This man's stomach
Browsing my blog one evening after a particularly heavy takeout dinner, my man asked me why I have never blogged about his appetite.
"I thought you didn't like me blogging about you."
"But you blog about me all the time."
"Not all the time."
"According to one comment, your blog has become Maryanne Moll's Man's Adoration Site."
"And you don't like that?"
"I like it a little," he said, and then he put down his beer and pulled me to him.
But really, he does eat a whole lot. I know how most Filipino men need one extra cup of rice to go with their restaurant-ordered meals, and my guy is no exception, except that he gets hungry every two hours. Like a newborn baby.
It does help his stomach, of course, that I live right in the middle of a busy, bustling street where most of the restaurants, grills, and food shops, and convenience stores are open twenty-four hours a day, or at least until midnight. Nine months into this relationship, we have already racked up a list of common food favorites, which includes home-style bangus from Pancake House, sizzling sisig with egg at Gustin’s Grill along Evangelista, all the lauriats from Chowking, quartered roast chicken from the San Miguel Food Shop, bopis, papaitan, and siopao bola-bola with vanilla ice cream. It’s a neverending discovery of new food and new food combinations, and we never have to do the dishes.
While it might be true that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, whoever said that never lived in a pad without a stove, and most likely never envisioned the modern-day lifestyle of a couple composed of soldier from an elite police force and a writer who goes to sleep at 3 a.m. and cannot cook to save her life. I got through to this man's heart anyway. I suppose he can do the cooking for the both of us, since I am assuming that he knows how to cook fairly edible meals, but we never actually thought of doing that, and he got through to my heart as well.
What has love got to do with cooking, anyway? It’s so much more fun to canoodle than mince vegetables. You can quote me on that.
"I thought you didn't like me blogging about you."
"But you blog about me all the time."
"Not all the time."
"According to one comment, your blog has become Maryanne Moll's Man's Adoration Site."
"And you don't like that?"
"I like it a little," he said, and then he put down his beer and pulled me to him.
But really, he does eat a whole lot. I know how most Filipino men need one extra cup of rice to go with their restaurant-ordered meals, and my guy is no exception, except that he gets hungry every two hours. Like a newborn baby.
It does help his stomach, of course, that I live right in the middle of a busy, bustling street where most of the restaurants, grills, and food shops, and convenience stores are open twenty-four hours a day, or at least until midnight. Nine months into this relationship, we have already racked up a list of common food favorites, which includes home-style bangus from Pancake House, sizzling sisig with egg at Gustin’s Grill along Evangelista, all the lauriats from Chowking, quartered roast chicken from the San Miguel Food Shop, bopis, papaitan, and siopao bola-bola with vanilla ice cream. It’s a neverending discovery of new food and new food combinations, and we never have to do the dishes.
While it might be true that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, whoever said that never lived in a pad without a stove, and most likely never envisioned the modern-day lifestyle of a couple composed of soldier from an elite police force and a writer who goes to sleep at 3 a.m. and cannot cook to save her life. I got through to this man's heart anyway. I suppose he can do the cooking for the both of us, since I am assuming that he knows how to cook fairly edible meals, but we never actually thought of doing that, and he got through to my heart as well.
What has love got to do with cooking, anyway? It’s so much more fun to canoodle than mince vegetables. You can quote me on that.
posted by Maryanne Moll | 2:09 PM
2 Comments:
i beg to disagree, canoodling and mincing vegetables (not necessarily at the same time, though) is actually better.
Hi, honey. Thanks for the comment. See you later! :)
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