I’m in Winnipeg for my paternal grandma’s funeral. We’re staying at a hotel where other of my families are here too. We’ve had their breakfast in the restaurant almost everyday and they’ve made their bacon the way my mom did when I was growing up (she’s not made it in a while). Thin strips, cooked to a certain coloring, never burnt. It’s been tasty and has gone with everything else on my plate.

I gave my thanks to the chef when he came out and talked with my parents (Filipinos do this connections thing, I just don’t speak the language). It fondly reminded me of my maternal grandpa who was a high ranking chefs in the Navy (he cooked for generals). He first died back in 2001. Food is near and dear to my heart. I wasn’t expecting to enjoy hotel breakfast so much. I’m very glad I stayed with my parents on this final send-off.