It’s been years since I left my country for Paris. I am currently working in an exquisite hotel where most of the occupants where renowned business tycoons and celebrities traveling across countries. This five-star hotel is known for its outstanding services, up-to-date facilities and foremost, the delicious food and luscious beverages that even a gourmet would forget his name. The person behind these foodstuffs is really a genius. The hotel is very blessed for having the finest chef who contributed much in the success of the business. Yeah. They are lucky for having me as the head cook.
Cooking was not really my passion. I never dreamed nor imagined myself as a chef who cooks for people. I have finished my bachelor’s and doctorate degree in architecture and even obtained my license, and yet, I worked in a kitchen. What’s the sense of getting injured from the heat of the oven or cooking oil when I could just relaxedly stay in an office and design the blueprint of a building? What’s the point of getting agitated beating the time limit of preparing a food for group of hungry people when I could work for a project and be paid with higher salary?
I am Gino and I grew up with a silver spoon in my mouth. My father is an architect while my mother was a physician. At a young age, I learned to get used with the busy schedule of my parents. Since I was their only child, I have no one to talk with except the maids who worked for us. Our house may be large but it was so empty. They may have provided me everything I needed but this only made me lazy to work for myself. I depended on everything to our maids that even a simple chore was a no- no for me.
Everything changed when I met Jessica. She was the love of my life. She was simple and dependable. Jessica at an early age began to help her parents earn for a living. She was a part time cook in a restaurant in our school. During her vacant time, she works inside the kitchen and endures the pain of getting wounded or burned. She did not mind if some of our schoolmates were making fun of her condition. I didn’t care. All I knew was that I love her when I sat beside her in one of our class. She was my classmate in Math.
Jessica taught me everything I needed to learn especially the house chores. I visited her in their house every weekend and there, I saw how happy they were. All of them were so welcoming. They treated me like one of their family member. And in there, for the first time, I felt I was home.
Few years passed, Jessica and I got married. Both of us were very happy planning for our own family. We were excitedly preparing the things we needed for our house. Jessica meticulously sees to it that every single detail should be accurate- from how our kitchen should look, from what curtain should be hanged on the window and the like. Jessica became a good wife to me and I felt so blessed of having her. But I guess I’ll be more blessed because in few months’ time, she will be delivering our first child.
In a couple of months, Jessica gave birth. As expected, it was a boy. He was a healthy 6-pound baby. His first cry made me shed tears for I am already a father. His eyes and nose look like Jessica’s while he got my thin lips. We named him Emmanuel.
But fate must be kidding me. Jessica died few hours after her labor. It was really very painful to lose her considering the fact that we already had our baby. Anyhow, I promised to myself not to leave baby Emmanuel behind. I am his father and I’ll take good care of him. I promised to protect my son as long as I live. I also decided not to get a babysitter or a maid and then began to live independently.
Baby Emmanuel grew rapidly. I sent him to a nursery school when he was 5 years old. According to his teacher, he was a fast learner. He may be a 5 year old kid but he thinks like 7. I was very glad to know that my son is intelligent and smart. He was really a gift.
Sooner, Emmanuel began to ask where her mother was. He even told me that he was so envious from his classmates whose mothers accompany them in school. I carefully tell and explained him everything. I was not failed. He understood it all.
One Saturday morning, my son asked me to cook for him a sunny- side- up. I panicked for I didn’t know how to cook for it. Since most of the time I and my son eat in restaurants or in fast- food establishments, I didn’t have much time to work in a kitchen and cook for my kid. Nevertheless, he tightly embraced my back and pleasantly told me that I can do it. Then, everything went right upon hearing his words. I immediately get the tray of eggs in the fridge and began my ‘fatherly task’.
On my first attempt, the sunny-side-up was totally damaged. The egg yolk which was supposed to be at the middle scattered like no one could say it’s really a sunny- side up. Emmanuel laughed. I laughed too.
The next day morning, I ask Emmanuel if we could cook a sunny- side up again. I was confident to ask him for I had searched the internet the night before. Without any second thought, he joyfully nodded and jumped on our bed. I carried him on my back to the kitchen.
Luckily, the sunny- side up looked and tasted better than the one I cooked the day earlier. My son liked it even better and I was very happy for it. I was even happier upon hearing him say that he loved me and her mother very much. I shed tears.
