We just had adobo for lunch so I am kind of inspired to make this poem inspired by it. It taste good and weirdly, it tasted better with bagoong (shrimp paste). I also did that last night with Sisig. Is everything good with a small smidge of Bagoong?
Adobo FTW
The pot still warm, soy sauce simmers low,
A rich dark sheen in a steady glow.
Chopped some garlic, added some meat,
Added onions and vinegar, increased the heat.
Vinegar bites, then settles down,
Soy brings depth, a deep brown crown.
Bay leaves, salt and pepper to taste,
Steeping hours, hope the sourness stays.
The meat gives way with gentle pull,
Soft but firm, completely full.
Each bite I do, I want more.
This lovely food, I adore.
Rice was white, then turns brown,
Now I am smiling, before was a frown.
Grains soak up what spills and slides,
No drop wasted, nothing hides.
The smell alone could start the meal,
Before the my stomach knows what to feel.
I took more bite, curbed my hunger.
My sis said stop, I said "Whatever."
Adobo is so good, I am now full.
This dish is great. I know. It's cool.
I stood up, finished my meal.
I lie down on the bed, a great feel.
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