Hi. I hope you’re still here. Because I am. I always have been in a way.
All throughout these past months of little sleep, of no respite, of tiredness and sadness. Of trying to get by, trying to make sure everything was at least a decent amount done. Of squeezing in work, and children, and food, and a household…while watching my father leave this world. As I knew he was. As I always knew. Even when people gathered around with extra loud voices – as if the volume of it could somehow push the sickness away – I stood by and did what I needed to do. I watched, I spoke to doctors and nurses, I updated family members. Rinse, repeat. I whispered in his ear that I loved him, because I felt that was the most important thing he needed to hear. If everything else was left unsaid it was ok, that I loved him was enough. I cherished each time when he would respond, and say it back, and told my heart that it was ok if this was the last time. So when it was really the last time, and the days to follow held no response, no “saying back”, it was ok. And I continued to do what needed to be done. In companionable silence. And people’s foreheads knitted in worry, hands were wrung, and tears were spilled. I looked at them almost as if watching from afar. Shook my head and went about my business. There were things to be done, and I did them. Until the end. And truth be told, until now.
Grief. They say it comes to us in different ways…and it’s true. I have certainly shed some tears. But how do we measure our grief? Is it in tears? In the days we can’t get out of bed? The days of being inconsolable? I can’t say. There are things that need to be done, and I do them. I feel sadness like an old wound, humming a bit every now and then. Is this grief? I used to go to bed in fear, that I would wake up and “real grief” would arrive, and attack me with a vengeance. Punishing me for having let others cry in my stead. But I’ve stopped being scared. There is too much life yet to be lived. If there is one thing that my father has taught me it is to live life to the fullest, and to follow your passions. So I go on, doing what I do best, which is doing the things that need to be done. And if one day, weeks, months, or years from now, the grief arrives, big and dark and monstrous, then I’ll deal with it then.
Meanwhile, there are booboos to be kissed, books to be read, trips to be taken, birthdays to be celebrated, food to be cooked and to be eaten. There is work to be done, and a new year to experience. There is life to be lived.
Korean Beef Stew
(from Trissalicious, with some changes)
- 1 kilo beef short ribs (or short plate), cube cut
- 2 tablespoons vegetable oil
- 2 tablespoons dark soy sauce
- 2 tablespoons regular soy sauce
- 2 teaspoons sesame oil
- 5-6 spring onions, chopped
- 2 tablespoons minced garlic
- 1-2 teaspoons grated ginger (I use 1 because my daughter is not such a fan)
- 3 tablespoons brown sugar
- 2 tablespoons mirin
- 1 tablespoon gochujang
- 2 cups water
- 1 tablespoon toasted sesame seeds, to serve
- 2-3 spring onions chopped, to serve
- Optional: 1 tablespoon cornstarch diluted in 2 tablespoons cold water
– In a small bowl mix together the dark soy sauce, sesame oil, 5 spring onions, garlic, ginger, brown sugar, mirin, and gochujang. Set aside.
– Bring an oven-proof pot to medium high heat then add the oil.
– Season the beef ribs with salt and pepper.
– When the oil is hot add the beef to the pot, making sure not to overcrowd the pot. Do this in batches if needed. Fry the meat to sear until golden brown.
– Once done, return all the meat to the pot and add the sauce mixture and the two cups of water. I like to almost cover the meat in the liquid. Bring to a boil and skim off any scum that rises to the top.
– Cover the pot and transfer to a pre-heated 180C oven and cook for 2-3 hours or until the beef is very tender and falling off the bone. Check your pot occasionally to make sure nothing is sticking or burning and to turn the meat around in the sauce so it braises evenly. Towards the end of the cooking time, I like to give it an extra 15-20 minutes with the cover off to reduce the sauce a bit.
– Once the meat is meltingly tender remove the pot from the oven and stir in half the sesame seeds. If you are serving immediately then top with the other half of the sesame seeds and the remaining spring onions. If you aren’t serving this immediately, then add the rest of the sesame seeds and spring onions right before you serve.
**If you want to thicken the sauce further, you can add the cornstarch that has been diluted in cold water when the ribs are done. I didn’t feel I needed to (or maybe I was lazy) so I left it out.
