As I talked to my mom about leche flan, a memory went through my mind. Suddenly, I was walking through the front door of my childhood home. Picture this: the cool, night air surrounding us, and a bright light, enabling us to see our Christmas tree, which was beautifully decorated with silver and blue trinkets, my parent's favorite colors. My brother and I played and laughed until our stomaches ached, and my older cousins locked themselves in a room because they didn't want us to peek at our gifts. It was the perfect scene for Christmas Eve.
When I stepped into the kitchen, I couldn't help but smile. It smelled amazing. My grandmother placed the honey glazed ham into the oven, my uncle put rich, creamy butter onto slices of garlic bread, my dad stirred the pot of boiling spaghetti sauce, and my mom mixed condensed milk and egg, which was to be used for leche flan. That was when I decided to help my mom. I watched as she melted sugar in a pot. It took a lot of patience, but my mom didn't seem to mind. I asked her why she didn't mind making such a time consuming dessert. "It brings back memories of my childhood," she told me.
I was playing a game with my cousins and brother, until I heard, "DINNER'S READY!" I ran down, and the smell of sweet and slightly spiced ham, garlic, and spaghetti sauce wafted up my nose. When dinner arrived, a smile lit up on everyone's faces, followed by an exasperated shout of, "Finally!" And then, my family and I dug in. We talked, we laughed, and of course, we all ate. That was probably the closest my family was in a very long time. Although when dessert arrived, everyone was even more excited. We had a chocolate cake, decorated with my grandmother's frosting, buko pandan, which is a mixture of coconut meat, pandan flavored jello, tapioca pearls, condensed milk, and cream; which act as fillers. We had a few more desserts come in, and finally, the leche flan came in. It was in it's usual oval shaped pan, which was then turned over a plate, revealing the melted sugar over it. It looked gorgeous.
I placed some onto my plate, and took a bite of it. the milky, creamy, taste ran over my mouth, followed by the caramel-like taste of the sugar. More memories flashed into my head. I remember the first time I tried it. When I was 4, my family visited my aunt's house, and at first, I didn't like it, but as more family gatherings and parties passed, I grew to like the wibbly, wobbly, jelly-like dessert. "Mom, how did you learn how to make this?" I asked. "When I was a kid, I watched my uncle make leche flan, and I wanted to make this for my future family and friends, so I asked him to teach me," she replied. And then I realized that I'd finished my slice. I immediately took a second.
Reality all of a sudden snapped back to me, and I thought, why not learn the recipe now? I asked my mom to teach me how to make it, and even though my first time making it wasn't as good as my mom's, I'm going to continue to work at my leche-flan-making skills, and hopefully someday, I could make it as well as my mom does it.
Friday, August 31, 2012
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Roots and Recipes Draft
As I talked to my mom about leche flan, a memory went through my mind. Suddenly, I was walking through the front door of my childhood home. Picture this: the cool, night air surrounding us, and a bright light, enabling us to see our Christmas tree, beautifully decorated with silver and blue trinkets, which were my parent's favorite colors. My brother and I were playing and laughing until our stomaches ached, and my older cousins locked themselves in a room because they didn't want us to peek at our Christmas gifts. It was the perfect scene for Christmas Eve.
I remember bugging my mom, dad, grandmother, uncle, and cousins about what they were doing. I was very spoiled, impatient, and pig-headed. Although once I stepped into the kitchen, I couldn't help but smile. It smelled amazing. My grandmother was placing the honey glazed ham into the oven, my uncle putting rich, creamy butter onto slices of garlic bread, My dad stirring the pot of boiling spaghetti sauce, and my mom was mixing condensed milk and egg, which was to be used for leche flan. That was when I decided to help my mom. I watched as she melted sugar in a pot. It took a lot of patience, but my mom didn't seem to mind. I asked her why she didn't mind making such a time consuming dessert. "It brings back memories of my childhood," she told me.
