To 'Karinderyas': Where Meals Become Memories

Living alone is not for the weak. At first, it feels exhilarating because you can stay out late, make your own choices, and live life on your own terms. But reality hits hard when the excitement fades, and you're left in an empty room with no one to share dinner with and the daunting realization that cooking three meals a day is an errand you don't have the time (or energy) for.

- By BEA ALAMIS

For students who live alone, a karinderya becomes a warm embrace after a long day. These humble, hole-in-the-wall eateries serve not just food but home and comfort. They remind you of what your mom or lola would make once you get home, tired and sleepy from school. The aroma of sinigang na baboy, the sight of crispy fried lumpiang shanghai or tilapia, and the familiar sweetness of pork adobo bring an instant sense of home, even when you're miles away from it.

I never truly appreciated the essence of a karinderya at first. They were just small eateries selling dishes I could technically make myself, if only I had spare time. But these places became my sanctuary during my six months of living alone in my final year of college. I was knee-deep in my solo thesis and barely had time to go back home on weekends to visit my family, let alone cook. And yet, the nearby karinderyas made sure I never went hungry. It was where I often went when I was too exhausted to function, where I found warmth when Manila's chaos felt overwhelming, and where I could eat a meal that didn't taste like takeout.