An Art Called Cooking | Arroz (Amor) Caldo

I love to cook. 

I also always had this secret desire to be a chef. Or at least be called one. And though I may not be one to be called as such, I am a Proud Mary.  Or better said, I had Proud Mary, the little café/diner past the strip of the more known restaurants and diners along Tomas Morato, Quezon City.

But that was a few years back, and though it is another story to write about, it is a beautiful one. 

A story that will always be a treasured segment of my life.

Coming back to my (present) life , things are way different now. And although it may not be the same as before, I’d like to say that it is still all good. 


After all, Life, for me, is always beautiful. And good. Always. Yet there are still some things that remain constant, amongst several other things about me.

I (still) love to cook.

I learned the art of cooking at a very early age. Being an only child, I am always a tag along company of my mom, so much so, that as early as four or five years old, I became her official kitchen buddy as she prepared every single meal that we ever had, from breakfast to lunch to dinner and everything else in between.