The Moth

Laughing, giggling, chuckling for no apparent reason in public may brand you by those observing your actions as cause for concern. Drunk? Insane? Contagious? Stand back folks, nothing to see here, yes, I mean you buddy... You are after all, walking or sitting alone, seemingly normal, a few shopping bags in hand, and looking a wee bit weary during the manic Christmas season. If they are observant, they may look for a sign that you are speaking to someone via earpiece; hmm, not from this distance, but wait, it does look like you're listening to something. Must be funny, wish I could share in the joy, where did I leave my umbrella....

You are listening to something and it is funny, it's from the Moth podcast, and Joe Jackson, musician, New Age savant, has been sharing how rock and roll saved his life. Sounds serious enough, but Mr. Jackson is full of silliness tonight. He's been keeping you smiling for at least 10 minutes describing his first gig, playing the piano with a couple of friends at the Drake, a pub/piano bar/marine hangout in Portsmouth (UK). He tells tales of Marty, Frankenstein of the music world, who could piece together bits and pieces of any wind instrument and then some. Or of the skinheads at the Irish Center who threw fag ends and coins at them for playing acoustic jazz. But the real piece de resistance was the toilet humor. At the Drake's ladies toilet, the owners had hung up a large picture of Adam (of A. and Eve fame), with a noticeable flap where the fig leaves normally hang. Lift the flap and find yourself reading a sign that says "A bell just rang in the bar".

The Moth podcasts are a great mix of serious, sublime, ridiculous, awe inspiring. It's story telling at its best. Recorded on stage at the Moth's New York and Los Angeles centers, you never know who is going to be sharing a wee bit of themselves when you get your weekly download. Most of the speakers aren't big name hotshots. These are the people behind the scenes, the non-celebrities, but they have a story to tell and a lot of it is hilarious. For ten to fifteen minutes, stand in someone else's shoes, feel their pain, their glory, their laughter. Just don't lift Adam's flap.

Br-unch

I like breakfast food that works in lieu of any other meal of the day. Take congee for instance. You can eat it when you're sick (my go to sick food of all time), but on nippy days like last week, blustering with a cold front from the north and miserable rain, a bowl of congee is comforting and cosy. Add some toppings of choice and you're good to go. Some days all you want is a zen like approach, tofu, a few slivers of green onion, ginger, with a splash of soy sauce. Some days, it's toss everything from the fridge - pork, century eggs, fish balls, an egg, vegies, bbq chicken, peanuts, bagoong, a pickle. Whatever suits your fancy, for the base - boiled rice - will take it in.

I also love our filipino -logs (tosilog, tapsilog, longsilog, yada yada); meat, egg, and rice. Side of atchara for contrast. You get varities around the country, danggit being a favorite of mine further south in Cebu or Palawan, where the fresh danggit is sublime, crispy, not overly salty, and makes for a change of pace when travelling. I once ordered a bangus with rice and egg in Zamboanga, didn't realize how large the bangus is outside of Manila, found myself face to face with a bangus the size of a platter, it was too much food and difficult to gulp down in haste before my flight took off.

The last few days, I've taken to eating a lot of crispy adobo flakes with egg and garlic rice. Pancake house has a really good version, not so crispy perhaps, but the adobo sulipan is chocful of stewed garlic and tasty meat (a mixture of chicken and pork); I like to mush the garlic and mix it into the already garlicky rice, and douse the meat with hot sauce. And I've discovered that Vanilla Bean, a cafe in Salcedo Village has a good crispy adobo meal, the eggs are softly scrambled, the rice is garlicky but not too oily, and the adobo is quite crunchy, with stringy bits blended in. Not enough garlic but I can appreciate the dish. If VB was open beyond 6 pm, I'd have it for dinner too, but I know I can always depend on Pancake House if I'm feeling the need for garlicky meat and rice after 7 pm.

How much is that doggy in the webcam?

Shiba Inu is one of the few canine breeds first developed in Japan, with a developing interest around the world. The dogs were bred by indigenous Japanese tribes to hunt for boar and small mammals. Their colors range from cream to red to brown and even black, wolf like snouts, and known to be good protectors of their humans. A friend of mine, who has enough furry friends at home to make Cruella de Ville envious, is considering getting one of the dogs, after seeing a documentary about several dogs at a US dog parade. She sent me the link to a puppy cam with live feeds of 6 Shibas: http://www.ustream.tv/channel/shiba-inu-puppy-cam

While they are typical puppies, gamboling, playing, eating, sleeping, I've caught a few sweet moments during the live feed, typically when one puppy has just woken up, finds his or her siblings still sleeping, walks over them and then pillows its head on one of the others tummies, then goes back to sleep. Watching them makes me wish I had another dog for my own tousled head poodle, but one dog is enough right now, especially since she and the master or our domain, ie the cat, are not getting along at all. Seperate domains are all I can provide at the moment, thankfully the dog is bit more mobile, willing to take rides to my parents house at the drop of the hat.

