When we were very young, my parents took us to Kimpura at least once a month for some Japanese chow. It was a real treat for us kids because Ma never cooked. It was always exciting to see a live person transform raw ingredients into actual food.
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It's a magic! |
So when Pop and I were in Greenhills the other day to buy a new cellphone for him that would work in Canada (long story), I said, "Let's go watch someone cook real food."
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Crispy salmon skin. They didn't have this in the 80s. |
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California temaki. It was a sign that I was grown up when I was allowed to order this for myself. |
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Nobody makes miso soup like Kimpura. Comfort in a bowl. |
Since the beginning of time, we would always order the same things. My father's not big on newfangled stuff.
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Mixed fried rice, sirloin steak, oysters and lobster tail. I die! |
Even the dessert was always, always the same.
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Pop contemplating his gulaman. |
Yez, you CAN go home again. Thank you, Daddy.