Inday regurgitated lunch. It happens, but in three installments on a single afternoon? Curious and more than a little furious, I hollered for the help. “What the hell have you been feeding the dogs?” I demanded.
“Nothing!” she said. “Well, I fried some of the mangsi (herring) your father brought from the market this morning, said it was for them.”
Of course. If anyone was to blame, it was me: since I came back from Cebu, I hadn’t stocked up on food, least of all for our canine companions. What’s wrong with herring, anyway? Fried to a crisp, they are more than okay — they’re delicious. I especially like the heads, which I crunch, bones and all.
But you weren’t there to see my dog’s distress. It was clear herring didn’t agree with her — as the Bisaya term goes, gikabuhi, otherwise known as acid reflux, but don’t quote me on that. Bottom line, Inday is senescent and sensitive (Palang was just fine). Deciding to find better use of the fish (Pa had bought several kilos’ worth), I cooked them sardinas-style.
That was a week ago. “What’s up with the sardines?” Ma asked yesterday. “Something wrong with it?”
“I dunno,” I replied. “Haven’t you had some?”
“Have you?”
Uh, I’ll keep you posted.
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