At the recent bookclub reading, we chose The Story of Edgar Sawtelle, a modern day retelling of Hamlet with a healthy dose of the Dog Whisperer mixed in. The book has been receiving a lot of strong praise, it then was chosen as an Oprah bookclub selection, but 6 out of the 8 of us who read the book and went to the dinner last week were less than enthusiastic. I had been enthused to read the book after hearing good reviews from other readers, but found myself dragging to get through the book after 100 pages. The parts that needed serious editing tended to be about the dog breeding strategies and the letters between the dog enthusiasts who had their own opinions about what characterized scientific breeding of dogs for specific traits. One of our readers had sincere concerns about the mental and emotional strength of the title character who she described as downright crazy. But then we all had doubts about any of the characters' ability to make the right choices; the mother falling into bed with her recently deceased husband's brother given the animosity between the siblings; the anthropomorphic development of the dogs (some serious mind reading between humans and dogs in this book); plus the ambiguous mystery of how the father died.

The only revelation that came to me during the dinner was that not a lot of people seem to know their basic Shakespeare. Most of us who attend the book club are educated in the western canon, but so many of the attendees didn't know the basic plot or characters of Hamlet, or got characters mixed up with other Shakesperean tragedies. Maybe too many of us take our liberal arts education for granted.

Back to the Shibas, 2 of the puppies waved farewell on cam, one more heads out to its new home in a few hours. At 8-9 weeks old, they are much younger than the Sawtelle dogs were when released to new homes, but that is typical of these days of modern dog adoption. Even though I am new to the Shiba puppy watch, I think they are golden bundles of puppy love.

Conjunction in the sky (there are great big terrible giants in the sky...)

A text from Nena said for me to look up at the moon. I thought it would simply be a larger than normal full moon, and it took me a little over 30 minutes to head outside to see what all the fuss was about. I looked and was taken aback, there was a crescent moon, and two bright lights above it. I knew enough that they weren't stars, but planets. But which ones?? I rushed back to the computer and started googling, I also started to send texts to Nena and friends who might know. I knew the brightest light would be Venus, she normally appears shiny in the heavens, so it was expected. But my initial thought that the second planet was Mercury was wrong. I was more thrilled to find out it was Jupiter! How wonderful! It may be the biggest planet, but I suppose being further away it didn't cast as strong a reflection as the goddess of love.
Looking up at that sight, going back and forth between sky gazing and the living room for answers and furious texts to friends and family (telling the young uns to get up from their butts and look outside), I recall special moments when the evening sky, filled with stars, the occasional shooting star, makes everything else in life seem small and shallow. Last night, with the moon and the planets smiling down on us (those of us closer to the equator and in the southern hemisphere had the blessing of a smiley face; the folks north saw a downturned moon), I couldn't help but feel a rush of positive emotions. Forget wars, economic downturns, man made disasters for a few moments, look up!

Check out KLM - Fill a Plane - Promote your plane

Ugh, KLM needs better macro forms. They have a new promo to win prizes including a trip to Amsterdam. But their blog post format is so boring:

Hi,

I want you to take a look at : KLM - Fill a Plane - Promote your plane

See?

However, the more people who sign up to fly on my plane, the better chances of winning those tickets to Amsterdam! Land of windmills, Van Gogh, tulips, and coffee houses :D

Come fly with me, let's go down to Peru...

(Socky, this is your fault! I'm hooked on Slide!)

Tinkering with Slide, I put some of the landscape photos I took of N. Dakota and Montana. I love the drive through look, so retro :D

The lechons are full of hot air

Tea on a Sunday morning

In August, I took off for a weekend to visit Butuan, one of the oldest pre-spanish settlements in the country, reknowned among Filipino historians and archeologists, where the Spanish landed and are said to have held the first Catholic mass. In the months prior to the trip, I had seen the reconstructed balanghais, a boat used by our ancestors who must have traversed the Butuan river and the straits heading towards other islands north. I was also lured by Eating Asia's post on the kilawin the authors had at the fish market. There's nothing like salivating at Robyn and Dave's pictures to get an idea of travelling to one of the provincial cities in Mindanao going.

One of the wonderful finds I took back from that trip was the biasyong, a kaffir or makrut lime that has an intensely fragrant, flower-like aroma. Cut into one and inhale for one's life, it will take the blues away. Of course, there are very few of these lovely green fruits in Manila, so I brought back a kilo and divided it among friends. I stuck them in my bottled water, I grated some of the zest, experimented with adding the juice to honey, and considered attempting the kilawin of the south. The latter didn't pan out due to my laziness of sourcing perfectly fresh tuna.

At the recent MM Eyeball in Cebu, MM used a lot of biasyongs for his kilawin, and it reminded me how lovely a fruit it is. A friend travelling to Cagayan de Oro asked if there was anything a few of us would like from the south, and two of us asked if she could try to find the biasyongs. She kindly obliged and brought back several of the limes for us; they are called suka in CDO, but I cut into one and was sure it is one and the same, for who could miss the perfume?

I have a few of the limes left, and thought how to use them best. I tried adding some of the juice when I cooked some bagoong last week, but found it the wrong combination. The astringency of the lime's juice wasn't as strong as calamansi, and the aroma was sort of offputting when paired with the fishiness of the bagoong, the clash was distinctly nauseating.

