Chapter SevenSalabat
fresh ginger
3 cups of water
2 to 3 tablespoons of brown sugar
Manang’s song
Manang doesn’t like buying off-the-shelf salabat powder when she makes herself a cup. She’d say it’s nothing like her brew, and I kind of believe her. She’d say the salabat loses its potency when it’s been made by foreign hands. The taste wouldn’t be as strong and robust. There wouldn’t be enough kick to it, she’d say. I don’t completely buy it, but there’s something about the conviction in Manang’s loud, hoarse voice that makes me think that maybe there’s a hint of truth in what she says. If it’s even possible, I swear I can taste Manang’s sincerity in every dish she makes.
I like watching Manang brew. I like watching her cook in general, sashaying in the kitchen with her big hips, bump
