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Kim chi a la Diablolo

‘TWAS a booze buddy gulping Cuba libre who spouted fears about a soft yet coiled steel feel about my hands… bundled phalanxes still ply out a fine right-slanted hand passing off as calligraphy or swift focused brush stroke in sumi-e… he needn’t be bothered by a show of such art and fact turning as artifact.

Naawitan ng bayaw, kim chi para sa kanyang misis na miss na miss na raw ang kakaibang himas-apoy sa dila ng aking timpla… pumapatak lang sa P150 ang halaga ng mga sangkap— napa cabbage, daikon radish, garlic chives, red hot chili peppers, ginger, garlic, shallots… a sprinkling of finely ground black peppercorns and julienned ginger in a syrup of native palm vinegar and palm sugar simmered below boiling point for the pickling solution.

Igugumon halos buong maghapon sa pakikipagbuno sa munting halo’t lusong—mortar and pestle—para magdikdik ng ihihilamos sa niluray na repolyo’t ginayat na labanos… aalimbukay ang mga nanggigitata sa tamis na gunita habang subsob sa ginagawa.

Ganoon din kasi ang paghahanda ng mga sangkap na sapak sa nilupak—nilagang manibalang na saba, asukal, mantekilya, kinudkod na niyog (mas angkop ang alangan o katamtaman ang tigas) at halos maghapong bayuhan sa lusong… habang masuyong nakamasid ang dilag na pinipithaya… hindi po pinipitpit kapag nakatihaya, “pithaya”
and Pathaya in Thailand both refer to the heart’s desire… the beloved, cherished, dear one.

Titimo hanggang sa kalamnan sa gulugod at balakang ang kahit mahinay, malamyos na bayo— halos walang humpay… sinusukat nga kasi ng dalagang pinipintuho kung may itatagal ka sa ganoong gawain… the show of stamina translates to staying power and stick-to-itiveness in a boudoir bout…

So enabling, ennobling simple yet sexy a rite of food preparation… why, it’s a mating ritual stripped bare of verbosity, just a sweet promise of fulfilling coition… matingkad ang lumulutang, pumapailanlang na pagnanasang makalupa sa paglulupak… tiyak na may maghahasik ng mga biro’t tudyong maanghang… malaman… and that explains why some belles still see this old geezer as a coveted, whew, sex object…

Kung haba-taba kay tatang, lalim-luwang kay nanang—bugtong na ang sagot nga’y halo’t lusong. Butas na nakabukaka, titigmak sa lagkit ng pulot-gata… bugtong pa rin na tungkol naman sa paglulupak.

Incessant pounding turns the incendiary mix of condiments into a slurry paste reeking of fragrances… halimuyak ng baba, eh… kahit sa ganitong payak na pagpitpit ng mga sangkap, mapanukso pa rin ang mga alaala ng mga mutyang “ala, eh.” Magiging sangkap sila sa inihahanda, sila na naghandog… naghain ng kani-kanilang luto ng diyos… thus, so much loving arousal and tenderness glowing goes into the homespun recipe…

This goes out to you, Willie Nelson whose beard I envisage while lapping at southern comforts… “To all the girls I’ve loved before… took pouncing, pounding at their doors… I’m glad they came and came, ‘twas such a naughty game…for all the girls I’ve loved before.”

And if swooning into song equals praying twice, the tedium of pounding is eased with a generous muttering of orisons, marking time with a pray-over on the task at hand… karaniwang orasyong pampoder ang inuusal, sasalin na sa sariling katawan at sasalin pa rin sa lutuing iginagayak sa galak…so much dopamine, endorphin, amygdaline, oxytocin… the hormones of tender loving and fulfilled feeling attends hands-on chores… so whenever a comely damsel couldn’t put a finger on the quaint taste of my kim chi morsel, why, I’d gladly return such a compliment… and put a finger in hers.

This… suffices as explanation for the soft yet coiled steel feel about my hands… the bundled phalanxes—108 which equals the number of beads in a Buddhist rosary-- still ply out a fine right-slanted hand passing off as calligraphy or swift focused brush stroke in sumi-e… a show of such art and fact turns as artifact.

Ay, so much beauty can pile up, be teased out of painstaking tasks…

Busy hands are sexy hands, with streaks of lightning veins and tons of work—not word—made flesh in them.

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