This morning, I put the kettle on, planning to steep a few teaspoons of a wonderful green tea. As the water roiled and I spooned the tea leaves into my trusty teapot (I've had this pot since 1995, it has kept me company through many a home), I thought why not add some of the lime wedges, see how it fared. A couple of minutes into the brew, I knew it was the perfect pairing. It may be a wee bit gloomy outside, and there may not be much to watch on the telly, but I sit with my teapot, a mug of tea, and think perfumed thoughts.

Eat more skin

1.


Marketman promised us lechon, we got lechon. Three of his personal recipe spiced/rubbed/roasted on a spit lechons. Other bloggers have shown the photos of the party, the pigs, the kilawin (ceviche of mackarel), sisig, desserts galore. I know that Joey of 80breakfasts, Socky of Tennis and Conversations, and Lee have all posted their albums. Other than sharing the roasted pig above, the only two shots I'm sharing from my collection are:

1. A crisp white parol floating against the background of the city. White was the background of the party. Crisp, clean, festive.



2. I spied this lovely wooden mortar and pestle in the back of MM's office kitchen. I can imagine he and his crew pounded all the garlic, ginger, spices on it, but what I love is the shape and sturdy look.


Thank you MM/Mrs.MM/The Teen/The Crew!

(PS: I'm tinkering with posting a video from the eyeball and may figure it out before the end of the day. Check this space for one other addition from the event.)

Fomalhaut B

The first planet seen outside our own solar system, Fomalhaut B. Fomalhaut means "mouth of the (big) fish", translated from Arabic (fum al'hot). Since my mythological education was greco-roman centric, it's good to learn a new myth from a different religion/culture. Here's a snippet from related stories about the big fish, the star, and the mermaids:

"In Greek mythology, Fomalhaut was associated with the monster Typhon, who is said to lie buried beneath Mt. Etna in Sicily. In Syrian and Canaanite lands it was honored as the symbol of the fish-god Dagon, whose temple at Gaza was destroyed by the Biblical strongman Samson. This temple is believed to have been oriented to the rising of Fomalhaut.

All accounts of this constellation's mythology are disappointingly sketchy. Like Pisces, its mythology has a Middle Eastern setting indicative of Babylonian origin. An ancient constellation, Piscis Austrinus represents the Babylonian fish-god Oannes, who came to Earth to teach humans how to become civilized. According to the brief account of Eratosthenes, the Syrian fertility goddess Derceto (the Greek name for Atargatis) is supposed to have fallen into a lake at Bambyce near the Euphrates river in Syria, and was saved by a large fish. Hyginus says, in repetition of his note on Pisces, that as a result of this the Syrians do not eat fish but rather they worship the images of fish as gods.

Bambyce later became known to the Greeks as Hieropolis (meaning Sacred City), now called Membij. Other classical sources tell us that temples of Atargatis contained fish ponds. The goddess was said to punish those who ate fish by making them ill, but her priests ate fish in a daily ritual.

According to the Greek writer Diodorus Siculus, Derceto deliberately threw herself into a lake at Ascalon in Palestine as a suicide bid in shame for a love affair with a young Syrian, Caystrus, by whom she bore a daughter, Semiramis. Derceto killer her lover and abandoned her child, who was brought up by doves and later became queen of Babylon. In the lake, Derceto was turned into a mermaid, half woman, half fish. So merpeople may also be associated with the constellation Piscis Austrinus."
- Mythology of Star Tales, Ian Ridpath. Universe Books, New York.

Pair of thoughts

Old unfinished buildings are finally getting their due: the empty shell of a building along EDSA corner Pasong Tamo extension is going to be turned into apartments, and likewise the same abandoned apartment building next to the Nestle factory along Aurora Blvd has a sign by the wall stating it will be turned into a "landmark" residential building. Instead of building from scratch the developers have to rehabilitate the structures, slap on some paint, and start selling the bejeezus out of them. Will people buy these apartments? What about the former investors whose funds were stuck while the buildings languished into weed gardens? Do they get their money back, first dibs on penthouses, or a mere thanks for helping us pay for the cornerstone cement ten years ago? I'd feel pretty lousy if I knew someone was going to get that apartment I plunked down my life savings on. But I'm projecting.


Carbs! We had another day at Cottage Kitchen over the weekend, and I counted partaking 4 of the 6 kinds of carbs on offer: grits, cornbread, biscuits, dirty rice. I believe the fifth was a potato salad, and someone had hush puppies. No one had a spoonful of the rice that came with the gumbo. Who would? Today, I tried the triple berry fruit bread at Coffee bean and tea leaf; after horrible muffin and scones there some years back, I was not sure I'd order anything other than hot chocolate. But the triple berry was surprisingly moist. And with the addition of dried cranberries, sultanas and a blueberry preserve, the fruitbread was not without flavor. I think the next time I have this for breakfast, I'll pair it with a black tea to offset the sweetness.

Sunday lunch

After a busy Saturday, the best contrast is a very quiet Sunday. I have been planning to make a vegetarian curry using all the materials in my crisper (cauliflower, sweet potato, carrots, peas, okra) and a box of spicy Japanese curry paste. I also needed to add some of the eggs that were probably on its last legs, so those got boiled and added to the pot. A rice cooker full of cooked brown rice and I could have stuck to a high fiber healthy meal. But there's a part of me that needs an added twist, so I took my sole can of corned beef, fried the heck out of it till it was crispy, and mixed it into the brown rice. Eat with a sizeable dollop of the curried vegies Textures - nutty, crispy, creamy, and spicy. Not the prettiest of meals, it's a meal only a sunday luncher could love.

