I made morcon for the first time this Christmas. I wanted to learn how to make this since I started cooking and this time, it’s personal.
I grew up eating morcon every Christmas and I associate its smell and taste with happy family memories. The round shape, by the highway, is supposed to bring good luck to the new year so I madapaking expect next year will be kick-ass (at this point, I look up to the heavens and give the gods of fate, the evil eye).
This version of morcon is my mom’s recipe. Her dad, who is a cook, taught it to her. I also got a few tips from my sister Emmy, who learned how to prepare morcon from her husband’s mom. Between my mom and grandfather, my sister and her mother-in-law is over a hundred years of cooking. This dish has been served in my family for many generations and people whom I love dearly sat down in tables through the years and ate this food.
I learned the very meticulous steps of making morcon via Facebook. I gave my 92 year old mom an iPad this year and she and my two sisters, Emmy and Ester, have been chatting via messenger for the past couple of weeks. In between family gossip, talking about the weather and asking about how we’re doing, they gave me the steps and technique of how to make morcon.
Thank you mom. Thank you Emmy. This Christmas is special because this is when I learned how to cook your food.