Carmen Reyes Perez
January 1, 1916 - June 23, 2009

IN 2003, my world crashed. The career path that I was aiming for came to a dead end and I was at a total loss as to what to do. In my loss, I retreated to our family?s ancestral home in the humble town of Sta. Maria, Bulacan. There I was nurtured by a grandaunt who became my grandmother, my mentor and my friend, Nana Meng.

During this difficult time, I would always burst out in anger, cursing at the smallest things, such as the noise of barking alley dogs or the squealing of pigs about to be butchered for lechon. Nana Meng, who in turn was at a loss on how to calm me down, would just look at me and quietly offer food.

It turned out to be a far more powerful approach than if she had scolded me. Embarrassed by her generosity and distracted by her delicious cooking, I would calm down and concentrate on her food as the annoying sounds of the barrio dogs and near-death pigs faded away.

I lived with her for six months. We were roommates. We would have breakfast together: pandesal from the local baker and kesong puti from the old lady who would personally route the cheese every other morning. Then lunch of whatever fish or meat she fancied that day at the market. Then supper, which usually involved a kind of sinigang, sometimes with tamarind, sometimes with guava. I would read into the wee hours of the morning and usually at 3 a.m., she would wake up, have a cup of milk which she never seemed to stop stirring, and then say her morning prayers. I couldn?t join her morning prayers because they were recited in deep Pilipino, and truth be told, I think she found it difficult praying with me, so she let me be with my books.

During my recluse, Nana Meng knowingly nourished me with her amazing slow food. She taught me to appreciate different kinds of local fish: from the not-so-common apahap and maliputo to the more common tuyo and galunggong. She taught me to eat carabao meat: pindang na kalabaw. She taught me how to eat frogs? legs in a very Filipino way: sinigang sa bayabas na palaka. One day I caught her holding a just-killed chicken with blood still on her hands, and she teased me by reaching out and pretending that she would wipe the chicken blood on me. I think the monsignor in the church heard my scream.

But unbeknownst to her, as she nourished me physically, she was also nourishing my spirit. Because in the time that I had spent with her and with the knowledge that I had gained from her, without her doing anything but being herself and cooking just what she had learned from her parents, she gave me a new path to tread in life.

I had a new passion: I wanted to share with the world the wonderful flavors that Nana Meng had exposed me to in that short length of time I had spent with her in Bulacan.

I wanted to bottle and sell the tsokolate. And the kesong puti. And the achara and the ube halaya. I said these thoughts aloud and the cooks of the house laughed at me. But Christmas that year, with the encouragement of my friend Lala Ticzon-Santos, Nana Meng?s Kitchen was born, and the food that I had eaten at Nana Meng?s kitchen in Sta. Maria was now something that I was sharing with the world.

Nana Meng never encouraged me too much to develop this business. But she was always present at every store opening and always available for consultation when I needed help. As a food writer, I would always find myself calling her to double check, ?Nans, ano ulit ang ingredients ng tinumis?? ?Nans, ano ang binubuhos sa baboy para maging lechon?? ?Nans, gaano katagal bago magawa ang achara? [Tell me again, what are the ingredients for tinumis? How do you braise pork to turn it into lechon? How long does it take to make pickles?]? And she would always have an answer ready for me, not from the Internet, not from books, but from what she knew from living as a real gourmet every day of her life, without air or ego.

Her one great joy was going to the market in the mornings. before or after the 6 a.m. Mass. Even when she was beginning to feel weak at 90, she would still find the strength to indulge her pleasure of going to the market. It made her day. Then she would cook with Aling Belen, Ka Tage, Ka Leonor and Ka Nene and just hang around the kitchen the rest of the day until it was time again to pray at 6 p.m.

Her example has made me realize that ultimately the key to a beautiful life is simply nourishing your body and nourishing your soul. And Nana Meng performed these two tasks everyday, consistently and outstandingly.

Nana Meng passed away last Tuesday, June 23, at 93. I have lost a grandmother, a mentor, and a friend.

I am sure a lot of you have your own Nana Meng. That grandmother whom you would turn to not only for food but for comfort on days when the sun does a good job hiding. So you would know that losing this person is the most depressing thing on earth. The sadness is so heavy, even the best brownies can't ease the pain.

I will just have to find comfort in the fact that at least while she was still alive, we were able to begin Nana Meng's Kitchen, which will make her legacy reach beyond the boundaries of Sta. Maria, Bulacan, to various points of the country and maybe even the world. Through Nana Meng's Kitchen, I hope that Nana Meng will live forever ? as she will in the hearts of all the nieces and nephews and grandchildren whom she loved and cared for as if they were her own.

Nana Meng we love you. And we will always remember you with this love.