'08 Election results

Most of my American friends and family members are euphoric over the results of the race for the Presidency yesterday. I received many a happy-happy-joy-joy text from that side of the Pacific.

Other than the big ticket race, there were several interesting propositions under consideration. I was happy to see that both Colorado and S. Dakota voters voted against restrictions to abortion rights, and Washington is now the second state to allow euthanasia. There were other smaller bills, like banning inhumane cages for chickens (tight fit chicken coops?), which I think got passed.

Since I am still enjoying (and posting) my memories of travelling by train, it was interesting to read that California has passed Proposition 1A - High Speed Train. It may seem a tad 20th century, what with bullet trains in Japan, France, and China has the Maglev. But the US has put train travel on the backburner for so long. Now, the first state to pass funding and support for a high speed train gets the go signal. It will be a SF to LA train, estimated to take 2.5 hours, instead of the meandering overnighter that it can sometimes take on Amtrak now. I hope I get to take that train when it's up and running!

Head North

Dawn on the first day of my train trip. Looking out from the Observation Deck, suspecting I'm somewhere in Arizona, and taking fuzzy photos of the arroyos and red rock cliffs.

Speaking of the observation deck, if you're ever on Amtrak and need extra space to just think, read, chat with strangers, read the paper, drink some water or eat chips, eavesdrop on what other people are saying, nap, wonder what to have for lunch/dinner in the dining car, nibble on carrots to stave off hunger, hog the two seater so you can stretch out... anyway, this is what you see outside.

Tres damas quixote de Manila (or bonding over bourdain)

(For Katrina, and Marvin)

This is a true story. I was there, and the two others with me can verify it. Sometimes, it's not about the goal, it's about the road. Ok, enough of the deep philosophy, here's the dirt:

It all began with a text from Socky: "Anthony Bourdain will be with Claude Tayag this Thursday. CT will also bring him to Aling Lucing's to try sisig. Am so tempted to have lunch in pampanga!"

With these fateful words, three fangirls took off on a road trip to Angeles. We had been to Bale Dutung, Mr. Tayag's home bistro, on a memorable food filled day trip in 2007, and we had plans of returning to Angeles for additional restaurant trips, patisserie discoveries (Aurely's Special inverted brazo de mercedes), and general camaraderie. The last time we took off, it was the threesome of Nena, Kat, and Mila. Unfortunately, both Socky and Nena couldn't make it, so with a bit of timely maneuvering on Joey's side, we found ourselves driving on the road north in search of the salt and pepper locks of the celebrated chef/traveller/snarkman.

This was to be Joey's baptism by fire on the road, she had not driven beyond Metro Manila before, her first time to drive the smooth lanes of NLEX. I was sleep deprived from my new job, having not had a decent full 8 hours in over ten days and unlikely to do so that day. Katrina was ready with one of AB's books, not one of his normal food books either! Our plan: go to Bale Dutung, then Susie's in Angeles for food shopping, lunch at Cottage Kitchen, stop off at Coldspoon froyo, and maybe find Aurely's to get those brazo squares.

We got off on a good start, and arrived in Angeles with no problems on the road. Joey soon got into the rhythm of NLEX. We asked for general directions to the subdivision, and arrived in fine fettle. The village guard didn't ask us for ids or anything, even though we thought he might give us a hard time if he was vetted right and told to shoo away annoying paparrazi or fawning fans. When we reached Bale Dutung, we wondered if we had to make up some sort of reason for why we were there; "just passing by", "we're big fans", "please let us wash dishes while he eats" or something like that. We rang the door bell (near the post that had a sign "Maylbaks"), it was opened by one of Claude's guys, and we asked if Mr. Tayag was available. He let us in and we sort of shuffled our feet around waiting for CT. The man himself came down, dressed in a tshirt and shorts and we figured it was time to say what we had to say. Er... "you might not remember us, but we had lunch here last year." Luckily Katrina's instant recognizability (sic) was our in! Yay for not having hair! We said we were in the area and heard that he was hosting you-know-who, and he did confirm it, but to our dismay explained that AB was still in Manila! Gadzooks. His equipment was being fixed or something and he would be running late. They planned to visit Aling Lusing's along the riles, for the original sisig. In any case we knew we couldn't wait around for a glimpse of AB since we all had to be back in Manila by early evening. Sigh. Plus CT did say he couldn't have anyone around, so oh well, would we like his recoms for what to eat in town? Everybody's cafe for real kapampangan food. But we want Anthony!!

Since we knew and psyched ourselves that our chances were slim to none of seeing him and could have been shooed out by CT if he really was already in Bale Dutung, we had a plan B, a day of food in Angeles. But not having slept well in days means the navigator (me) was picking belly lint from my greycells. Spatial abilities fall apart from lack of rest. We took the long route back into town, got lost a couple of times, and finally landed near Friendship Avenue thanks to two security guards and a trike driver. Lunch first, restored our souls and spirits with grub. It was the best two hours of the day! 7 kinds of carbs (grits with cheese, cornbread, biscuits, rice, mashed potatoes, potato salads, and fried dumplings), along with a briney ham hock on pinto beans, collard greens; a hearty gumbo with andouille sausage and chicken, with tons of okra; fried catfish, softdrinks, and an overly banana tasting banana cream pie. We closed the place down; did I mention we went to Cottage Kitchen?