I was playing a game with my cousins and brother, until I heard, "DINNER'S READY!" I ran down, and the smell of sweet and slightly spiced ham, garlic, and spaghetti sauce wafted up my nose. The light was a lot dimmer, though. Only one light was on, although you could still see that not a foot of the house was covered in Christmas decorations. It was the type of scene that I'd go back to at anytime of the year. That night was absolutely perfect.
When dinner arrived, a smile lit up on everyone's faces, followed by an exasperated shout of, "Finally!" And then, we dug in. We talked, we laughed, and of course we all ate, but there was something out in the air. That was probably the closest my family was in a very long time. Although when dessert arrived, everyone was even more excited. We had a chocolate cake, beautifully decorated with my grandmother's frosting, buko pandan, which is a mixture of coconut meat, pandan flavored jello, tapioca pearls, condensed milk, and cream; which act as fillers. We had a few more desserts come in, and finally, the leche flan came in. It was in it's usual oval shaped pan, which was then turned over a plate, revealing the melted sugar over it. It looked gorgeous.
I placed some onto my plate, and took a bite of it. the milky, creamy, taste ran over my mouth, followed by the caramel-like taste of the sugar. "Mom, how did you learn how to make this?" I asked. "When I was a kid, I watched my uncle make leche flan, and I wanted to make this for my future family and friends, so I asked him to teach me," she replied. And then I realized that I'd finished my slice. I immediately took a second.
Although before I could finish, my family's clock struck 12 o'clock, and I was surrounded by a chorus of "Merry Christmas!" I laughed and joined in.
I remember bugging my mom, dad, grandmother, uncle, and cousins about what they were doing. I was very spoiled, impatient, and pig-headed. Although once I stepped into the kitchen, I couldn't help but smile. It smelled amazing. My grandmother was placing the honey glazed ham into the oven, my uncle putting rich, creamy butter onto slices of garlic bread, My dad stirring the pot of boiling spaghetti sauce, and my mom was mixing condensed milk and egg, which was to be used for leche flan. That was when I decided to help my mom. I watched as she melted sugar in a pot. It took a lot of patience, but my mom didn't seem to mind. I asked her why she didn't mind making such a time consuming dessert. "It brings back memories of my childhood," she told me.
I was playing a game with my cousins and brother, until I heard, "DINNER'S READY!" I ran down, and the smell of sweet and slightly spiced ham, garlic, and spaghetti sauce wafted up my nose. The light was a lot dimmer, though. Only one light was on, although you could still see that not a foot of the house was covered in Christmas decorations. It was the type of scene that I'd go back to at anytime of the year. That night was absolutely perfect.
When dinner arrived, a smile lit up on everyone's faces, followed by an exasperated shout of, "Finally!" And then, we dug in. We talked, we laughed, and of course we all ate, but there was something out in the air. That was probably the closest my family was in a very long time. Although when dessert arrived, everyone was even more excited. We had a chocolate cake, beautifully decorated with my grandmother's frosting, buko pandan, which is a mixture of coconut meat, pandan flavored jello, tapioca pearls, condensed milk, and cream; which act as fillers. We had a few more desserts come in, and finally, the leche flan came in. It was in it's usual oval shaped pan, which was then turned over a plate, revealing the melted sugar over it. It looked gorgeous.
I placed some onto my plate, and took a bite of it. the milky, creamy, taste ran over my mouth, followed by the caramel-like taste of the sugar. "Mom, how did you learn how to make this?" I asked. "When I was a kid, I watched my uncle make leche flan, and I wanted to make this for my future family and friends, so I asked him to teach me," she replied. And then I realized that I'd finished my slice. I immediately took a second.
Although before I could finish, my family's clock struck 12 o'clock, and I was surrounded by a chorus of "Merry Christmas!" I laughed and joined in.
Friday, August 10, 2012
Roots and Recipes Brainstorm
I'm going to do leche flan. Basically, it's a flan, with caramel sauce over it. I'm interviewing my mom for this project.
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