The hubby and I have been married a little over a year, and already, we have been (temporarily) torn apart. His office sent him to a faraway place for seven weeks, leaving little old me alone to cry, kill cockroaches, cry some more, and order food for one.
Thankfully, I've gotten through the first half of his trip without any major mishaps. What have I learned so far?
* Our humble abode isn't fancy, but it definitely has become home in the short year we have been living here. Even if I frequently find myself staying over at the houses of family members (so I don't feel too alone), there's definitely no place like our tiny, dusty home.
* The hubby is my best friend and I am incredibly attached to him. Yeah, yeah, there's a little cheese in here. I am literally counting the days until he gets back. Why bother going out if he's not going to be with me? The idea of curling up in bed with a good book and ordering in sounds so much more appealing. Of course, I'm being a little melodramatic. Yes, even if I miss him terribly, I still do see the light of day and still communicate with other human beings on occasion.
* Technology is awesome. There are certain things that are easy to take for granted: smartphones, Skype, WhatsApp, Yahoo! Messenger, email, and the Internet. Of course, seeing the hubby on a small screen isn't the same as him being right in front of me, but it's definitely the next best thing.
* Cooking for one definitely isn't my cup of tea. I was never (and still am not) very talented in the kitchen, but the hubby and I do have to eat, right? Do I cook for myself now that the hubby is abroad? Most definitely not. Thank you, leftovers from mom's house. Thank you, McDonald's delivery.
Three weeks to go.
Saturday, October 20, 2012
Friday, April 6, 2012
Menu Planning
If there was one task I really stressed over during the first few months of being a wife, it would definitely be MENU PLANNING. You see, browsing through cookbooks may seem fun and exciting for other people--but definitely not for someone with zero skills in the kitchen.
I would hysterically flip through page after page of every single cookbook I owned, searching for a recipe that looked simple enough for me to attempt on my own. Recipes using ingredients that were completely foreign to me were a no-no, which limited my options drastically.
It didn't help that I wasn't gifted with a palette that allows me to just cook by feel and create sumptuous dishes without the aid of a cookbook. I NEEDED a recipe and I still do.
A few days before our first trip to the grocery store as a married couple, I painstakingly researched for dishes I could cook for our meals over the next few days--dishes that would impress the husband and make me the best wife ever. I worked on that week's menu for... a long time. When Sunday finally arrived, I brought my list with me and hoped for the best.
What I didn't foresee was that going to the grocery store on a Sunday night wasn't such a great idea. NONE of the meats I needed for my dishes were available, leaving me extremely close to tears because I had no idea what on earth I was going to do next. My grocery list was composed of the ingredients needed for that week's meals. Suddenly, my list was useless. I cannot accurately describe to you how frustrated, stressed out and utterly clueless I felt as I stood in front of the meat station.
In the end, we resorted to purchasing pre-marinated meats from my soon-to-be best friends, Magnolia Chicken Station and Monterey Meatshop. I learned a valuable lesson: to never grocery shop on a Sunday night again! :P
I'm happy to say that after several months, I've finally learned to enjoy menu planning. I've gotten ever so slightly more confident in the kitchen, and am always on the lookout for yummy (and easy) dishes to try. It helps greatly that my husband will eat anything and everything I put on his plate. :)
I would hysterically flip through page after page of every single cookbook I owned, searching for a recipe that looked simple enough for me to attempt on my own. Recipes using ingredients that were completely foreign to me were a no-no, which limited my options drastically.
It didn't help that I wasn't gifted with a palette that allows me to just cook by feel and create sumptuous dishes without the aid of a cookbook. I NEEDED a recipe and I still do.
A few days before our first trip to the grocery store as a married couple, I painstakingly researched for dishes I could cook for our meals over the next few days--dishes that would impress the husband and make me the best wife ever. I worked on that week's menu for... a long time. When Sunday finally arrived, I brought my list with me and hoped for the best.
What I didn't foresee was that going to the grocery store on a Sunday night wasn't such a great idea. NONE of the meats I needed for my dishes were available, leaving me extremely close to tears because I had no idea what on earth I was going to do next. My grocery list was composed of the ingredients needed for that week's meals. Suddenly, my list was useless. I cannot accurately describe to you how frustrated, stressed out and utterly clueless I felt as I stood in front of the meat station.
In the end, we resorted to purchasing pre-marinated meats from my soon-to-be best friends, Magnolia Chicken Station and Monterey Meatshop. I learned a valuable lesson: to never grocery shop on a Sunday night again! :P
I'm happy to say that after several months, I've finally learned to enjoy menu planning. I've gotten ever so slightly more confident in the kitchen, and am always on the lookout for yummy (and easy) dishes to try. It helps greatly that my husband will eat anything and everything I put on his plate. :)
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Perfect
After the wedding, the hubby and I were greeted with an overwhelming mound of presents from family and friends.