Anyway, down through Fields Avenue, back into the old part of Angeles for a stop at Susie's and Rosings. We knew what we wanted at Susie's - chicharon with tons of laman and their carabao milk halaya. It was not meant to be!! Both items were sold out, although one guy behind the counter raised our hopes when he told Kat to wait while he took a key down from a shelf (how special can it be when it's stored under lock and key?). Oy. I bought boxes of carabao milk caramels from Rosings to soften the blow. It then got worse when we found Aurely's along Macarthur highway, but their special brazo de mercedes squares were also sold out. Teeth gnashing commences here. Homeward Jeeves, er Joey!

There was more to come however!! We hit the highway at 5, and got to Metro Manila by 5:44 pm, then took another hour and a half touring the north and west side of the city (through dusk, traffic, and scary neighborhoods) on our way south because aforementioned navi was braindead. When I saw a road I thought would lead to the right direction, it led us elsewhere. Finally we got to Binondo (168!) and I finally figured out the right turns. Don't ask, it was not a pretty picture. If we were in Amazing Race and AB was our prize at the end of the day, we'd have been told by Phil that we were out of the race.

Consolation prize - lunch at Cottage Kitchen was good enough to satiate our cajun growlings for awhile. Aurely's is still out of reach and, as for Mr. Bourdain, we wish Ian (of Sebastian's ice cream) better luck in crossing paths with him on Sunday (while stalking the buffet at Sofitel). (Follow up: it seemed like everyone else in Manila got to see, touch, take a pic of AB! Ian did see him and got something signed, several bloggers mentioned chance encounters, from airport to hotel to walks around the city.)

Thanks Joey for driving and keeping your cool under pressure. Kat for making us think about how to moderate our lust or men's lust or something lusty, and Mr. Bourdain, you just missed three gorgeous gals who spent an entire day devoted to you!

On a healthier note

I've started a new job and the hours are difficult to adjust to. In this global economic meltdown, a job is a job is a job (and the bills are bills are bills; need one to pay the other).

To help stave off my own financial meltdown, one thing I'm doing is packing my own lunches. Fruit, yogurt, nuts, and a lot of sandwiches. Slapping together two pieces of bread with cheese and ham can get a wee bit boring, so I've been perusing the interweb for tasty lunch options. And I'm also gaining a lot of inspiration from bento websites like Lunch in a Box, Kitchen Cow, etc. These ladies pull together meals that look tasty and pretty.

Last week, I went through my cupboards, emergency stashes (the canned goods in the pantry), and what I knew might not last much longer in my fridge, and decided to pull together a better than tuna salad mix. There isn't any photo to showcase this, but really, what's not to love about lean protein, vegies, and spiciness? Plus I had to fight my feline master away from eating my lunch! This mix should last at least a week if lathered on right.

Not Just Tuna Salad

Three cans of tuna, solid in water
three chopped and deseeded jalapenos
a cup of chopped parsley
a cup of chives or green onions
a can of artichoke hearts (available in most groceries)
a half cup of capers (rinsed)
a cup of black (or green) olives (rinsed)
Two cups of spicy mayonnaise (I used a mayo that had chillis in it, but you could use regular mayo, or half mayo, half cottage cheese)
Black pepper to taste

Mix all the ingredients together and mash till blended together. I didn't crush the olives, as they add chunk to your salad. Either dollop a couple of tablespoons into a lettuce cup if you're going low carb, or spread a liberal half cup of it in a crusty baguette. Add tomatoes, or roasted red peppers. Eat, and feel hearty.

Rainy day lunch

Prepare spaghetti in a pot of salted water.
Take chinese sausages, sliced into chunks. Parboil them till tender, add a tablespoon of canola oil and brown. Add rough chopped garlic and two tablespoons of the pasta water. For seasoning, sprinkle cayenne pepper to taste, and italian seasoning (a medley of dried herbs).
When pasta is ready, drain the water, add it to the pan of sausages.
In a small bowl, mix 4 oz of hard cheese, I used manchego, and two eggs at room temperature. Mix till creamy. Take the pasta and sausages off the heat, add to the egg and cheese mixture, and use tongs to mix. The hot pasta will cook the egg mixture. Top with more cheese and chopped parsley before serving.


Chinese sausage + spanish cheese = quintessentially filipino

Cooking is like a woman dressing up

Ferran Adria cooks in a New York apartment for a New York Times reporter, check out the video! I don't think I'd have the faith/strength to fast (as the reporter had to given it was Yom Kippur) if I knew that one of the best chefs in the world was coming over to my home to cook a meal for 6.

Riverbanks

The LA river is the antithesis of what a river could be. It's a concrete gash, looking more like a long sewer, cutting through the least picturesque parts of town, and not exactly tourist friendly. You don't see any options for a promenade, no trees lined up along the banks, and I have rarely seen it actually flowing with water (the only exceptions are when there's been a strong thunderstorm and streets are a wee risky to drive on).


