When Life Gets Hard, I Eat Cheese Sticks
When I think of seeing light at the end of the tunnel, I also imagine a plate of cheese sticks waiting there for me.
I am obsessed with cheese sticks.
I eat cheese sticks when I am bored and hungry. I eat them when I am happy, and also when I am sad. I eat them when I am pissed. I eat them when I feel like celebrating—regardless of how big or small a particular win is. I eat them even when I can’t think of any other reason than I am simply craving.
Most importantly, I eat them when I’m on the verge of giving up. This explains why we always stock up on processed cheese and lumpia wrappers at home. I guess I’ll never know when I will be needing them most, so I better be ready at all times. They are like a form of insurance.
I know there’s nothing really special about cheese sticks. It is a lot simpler and not as Instagrammable as the mozzarella sticks usually sold at expensive establishments alongside fancy cocktails and espresso-based beverages—mozzarella cheese sliced into chunky sticks and then coated by flour, egg, and bread crumbs before frying then garnished with chopped parsley and served with marinara sauce.
The kind of cheese stick I love is basically just processed cheese sliced into thin sticks and then wrapped in a sheet of lumpia wrapper before frying. It is a lumpia, but instead of having a mixture of meat and veggies for its stuffing, it has cheap processed cheese. Regardless of its simplicity, however, it never fails to brighten up any day, no matter how bad it has already been for me. And to be very honest, when I think of seeing light at the end of the tunnel, I also imagine a plate of this exact type of cheese stick waiting there for me. I will then pick up a piece of it, bite into it immediately, and just like that, life will be okay again.
I have been a cheese stick lover since I was a child. I think it all began when my uncle, who had worked as a cook at various high-end hotels and restaurants, and his wife started selling afternoon snacks on our street to make a living. Their menu included sandwiches and other easy-to-eat food like fish balls, fries, and cheese sticks. Whenever free, I would hang out at their small booth and watch them prepare customers’ orders. Occasionally I would also get free stuff, mostly in the form of cheese sticks, simply because they were among the cheapest items on their menu.
My cheese stick madness continued as I went to college, particularly when I transferred to the Diliman campus of my alma mater, UP, which has been known for its kiosks selling instant pancit canton, burgers and sandwiches, and snacks like fish balls, kikiam, kwek-kwek, and cheese sticks. Always on a tight budget, I relied on these kiosks a lot. And while my meager budget was usually just enough for pancit canton, there were times when I was lucky enough to be able to afford an add-on, and of course, it always came in the form of cheese sticks.
When I moved out of our family home, away from the compound where my extended family lived, I began recreating my uncle and aunt’s cheese sticks using the same cheap ingredients, which I could easily find even in small convenience stores at the heart of the big city at any hour. This meant I could make them on a whim, even in the middle of the night. It also helped that at that point in life, I’d already mastered the art of wrapping anything in lumpia wrapper, so preparing a batch of it was not difficult at all. I was so good at it that I could do it perfectly while binge-watching whatever series I was currently obsessed with on Netflix.
As expected, each bite of cheese sticks took me back home in Antipolo, transporting me to a time when afternoons were spent snacking under the sun and listening to the funny and spooky stories of my uncle who tried to see the brighter side of things even as he struggled financially when his heart condition worsened and forced him to quit his high-paying job as a cook. Those cheese sticks gave me something to look forward to, especially on days I was not so sure if we’d have anything for dinner.
Looking back to it now, I realize that maybe part of the reason why I’ve always associated cheese sticks with positivity and comfort is because when I was a child, I usually had them as a manifestation of my uncle’s kindness and generosity as if teaching me that although life is hard, not everyone is against you; that there will always be people who will try their very best, regardless of their own hardships, to make life a little more bearable for you; and that you should not lose faith in others.
Speaking of cheese sticks, I learned when I traveled to Dumaguete earlier this year that the city actually has an area called “Cheesestik Country.” It is what you think it is: a place where there are lots of stalls selling cheese sticks, among other types of food. I think I should be elected as its president.
And since we’re still talking about cheese sticks, let me share with you a recent discovery I’ve made at my go-to supermarket: Bambi Cheese Lumpia.
Although I don’t think it is as great as the kind of cheese stick I particularly love, it’s good enough. It is very convenient, too, so it is ideal for those times when I simply do not have the will to do anything beyond deep-frying some food. Each pack of it costs around 80 pesos and contains 24 pieces of cheese sticks.