Stews and braises are some of the most comforting foods for me, both in the eating of them and in the cooking. The feeling of “tending a pot” that blips slowly in the oven for hours gives me just as much pleasure as sinking my teeth into a tender piece of meat while dribbling its sauce on hot rice. So I am sharing this with you, some comfort in a pot, to bolster us through forlorn times, and to fortify us for new undertakings. Korean beef stew is one of my favorite stews and Trissalicious’ recipe is both delicious and relatively simple to make. I make mine in the oven (vis a vis on the hob) because I love making almost all braise-y dishes there. The heat is slower and gentler, and, you don’t have to look after it as much. I’ve cooked everything from binagoongan baboy to adobo this way. Although of course, you can prepare it completely on the hob, as the original recipe says, and that is absolutely fine. This dish was a hit with my husband and both the little ones so I hope you give it a whirl.
So…here we are at the beginning of a new year. I can’t say that we can shrug off all last year’s troubles like an old jacket, and that everything henceforth will be shiny and fresh. I can’t say that last year’s ghosts will not come back to haunt us on cold rainy nights. But I can say that with each new dawn, new possibilities will show themselves to those who are looking. So keep watch, and be ready to reach out and take their hands. And when I stumble (or lock myself in a bathroom – a story for another time), I’ll know there is someone watching over me. And I’ll whisper, “Oh dad!” as I have many times since he passed. And I’ll keep going.
I want to wish all of you a wonderful New Year!! Your messages of comfort and sympathy have touched my heart and have given me solace throughout this tough time. I cannot express enough how much I want to stretch my arms across this virtual world and give you a big hug. May 2015 smile upon you tremendously!!
Anonymous says
So nice to see you posting again. Best wishes this coming year.
Jen Laceda says
Well said. Sorry about your dad. I didn't know. I've only been following your instagram. But it sure is nice to have you back!
Mom-Friday says
My sincerest condolences to you and your family.
I'm still a fan of your blog and your recipes even if I haven't been blog-hopping for sometime now. Keep doing what you're doing. I'm sure your family and friends, and fans, appreciate all your efforts. =)
Beef stew is also a family favorite. I try to make it even if takes a long time to cook. =)
Ling says
Hi Joey,
I've been checking back here often, and keeping you in my thoughts. I don't need to tell you to be strong, because you knew how you would get through with this, and somehow I don't think something like this ever leaves you – but yes it's true that you can decide how you want to memorialise your dad and the time you had together. Hugs and condolences to you and your family, and the very best of this new year to you.
Ling
Caroline Diaz says
You write so beautifully. I feel your pain. I stopped blogging for a long time as well and remain on auto pilot when my mom passed. They say time heals it — I say not. It's a big void in your soul. This much I know though, a wise lady told me that the best way to honor your parents is to live the life they were not able to live. Kudos to you for coming back. One step at a time.
Aggy says
I have been following your blog for years and have enjoyed it so much! My sincerest condolences to you and your family.
joey says
Thank you Anonymous commenter…
Thank you Jen…glad to be back!
Hi Mom-Friday…thank you for your kind words and encouragement!
Hi Ling…thank you for always returning. All the best to you and yours as well in this new year <3
Hi Caroline…Thank you for your sweet comment and for sharing your experience. So sorry to hear about your mom. You are right — one step at a time.
Hi Aggy…thank you for your sympathy. I'm so happy to hear that you have been enjoying my blog, hope to have you here for the years to come!
Anonymous says
Hi! Happy new year! Condolences on your loss.
May i share this with you? When my dad died, i felt pain so bad I was still crying long after he was gone. He was already in his mid-80's but i wanted him to live forever. I didnt know how i could live in a world where he wasnt just a call or a plane ride away (i moved to another city after i got married). But time WILL do its thing, if you let it. If it doesnt heal the wound, it will at least lessen or dull the pain…
Betty Ann Quirino @Mango_Queen says
My condolences again on the passing of your dad. My heart goes out to you and your family. You were in my thoughts and prayers during the holidays. Meanwhile, good to see you back and with a favorite dish of mine. I was just thinking of making this and here you are with a splendid recipe. Bookmarking this to make soon. Take care and hugs from across the miles, Joey! Happy New Year!