It's a river that evokes gritty urban images, I'm sure it's been filmed in more than its share of movies, and I could be wrong, but it might have been the location of the car race scene in Grease. Ok, not the best example of grit, but that's the only thing that comes to mind!


The banks are littered with graffiti. The concrete slates are prime canvasses for expression. I took these photos on the train, and noticed a few weeks later on my return that some of the work has been whitewashed (city government pouring in money to eradicate petty crime). People may see graffiti as simply hooligan activity, but there is a layer of art. If I had a better shutter finger, I might have been able to take better photos, not to mention telling the train engineer to slow down!

Olvera St.

Across from the Union Station in LA is the center of the city's historical district. LA has history? It may seem like a city without any connection to the past, but LA did not simply spring up from the hills of Hollywood. In the late 1700's 44 families were sent by royal command to settle in the pueblo that is now part of the vast metropolitan sprawl.

Olvera St. is now the location of a Mexican handicraft market, cultural plaza, and connects visitors to a taste of what LA might have been like some centuries ago. It reminds me of the hispanic market in San Antonio, Texas, full of stalls and stores selling woven rugs, ponchos, leathercrafts, dolls, glassworks, sculpture, and food.

It's sleepy on weekday mornings, but on Sunday afternoons, it comes alive with visitors, tourists, and musical events.

The start, Union Station, Los Angeles

The last of the great Union Stations built in the 1930's. The structure is a Spanish-adobe with marvelous interiors. Wood panels, soaring ceilings, spanish tiles.

Thelma and Louise (...not)

My friend P is an outgoing, ex-GSK manager, world traveller, and newly married. In her days in Manila, she was quite the independent woman of means, who drove herself (sometimes without a license or license plates!!!) all over town and around Luzon. She had no fears zooming in and out of the lanes. It was quite the surprise then to see her unable to get onto the freeway here in the US!

She hosted me and another friend for a day of pinoy food, and continued her hosting duties for me through the weekend. She and her husband made sure I got to see their town of Livermore, a northern California city about 40 minutes from Oakland. After a day of church going and quilt gazing (more on that another time), we went off to get ourselves some ice cream and chat away from the heat of Alameda County (searing heat). I gently suggested that we turn right and enter the freeway but she budged. It was soon discovered that she had made an attempt earlier this year but it was a nerve wracking experience, not helped by her husband's presence. Given that she drives a light blue truck, completely antidotal to her very girly outlook in life, it was high time to take the truck on the road. I pointed out that anyone who could drive south superhighway was more than capable of driving some easypeasy freeway, especially on a Sunday!

With some ice cream courage to boost us through the experience, we took to the first exit nearby, I told her to keep her speed steady and not to break at the first sign of a merge; we found a good speed and revved up as we entered the 580, the lack of heavy traffic was a boon to her courage. We took it out for a few miles, exited, and then backtracked to the exit heading south, and found our way back to her main street. Success!

Not sure what day it is

It's not quite jetlag, but my body does feel like the constant travelling over the last week (or maybe more) is pressing down on bits and parts that I've neglected over the last few months (or years, decades even). There was the three day train sprint, transcontinental, which was full of gorgeous scenery, interesting stories from co-train travellers, innumerable people watching (and judging), thinking, musing, and scratching. Ay, three days without a shower is enough to drive me crazy. I don't know how other people manage, but I did have to mentally work hard not to scream out in frustration over the lack of water. My kingdom for a shower!

But the glorious end of that test of endurance lay in the beautiful city of Portland. Perfect weather waited for me at the end of my three days, and while the city's denizens may contradict me, it was magical. Crisp, clean, blue skies, easy on the skin sun. We ate at friend's homes for two nights, otherwise I would have had more restaurant notes. But there's nothing like convivial eating and gathering over a home cooked meal, so no complaints from me. We did have a lovely day of sweets and wines, and the essence of the trip (Powells!) was never going to be skipped over. In this current state of grogginess, I won't attempt to do justice to my short Portland foray (I'll wait till I have a tipple of the lovely wine finds when I'm back!). Maybe I'll follow a friend's suggestion and make word cloud tees out of my love for the city (Erath, Argyle, August Cellar, St. Cupcake, Voodoo Donuts, Butter Bunny...).

I'm back in Sunny California for the rest of my stay. I will reunite with girlfriends who have married and moved here over the weekend, and by next week revisit one of my favorite gardens. There's a great deal of thinking left to do.

Best flowchart out there

Thanks to a link from a friend, I found the Bacon Flowchart! For all my bacon loving friends (and you know who you are), remember wear pants when frying bacon.

Be still my gurgling

My stomach is upset. It gurgles, it roars, it screams. It's upset because it's owner has tried to taste as much of the neighborhood's treats all in one day. And it's not going to take anymore. From pupusas and horchatas, to local chilli, to fish and broccoli, and way too much dairy, add to it some local soul food, my stomach has had to suffer all that the upper end of the body has been tempted with. The eyes have seen and have been tempted by too much on offer. The mouth opens to accept the temptations once they have been purchased and plated, with help by the hand to raise it to the mouth. And as the brain analyzes each taste and tingle, the stomach is forced to process all of it. It's not happy. I send mental apologies to it, and sip on hot water. I promise not to put it through that again (or at least not for a few days).

