FN Blog - Seven heads are better than one!

Back in the ancient times of the 70s, where there was no internet, MTV or Cartoon Network to while my hours away, I entertained myself by reading. My favorite then was the Childcraft series, twelve volumes of books ranging from math to biology to botany to raising children. At eight years old, I had already read all the volumes, even the “Guide for Parents”, which taught me what to expect during puberty (which I blame for my obsession to get my period asap and the need to wear a bra at eight years old), how to successfully raise my future children and how to deal with marital problems (heh?).

I grew up on this series! Want to buy them again. Anyone who still has theirs, please sell to me : )

The Math book had about three pages with several vampires that you’re supposed to count. I found the vampire drawings too scary so I glued all of the three pages together so I never see them whenever I scan the pages. I also did EVERY SINGLE art project in the Arts and Crafts book. As in. I made the plastic cup with thread phone, the paper plate monster, even the cardboard box rocket ship, all by myself. But one thing that tickled my fancy, but I waited a while to try, was the Arrowroot plant that I read the Indians used to eat. It was in the Plants volume and there was an illustration of it being picked by an Indian, and a real picture of it on the side. One day, I saw something that seemed like an Arrowroot plant growing by the sidewalk outside our house! It really looked like the one in the book! So I waited for it to grow, and all the while imagined myself having food like the Indians. When the day came that the plant seemed big enough, I uprooted the plant (you’re supposed to eat the root), washed it, pounded the root with the same stone I used to make gumamela flower bubbles, and ate it.

Doesn’t this look like every other talahib in our esteros and canals?

You would think I would’ve had convulsions and permanent brain damage from eating an unknown plant, but all I got was a little dizzy. It turned out the plant wasn’t an Arrowroot plant, and even if it was, you’re supposed to dry it out in the sun and then make it into bread. And I chose to ignore the fact that it grew near the canal too, with all the icky stuff floating by. My Mom almost had a heart attack when she found out what I had eaten. But I was okay. Like little babies that fall out of bed with a loud thud, but still stay asleep.

Since then, one would expect that I would be more careful. But I then became obsessed with Wok With Yan on TV and started cooking my own food at ten years old. I once used up all of my mom’s 12 eggs to try and make homemade mayonnaise with just my hands and a whisk. I also tried to make lemon cupcakes with pan de sal and calamansi. It was so bad even our dog wouldn’t eat it. I even tried making broccoli with cream sauce. The sauce came out tasting like salt. Salt lang. But my Dad ate a little.

He got me started on cooking!

I think being silly comes from knowing that you might not know everything yet, but you still decide to try and do stuff anyway. It’s a little bit of ignorance mixed with whimsy, sort of an innocent mistake. And that’s not such a bad way to go through life if you think about it.