Anonymous says
grieving will come in many ways…mine hit me big time one year after my moms death…it will hit you also in small little ways like hearing a song, eating in a favourite restaurant or just seeing a photo…when it does you just need to cherish the memories…
Saw this quote when my mom died and I want to share it with you…
Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal. ~From a headstone in Ireland
stary
millet ty says
beautiful words, heartwarming thoughts. you are gifted in many ways, Joey. good to know you're back. happy new year!
Irene Marie Qua says
Hi Joey! Glad that you're back. You write to beautifully and effortlessly. My condolences to you and your family. I felt the same way when my grandfather died. I don't think the pain really goes away. I think you just get used to it.
Midge says
My prayers go out to you and your family, Joey. I know too well what it's like to lose someone much beloved. 2014 was a very difficult year for me in more ways than one and my oldest friend died in March; she was only 37 and it was an aneurysm that took her away.
It's going to take a while for us to recover from our losses, but we must never, ever lose hope or faith. Be well.
joey says
Hi Anonymous…thanks for sharing your experience. It does help to hear others' wide words!
Hi Betty Ann…thank you for your words and prayers! Wishing you all the nest for the new year!
Thank you Stary! You have been such a voice of comfort…so appreciate everything!
Thank you Millet…and a very happy new year to you as well!
Thank you for your sweet comment Irene…writing is a big comfort…
Hi Midge…I am so very sorry to hear that, so young. Hang in there, sending warm hugs your way.
Nadia Abesamis says
Happy new year Jo!
Condolences to you and your family. I lost my brother to lung cancer in 2013. Unlike your father though…he had so much ahead of him…he was only 39 years old. My grief manifested in very unusual ways – anger to cynicism to ridicule then back to anger again. But soon after he died I realized just what you did…that life goes on and we must make the most of it. My brother may be gone but his spirit is very much alive in me and my family. That kept me happy and ALIVE in 2014 and it has helped me do things I never thought I could do (like performing vagina monologues in tagalog! & joining a master's swimming competition).
Anyway, I hope this year will be much happier for you and may good health be with you always. Use those running shoes well 🙂
cheers
Nadia
OompaWoompaGirl says
Happy New Year!
What a wonderful post. I was teary-eyed while writing this Know that just as your father has inspired you, you, in your writing and effervescence also inspires us your readers.
Michelle says
My heartfelt condolences to you, Jo. What you did was responsible grieving — grieving which still enabled you to do what needs to be done and to take care still of the living and the life around you. My prayers and admiration, Joey.
TreenaO says
Hi Joey. My condolences again to you and yours. Reading this post made me cry. Your love for your papa really came through. I'm sure he knows you loved him so so soooo much.
On a separate note, I've been looking for bulgogi and kalbi recipes!! So I'm really really happy you shared these. Thank you!
Nayna says
“And as He spoke, He no longer looked to them like a lion; but the things that began to happen after that were so great and beautiful that I cannot write them. And for us this the end of all the stories, and we can most truly say that they all lived happily ever after. But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read: which goes on for ever: in which every chapter is better than the one before.”
― C.S. Lewis, The Last Battle
I've always found comfort in these lines, and thought I'd share it with you. My condolences Joey.
PS Glad to see your entries, as always. You write (and cook!) with a lot of heart. Always a fan 🙂
joey says
Hi Nadia — thanks so much for your heartfelt sympathy. So sorry to hear about your brother…I am sure he would be very proud though of all you have accomplished!
Thank you Oompawoompagirl for your kind words! It means so much to know that this blog has reached out and inspired someone 🙂
Thank you Michelle…you gotta do what you gotta do…
Hi TreenaO — thank you and much appreciated. Writing posts like these also help so much. Hope you enjoyed the recipe!
Hi Nayna — CS Lewis was genius…those where beautiful lines, thanks so much for sharing them. And thanks for your sweet and encouraging comment…means so much to know this little blog can connect to others 🙂
Kristine says
My sympathies, Joey. You're an inspiration.
joey says
Thank you Kristine, both for your sympathy and your nice words…much appreciated!
Christine Camille Retuerma says
It's been awhile since your last blog, I've been revisiting this site since November and December. I know there has been so much goin' on in your life so I understood why it took time for a new post. My sincerest condolences Joey T-T.
I know your a strong woman with a solid faith. I'm so glad your back! 🙂
joey says
Thank you so much Christine…your words are much appreciated!