tinuwa nga isda

it’s 6:04 in the morning already. sun’s out. and i’ve been up since, i don’t know. 4:15? i’ve been having these insomniac episodes lately. falling in and out of sleep as restlessly as some people fall in and out of love.

i’m wrapped in this brown throw. it’s a cool morning. somewhat quiet, except for the birds chirping outside. then again, australia’s always kinda quiet. no motorcycle sounds; none of those chaotic humming of life buzzing in preparation for another day; no sound of fish vendors calling out your mom’s name for the freshest catch which your househelp cooks in a steaming bowl of fish soup which your dad wakes you and your sister up for breakfast for.

i don’t think it’s the locally grown tomatoes, ginger, and onions. i have those very same ingredients right here. but for some reason, tinuwa tastes so much different than i remember it back in cebu. i tell myself it’s the fish (you can’t beat the fresh ones back home) but i know it’s not about the dish itself as it is about the people on the table i was sharing it with.

all this emo-ness over a cebuano version of fish soup. maternal hormones can be a bitch. ha! my go-to scapegoat.

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4 thoughts on “tinuwa nga isda

  1. awww.. 🙂 hormones it is! although, I, too, never seem to find the perfect leche flan / hamonada taste like how my mama makes it. I don’t think I’ll ever will now. 🙂 But the great thing about this is, you can always make your own home-tasting stuff — that would have your family miss you for.

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