On the road

I've arrived in DC and am settling into my friend's guest room, overlooking a lovely park in the northern part of town. On the fringes of Adams Morgan, the weather a crisp and pleasant reminder that fall is on its way, and the full moon pulling out one's inner werewolf.

I've been on the road/tracks for a week, have been to Chicago, Bloomington (Indiana) and now DC. The days have been full of architecture, history, weather, chinese language (more on that another time), and food, just to name a few. I've never spent a lot of time in the mid-west, but can imagine myself spending more time in Chicago if given the chance. Villages within the city make life seem far more intimate; lots of color from all the immigrants that have made the city's history rich and vibrant. A city of spires, both religious and secular. The latter centers around the downtown, where skyscrapers compete for attention, new ones on their way.

My first experience waiting out a tornado warning, as the sirens wailed outside, we sat in the basement of my friend S' house, nibbling on cheese, olives, crackers, and drinking cava. We skyped with her in-laws who said "you should leave that place! how can you live in a town with tornados?", while the baby scampered around, not really caring that a possibly disaster approached. The rest of the weekend was a bit rainy and cloudy, the damage of the approaching hurricane (Ike) which roared through Texas only apparent after I left Bloomington to head back to Chicago. Since Bloomington is a campus town, there was little to do other than to make one's own entertainment. Thankfully, trying to keep up with a two year old is enough to keep all the adults on their toes. We feasted when she slept, and there's nothing like ingenuity to satiate our bellies; not a bad way to spend the time, making aoili for steamed artichokes, tossing together a chinese style fried rice, cobbling together pumpkin risotto, serving a full jewish breakfast of bagels, lox, eggs, and an assortment of drinks, and capping the weekend with a steak, grilling even in the face of stormy weather.

So far in DC, we've dined on Belgian style bistro food and picked up creamy frozen custard. Looking good so far.

Chugging along on the train tracks

Jetlag is over after a 7 hour straight snooze (on the smaller sofa I discovered after waking up curled, fetal position, in my day clothes, horrors!, but pretty comfortable in any case). My friends are about to bid me onwards as I take my first leg of the train trip east, up to Chicago (unless I am swayed by the sight of the Grand Canyon at the stop in Arizona), and after a few days there, to see good friends at Indiana U. Next week will find me in DC, then back on the train west to Portland for donuts and wine and Powell's (my definition of Nirvana). But let's not jump the gun, as it's been a relatively relaxing few days in the city of Angels. Had good meals: Mexican breakfasts (chilaquiles and horchatas), Thai noodles for midnight dinners, Hawaiian breakfasts of pancakes plus portugese sausages, japanese ramen, pizza, and an ube shake with pulled pork at the Oinkster (thanks M and B!). I also treated friends to a whole grilled fish at the San Pedro Port O'Call, watching the seabirds attempt to snatch at the overly buttered garlic breads (or perhaps I should call them loaves since these were not a slice or two of white bread, nope, these were 18 inch mammoth loaves slathered in butter and garlic. Those birds better have their cholesterols checked.).
Thanks to R, I've finally gotten to see Olivera St., and we caught Wicked at the Pantages. Has it only been 4 days?

Pardon me, I need to puke

Two back to back news items make me want to scream - the Intramuros Development Administration cut down over 20 full grown trees in a park in Manila. All that's left are stumps, with numbers callously scrawled in red ink. DENR will sue them under RA 933, a Marcos era law that states anyone who is found guilty of cutting down trees in parks and other national spaces can be sent to jail for 6 months. I say that's not enough of a punishment. All of those idiots who are in charge of that office should be made to recycle all the biodegradable garbage in the city of Manila for one year, and plant 100 trees for each stump they left behind. If any of the trees planted die, they'll have to plant 50 more.

The second piece made me feel even worse. A Vietnamese fishing boat was caught with what looked like 100 pawikan (sea turtle) carcasses. Full grown adult turtles, they won't be around to grace our reefs. The environmentalist interviewed said he felt bad. I felt sick to my stomach.

Balut diplomacy

At a food event yesterday afternoon, I think there was headway made in making balut less of a fear food! A visitor from S. Asia was treated to a fresh 18 day balut, and she ate most of it! So kudos to her! And to all you folks out there still afeered of the duck egg, I say to you: qvack.

Chote Chitr: City walks, part two

After circumnavigating the outer perimeter of Nang Leong market, I chose my path to my next destination, the well reviewed Thai restuarant, Chote Chitr. Based on reviews, it was a short walk from the Democracy Monument, along Thanon Tanao. My walk led me past the Democracy Monument and along a road that hosted a lot of lottery ticket vendors. Quite curious how they work, which as a non-Thai speaker leaves me with endless questions. Why are they all clustered like that along a three block radius? And why do they sell the tickets at different prices? Or were they the winnings?

Passing the landmark and turning left on Tanao, the street turns into a mix of small commercial offices and a few parks. I started to wonder where the small alley of Phraeng Puthon was located, asked a few store owners and was told to keep going. I did see a sign that pointed more to the left than straight ahead but my gut instinct led me straight down the road until another query to a lady in an old shoe shop showed me I wasn't more than a few meters from my destination.