My cooking is nowhere near perfect, and our house is in desperate need of more than just a "little" cleaning. The one thing I can do for sure, however, is create perfect ice cubes for your drinking pleasure.
One of my favorite wedding presents was a pair of green ice cube trays given by one of my high school friends. Ice cube trays?! Now what's so exciting about that?
You see, these aren't just ordinary ice cube trays--they're actually magical. These nifty little things make sure that you produce ice cubes that are perfectly square. Yes, perfect ice cubes! Every. Single. Time.
My cooking is nowhere near perfect, and our house is in desperate need of more than just a "little" cleaning. The one thing I can do for sure, however, is create perfect ice cubes for your drinking pleasure.
Cheers to the little things we can do correctly!
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Ready to Eat
There are (a lot of) days wherein I don't feel like cooking dinner. Of course, this directly results in our not having anything to eat.
One night, I gave the hubby my version of irresistible, sad puppy eyes and told him I didn't really want to cook anything complicated. Could I please feed him junkfood instead?
Luckily, my husband and I love unhealthy food. It was incredibly easy to get him excited over a feast of disgustingly delicious and easy-to-prepare components. What was our delicious dinner made up of, you ask?
One night, I gave the hubby my version of irresistible, sad puppy eyes and told him I didn't really want to cook anything complicated. Could I please feed him junkfood instead?
Luckily, my husband and I love unhealthy food. It was incredibly easy to get him excited over a feast of disgustingly delicious and easy-to-prepare components. What was our delicious dinner made up of, you ask?
Spam, eggs and pan de sal
Instant noodles (Kalamansi flavor)
Deeeeeeelish.
Monday, January 9, 2012
Overcooked
On some days, I wonder why some things even exist. Today, the word "overcooked" is on the chopping block.
Prior to the wedding, my thoughtful friends and relatives advised me that I should turn to pasta when all else fails. However, these semi-kind friends and relatives forgot to tell me that when pasta is overcooked, everyone and everything becomes unhappy.
My husband becomes unhappy. I become unhappy. The pot I cooked my pasta in is unhappy. My clogged strainer becomes unhappy. I become even more unhappy because I have to clean the said pot and clogged strainer.
These so-called friends and relatives also forgot to mention a crucial detail: That "always firm pasta" exists. One afternoon, my mother finally told me about this magical pasta that doesn't get mushy--even when overcooked! Of course, I first had to serve her and the rest of my family an extremely, embarrassingly mushy pasta dish for her to remember to mention it to me.
I am happy to say that since that fateful day, my battle with overcooked noodles has been won. Unfortunately, my battle with meat is a completely different story.
I am annoyingly careful of the fact that I don't serve my husband dishes with uncooked meat. Every now and then, I grab a knife and fork and see if the meat is no longer bloody and if it is ready to be deemed edible.
My problem is this: In my exaggerated efforts to ensure that my meat is cooked, I always manage to cook it a little too long. Why is this? Is it because when I bite into the slightly rubbery meat, I think that it is still raw when it is actually already done? Is it because after my nth attempt at checking the meat, I decide to keep it on the stove for just "a little while longer?"
Is it possible to purchase magical meat that promises to "always stay tender and perfectly cooked?" If so, I'd really love it if someone would tell me.
Prior to the wedding, my thoughtful friends and relatives advised me that I should turn to pasta when all else fails. However, these semi-kind friends and relatives forgot to tell me that when pasta is overcooked, everyone and everything becomes unhappy.
My husband becomes unhappy. I become unhappy. The pot I cooked my pasta in is unhappy. My clogged strainer becomes unhappy. I become even more unhappy because I have to clean the said pot and clogged strainer.
These so-called friends and relatives also forgot to mention a crucial detail: That "always firm pasta" exists. One afternoon, my mother finally told me about this magical pasta that doesn't get mushy--even when overcooked! Of course, I first had to serve her and the rest of my family an extremely, embarrassingly mushy pasta dish for her to remember to mention it to me.
I am happy to say that since that fateful day, my battle with overcooked noodles has been won. Unfortunately, my battle with meat is a completely different story.
I am annoyingly careful of the fact that I don't serve my husband dishes with uncooked meat. Every now and then, I grab a knife and fork and see if the meat is no longer bloody and if it is ready to be deemed edible.
My problem is this: In my exaggerated efforts to ensure that my meat is cooked, I always manage to cook it a little too long. Why is this? Is it because when I bite into the slightly rubbery meat, I think that it is still raw when it is actually already done? Is it because after my nth attempt at checking the meat, I decide to keep it on the stove for just "a little while longer?"
