suman and cassava cake, and I bring out the crowning jewel of our dessert table—my leche flan, just the way my mother taught me. Through the simple acts of mixing ingredients, tasting broth, and adjusting spices, I’ve found that love and culture are inseparable, each spoonful carrying the memory of home and family. I’ve tried to teach my daughters each recipe I know, so this memory lives on. My apo sits under the tree, staring at the lights, while asking his mama if he can open the gifts before Christmas. I wonder how many Christmases I’ll spend with him, if I’ll see him become a young man before I die.
In doing all of this, I keep my mother’s presence alive in my own family’s kitchen, one meal and ornament at a time.
Joe is a cookbook creator and has his own Filipino cooking Youtube series, both titled Filipino Cooking Made Easy. Joe has been cooking for almost all his life with rave reviews from his friends and family. He always had a passion for food which he developed at a young age watching his mother cook. People would order food from her during special events and now people order food from him during special occasions! Joe contributes Filipino recipes on Gastrofork’s Youtube channel. Joe can be reached on @Gastrofork (on all platforms).
Artist Links:
All platforms: @Gastrofork
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