I've lost count on how many times we had it in a week so as I entered the house and smelled the familiar odor wafting through the air all I could do was silently utter my discontentment. Dried fish! As I sat with the others for lunch my hunger won. Our Nanay Manang had prepared some tomatoes and onion dip with chopped coriandre. There was also vinegar with some crushed chili pepper. It was a feast! I never thought that I would miss having dried fish. I was slowly conditioning myself that chicken and steak would be a better substitute. But the village girl in me kept on resurfacing. I would prepare brewed coffee just like we had back home. Ate lots of rice until my bulges came and triumphantly stayed. Still there was something lacking. Then one fine day a Pinay friend brought me some dried fish. It was like being home once again. So for two days, I feasted on them. The smell that penetrated my kitchen didn't bother me at all. I savoured every moment and every bite. Some bitter s