Is it possible to purchase magical meat that promises to "always stay tender and perfectly cooked?" If so, I'd really love it if someone would tell me.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Brand New and Headstrong
The day after the wedding, the hubby and I came home to our home for the first time as Mister and Missus.
After hours of unpacking the first batch of wedding gifts and various boxes from home, we were pooped and very much ready to hit the sack. Then we realized that we were both extremely filthy, and neither of us wanted to sleep on our (brand new!) bed, mattress, pillows and sheets without taking a shower.
The solution should've been easy--except we realized that we didn't bring any towels from our (former) homes. That was our first problem. I mentioned to the hubby that we received a number of towels as wedding gifts, and he thought that it was just as good a time as any to use our (brand new!) washing machine and dryer.
The hubby bought a small sachet of detergent from the 7-11 located at the ground floor of the building. He then brought out the manual to the washing machine and proceeded to figure out the settings. I sat at the very edge of the bed and patiently waited for a towel. It was about 10pm.
The towels came out of the washing machine about an hour and a half later. Our next problem was that the towels were still soaking wet. The hubby popped the towels into the dryer and picked one of the quickest settings on the machine.
At some point, I dozed off. Yes, my filthy self was curled up at the very corner of the bed. About an hour later, the dryer sang its joyful tune. The hubby opened the dryer to find the towels...soaking wet. I vaguely remember the hubby waking me up to report that he was going to put the towels back in the dryer for a little while longer.
How did this sad little story pan out? Well, the hubby woke up my attractive, snoring self at about 1:30am with a towel in hand. It was slightly damp, but I didn't care.
After recounting our first-night-at-the-condo-adventure to family and friends over the next few days, several people told us that they would have just used the towels as they originally were: unwashed, stinky and fresh from the box.
Oh, yeaaaah. Why didn't we think of that?
After hours of unpacking the first batch of wedding gifts and various boxes from home, we were pooped and very much ready to hit the sack. Then we realized that we were both extremely filthy, and neither of us wanted to sleep on our (brand new!) bed, mattress, pillows and sheets without taking a shower.
The solution should've been easy--except we realized that we didn't bring any towels from our (former) homes. That was our first problem. I mentioned to the hubby that we received a number of towels as wedding gifts, and he thought that it was just as good a time as any to use our (brand new!) washing machine and dryer.
The hubby bought a small sachet of detergent from the 7-11 located at the ground floor of the building. He then brought out the manual to the washing machine and proceeded to figure out the settings. I sat at the very edge of the bed and patiently waited for a towel. It was about 10pm.
The towels came out of the washing machine about an hour and a half later. Our next problem was that the towels were still soaking wet. The hubby popped the towels into the dryer and picked one of the quickest settings on the machine.
At some point, I dozed off. Yes, my filthy self was curled up at the very corner of the bed. About an hour later, the dryer sang its joyful tune. The hubby opened the dryer to find the towels...soaking wet. I vaguely remember the hubby waking me up to report that he was going to put the towels back in the dryer for a little while longer.
How did this sad little story pan out? Well, the hubby woke up my attractive, snoring self at about 1:30am with a towel in hand. It was slightly damp, but I didn't care.
After recounting our first-night-at-the-condo-adventure to family and friends over the next few days, several people told us that they would have just used the towels as they originally were: unwashed, stinky and fresh from the box.
Oh, yeaaaah. Why didn't we think of that?
Monday, November 28, 2011
Undomesticated
I stepped into this marriage completely undomesticated. It's been three months now, and all I can say is that I've still got a LOT to learn.
One thing I am proud of is that I (attempt to) cook most of our weekday meals. Me: A person who, three months ago, had 0.0000001% cooking skills. At the very least, my attitude towards the kitchen has changed.
I'm not so scared of the kitchen anymore, nor am I as scared of using a knife. My heart no longer palpitates every time I need to think about what to serve the hubby for dinner. My food isn't exactly great, but at least it's edible. It's been three months, and we've had no (serious) cases of food poisoning.
Wifey Chronicles was created to document this never ending learning process of domestication I am going through. Being a missus is quite an adventure, and I can't imagine ever running out of things to talk about.
Cheers!
One thing I am proud of is that I (attempt to) cook most of our weekday meals. Me: A person who, three months ago, had 0.0000001% cooking skills. At the very least, my attitude towards the kitchen has changed.
I'm not so scared of the kitchen anymore, nor am I as scared of using a knife. My heart no longer palpitates every time I need to think about what to serve the hubby for dinner. My food isn't exactly great, but at least it's edible. It's been three months, and we've had no (serious) cases of food poisoning.
Wifey Chronicles was created to document this never ending learning process of domestication I am going through. Being a missus is quite an adventure, and I can't imagine ever running out of things to talk about.
Cheers!
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