When I grow up…

9 May

When I was little, when I was asked the ultimate question of what I wanted to be when I grew up, my automatic answer was that I wanted to be a doctor.  I think that’s what most kids start with.  They want to be a doctor, a lawyer, a teacher, a policeman, an engineer.  I was feeding off what my parents thought was best for me.  In a way, I did want to be a doctor.  I was amazed at what my father was doing in his lab (he’s a geneticist), working with microscopes, treating slides, wearing lab coats.  He had this dark room where they developed pictures so that they could karyotype the chromosomes they’d taken pictures of.  I thought that was the coolest thing ever.

But then again, there was a part of me was more creative.  My Tita Migen insists that I declared that I wanted to be a painter (I don’t remember to be honest, but then again you don’t remember much of what you say out loud when you’re two years old, right?).  I remember having loads of fun playing with paints and I remember always looking forward to when my Tita Migen would let me use her art supplies.

What I remember most, though, is loving the ability to write.  Books were my constant companions.  Almost from the very beginning books were my source of entertainment.  My earliest memory was reading Lady Bird books and Little Golden books.  The first book I chose for myself was The Wolf And The Seven Little Kids.  I also loved the Childcraft book set that my parents bought for me.  When I got older, I loved being able to just write down my thoughts.  I remember that I started writing in my diary when I was 9.  That was the same year I’d “rewritten” the Little Match Girl for a Christmas school play.  When I was 13 or 14, my summer break was spent writing a Sweet Dreams-esque story (for those not in the know, Sweet Dreams was a young adult romance book series published by Bantam Books in the late 70s to early 90s, at least I think that was when they started printing the books!  I was positively addicted to them!).  I remember lugging around this notebook where I wrote poems, as there was a period where I fancied myself a poet.

Now, baking and cooking have become a passion.  I love going through all my recipe books and trying out recipes.  I’m actually writing down all the recipes I learned while watching my mom and my aunts cook.  It’s another thing I’ve always been doing.  I’d always been fiddling with things in the kitchen.  One of my earliest memories was watching my mom come home from her regular early Saturday  morning market trip and watching her put away the food and start prepping Saturday lunch.  I remember pretending to host cooking shows when I was in elementary school while I talked through what I was doing in the kitchen (although, I now know that sautéed green beans with eggs in pink food colouring would never be Michelin-star type food!).

I think now that I know myself better, in a perfect world with perfect opportunities, I’d be a food writer kind of person.  I would make a living out of my three greatest passions:  food, writing, and books.  In a perfect world.

And now…am off to buy that winning lottery ticket!  Haha!


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