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<center>__There it is, chicken meal just like the way I like it. It is in the bowl on top of the rice, exclude the other stuffs__</center>

Cooking has been and always be my passion of doing although I  can't 100% do it right now because it is an acquired skill that makes me feel good especially when somebody approves my cooking, nothing really can replace the honor it gives me. The first food I have learned to cook is rice and was taught to me by my mother.

My mother taught me to use the rice measuring cup on how much water I should put. So first I am using it and then I learned how to approximate the water-rice ratio later. But it doesn't end there tho, and this is the part where cooks and non-cooks separates. In cooking rice, you should put enough water then wait for it to boil and then dry out. After that you cover the pot and lessen the flame below and wait for 30-40 minutes without lifting the cover. This process require not to be done by an OCD patient or your rice will never ever get done right.

If you let an OCD patient cook rice and gets to trip on lifting the cover while the rice cooks, then you will be.. Well I don't know what you will feel if you are a rice eater and the rice is like a rice hull when it is served to you. This is the reason why my mother tells my father that she will be the one cooking our rice when she returns from school with my nephew because of the said reasons. And my father just volunteers a lot to cooking but luckily he just cooks his leafy vegetables soup that O don't know what it is called.

So my parents started to cook when I got disabled and it is not  really good for me. The foods that I enjoyed eating with my own way of cooking is not the same when they are the ones doing it and I felt imprisoned here within my painful shell. 

Now I tried to cook my favorite dish, a common viand which probably the national dish in my country. So I asked my mother if there is any chicken in the ref that I can cook, she said "Yes" So she just took it out from the refrigerator to thaw fro its icy state. Then I tried to get up sizing up things if I can do it. I told myself, "It's possible."

About 30 minutes later I tried to get up and sit outside my room where my nephew is watching TV to get myself readied for my cooking. My plan is to just marinate the chicken because I can never really tend it to the stove and all that.

I told my my mother to get the ingredients readied because I can't possibly get them one by one on the table. But this dish is just so simple to do and has only a few ingredients. Then I took the vinegar, six heaping tablespoons. Then I took the say sauce, for this recipe which has about 1/2 kilo of chicken is four tablespoons.

In between going outside my room and to the table and handling the vinegar and spoon and finally the soy soysauce, I was grunting in pain and couldn't breathe. I planned to watch TV afterwards but I just told my mother to gate onion and garlic and some seasonings into the chicken and then scurried back to my bed because I felt like my chest would crack and my back hurts like a devil is whacking it.

The chicken got marinated for a while until my mother asked me if I wanted some for supper, I said okay because I am excited about my recipe being realized before me. 

But I felt sad because I couldn't do it all by myself, I just too disabled by my back pains and all, but I am happy because I will eat some chicken with the taste and texture just the way I like it and there it was.