Cooking a sunny- side up became our bonding moment as years rolled in. Emmanuel was now a Grade 2 pupil. He excelled much in most of his subjects. At a young age, he began sketching a structure of houses and buildings that even my father got amazed of what he can do and how far he can think. I saw in him the passion to draw and I guess, he will be an architect too. He had also drawn his dream house and building.
One school day, I got a phone call that changed my life forever. The school principal told me that my son was rushed into the hospital where my mother worked. Upon learning the news, I immediately went into it.
As I entered his room, my mother tightly embraced me and said sorry for what she had diagnosed from my son. According to mom, her grandchild had a certain heart failure that when he gets upset or surprised, happy or excited, her heart could stop. I hardly cry as I look at my son’s pale face while holding and kissing his hand. I even cried harder as I remember Jessica and the times when my parents did not even bother try to cook for me. I pitied for myself and for my son. I cannot afford to lose a loved one again. He’s all I’ve got and it breaks my heart thinking about his condition. I hardly shed tears.
Few days after, I released Emmanuel from the hospital. I did not tell him what was going on for I did not want to bother him so much. I just told him that he only got fever and there was nothing to worry about. I told him that her grandmother had already killed the virus. Afterwhich, my son strongly embraced me. He sweetly asked if I could carry him on my back to the kitchen and cook for our favorite sunny- side up. I carried him carefully while holding my tears back.
While cooking, my son said something that moved me so much. He told that despite it was not perfect, my sunny- side up was the best food he ever tasted; that despite her mom’s absence, I was there to cook for him eventhough I’m not into cooking; that despite he was still a kid, he will do great things for me.
A little later, we both noticed that the sunny- side up I was cooking gets even better. It may not be as good as what I have seen from the web but it’s better than the ones we cooked before. With great surprised, I hug him and we both yelled, “We’re getting close to it.”
Days come to pass and more weeks came about. In two days time, Emmanuel will be turning 8. It would be a double birthday celebration- Emmanuel’s and Jessica’s; and at the same time, to remember Jessica’s death.
Emmanuel’s birthday came in. I woke up early to prepare for the food for my son’s simple party. But first, I prepared him a breakfast. I cooked his favorite meal- a sunny side- up, fried rice and a glass of milk. To my surprise, the sunny- side up was almost perfect. The egg yolk was on the middle and was not scattered. It was neither undercooked nor overcooked. My heart was filled with happiness for my son will now eat a perfectly cooked sunny- side up.
I immediately went to our room and wake him up. Upon opening his eyes, I greeted him happy birthday and gently kissed him on his forehead. Then I asked him if I could carry him on my back to the kitchen because something is waiting for him to see. He lightly positioned himself on my back as if he was still sleepy. As we were getting into the kitchen, I noticed something strange. Emmanuel was not talking. I was not used to it for he was talkative and inquisitive. I just assumed that he got sleep while on my back. I gently laid him on the sofa. Then all of a sudden, I was dumbstruck of what I saw. My son Emmanuel was not breathing anymore. He was taken by the grim reaper.
I was very mournful that day. My son died on his birthday. Jessica and Emmanuel both died on the same day- a day which was supposed to be very happy but it was not. Worse, my son did not even see my perfectly cooked sunny- side up. He was the reason why I kept on striving to perfect it. It was so fateful that when I almost perfected it, he left. I shed tears as the rain that day grieved with me.
I hated myself for I was not able to protect my son. I promised to protect him for as long as I live but he gone first. Nevertheless, Emmanuel will always be with me. I know that together with his mom, he was very happy for I had perfected the sunny- side up. Jessica, for sure, is also happy for what I have become now.
From then on, I decided to take a culinary course for I wanted to learn how to cook. Cooking may not be my first love but it gradually became a passion. Right now, I am trying to create new delicacies out of eggs. But the sunny side- up will always be the closest to my heart.
On the other hand, I am making sure that the food I am cooking for the people in the hotel will always be special and one of a kind. After all, my son’s dream building will always be the number one in Paris or perhaps, worldwide.
It’s August 21 again. It’s Jessica’s 41st and Emmanuel 16th birthday. Instead of getting depressed, I bonded with the hotel guests and occupants, hotel workers and other personnel. We really enjoyed the anniversary party outside the hotel. Afterwards, I shed tears of joy as the fantastic fireworks were ignited making a flickering background of the Emmanuel Hotel.
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For chef. For fathers.
Emcee's Mindset 