The Arayat Kitchen

The kitchen is the oldest part of my grandmother’s house: wooden slats as floors, thin rattan walls, a bamboo and nipa roof held up by hardwood pillars half-eaten by termites. At the far end facing the adobe steps are four clay stoves on a long hardwood table. Underneath are stacks of wood, clay pots, and tin pans; onions, garlic, tomatoes, and oil; bowls of rock salt and ground pepper; misshapen knives and worn-out cleavers; and a long bamboo tube. One of my most vivid childhood memories is watching my grandmother’s cook (aunt of my father’s present cook) puff through that long piece of bamboo to control the flames. Clay pots black with soot sat four in a row, filled with boiling meats, simmering rice, or frying vegetables.