Chote Chitr's been written up in many online posts and reviewed by food critics. What I found true of all the write ups is the simplicity of the place, which hasn't expanded beyond the 6 or 7 tables it has had for probably a generation or two; the presence of the owner's dogs, two shitzus and a chihuahua (who was the real boss of the place, making sure the younger dogs kept to their side of the restaurant several times); and the food! Instead of going through the menu, the owner, Tim Krachoichuli, asked if I would like to try the daily special, a steamed fish curry in pandan leaves, and suggested the famous banana leaf salad. I was happy to let her choose what I'd have. Both dishes were marvelous! The first bite of the fish curry was intense, a red curry with fish and lemongrass and basil. There were three pandan cups of the curry, with cucumbers and tomato slices to cool the tongue. It wasn't fiery, but flavorful. Yes, I was sweating like mad, but I didn't feel uncomfortable with the heat of the curry. The steamed custards are the perfect portion for one person, but wait, there was the salad coming up!

The banana blossoms salad is more like a stirfry with shrimp, chicken and julienned banana blossoms. Non-asians might wonder what exactly a banana blossom is, but we do use it in all sorts of dishes. Locally we cook it with coconut milk and langka, or add it to kare kare. The dish at CC was cooked with fresh banana blossoms, on the verge of crispy, sauced with spices, and the meat. It tasted fresh and relatively light. As it's one of the restaurant's signature dishes, definitely ask for it when you're there. Ms. Krachoichuli suggested I come back for their crispy noodle dish, and if I'm back in Bangkok, I'll make sure to bring friends there to see if their more attuned Thai taste buds agree with me.

Chote Chitr — 146 Soi Phraeng Phuton, a ten minute walk from the Democracy Monument, Bangkok.
Phone: 66-2-221-408

79 out of 100

There was a recent post and survey on Marketmanila about what kind of eater (carnivore, omnivore, vegatarian, etc) one might be. I'm definitely in the omnivore category, can't foreswear meat or vegie or fruit or chocolate. Really wouldn't be much fun left in living if you have to cut out so much of the temptation in life. On the blog "Very Good Taste", the writer has posted a list of 100 foods all good omnivores should consider eating at least once. This tends to be Euro/N.American-centric, or I just think Asians eat from a wider choice of sources. Anyway, here's the challenge, read instructions below and see what kind of an omnivore you might be!


1) Copy this list into your blog or journal, including these instructions.
2) Bold all the items you’ve eaten. (I've italicized and bold the ones I have eaten, but they may still be hard to read.)
3) Cross out any items that you would never consider eating.
4) Optional extra: Post a comment here at www.verygoodtaste.co.uk linking to your results.

The VGT Omnivore’s Hundred:

1. Venison
2. Nettle tea
3. Huevos rancheros
4. Steak tartare
5. Crocodile
6. Black pudding
7. Cheese fondue
8. Carp
9. Borscht
10. Baba ghanoush
11. Calamari
12. Pho
13. PB&J sandwich
14. Aloo gobi
15. Hot dog from a street cart
16. Epoisses - let's be specific, the cheese from Epoisses, not the village itself
17. Black truffle - shavings count I suppose?
18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes
19. Steamed pork buns
20. Pistachio ice cream
21. Heirloom tomatoes
22. Fresh wild berries
23. Foie gras
24. Rice and beans
25. Brawn, or head cheese
26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper
27. Dulce de leche
28. Oysters
29. Baklava
30. Bagna cauda
31. Wasabi peas
32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl
33. Salted lassi
34. Sauerkraut
35. Root beer float
36. Cognac with a fat cigar - i've had the cognac sans the cigar. Half point?
37. Clotted cream tea - I've had a traditional english tea with clotted cream and scones, but I didn't add the clotted cream to my tea. Yak butter tea, now there's a way out there kind of tea!
38. Vodka jelly/Jell-O
39. Gumbo
40. Oxtail
41. Curried goat - hmm, does kalderatang kambing count? It's not a curry, but it is stewed goat.
42. Whole insects
43. Phaal
44. Goat’s milk
45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more
46. Fugu
47. Chicken tikka masala
48. Eel
49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut
50. Sea urchin
51. Prickly pear
52. Umeboshi
53. Abalone
54. Paneer
55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal
56. Spaetzle
57. Dirty gin martini
58. Beer above 8% ABV
59. Poutine
60. Carob chips
61. S’mores
62. Sweetbreads
63. Kaolin - this seemed like the weirdest bit on the list, but as I checked, a lot of our fruits and vegetables are sprayed with a wax made of kaolin, plus medicines we take for indigestion have kaolin.
64. Currywurst
65. Durian
66. Frogs’ legs
67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake
68. Haggis
69. Fried plantain
70. Chitterlings, or andouillette
71. Gazpacho
72. Caviar and blini
73. Louche absinthe
74. Gjetost, or brunost
75. Roadkill
76. Baijiu
77. Hostess Fruit Pie - I've had a Twinkie and that's all I'm ever going to eat from Hostess.
78. Snail
79. Lapsang souchong
80. Bellini
81. Tom yum
82. Eggs Benedict - on one of the blogs that did this list, the writer said they hated eggs ben, I'm the total opposite, I declare my love for the benedict.
83. Pocky
84. Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant.
85. Kobe beef
86. Hare/rabbit - I added the rabbit, but if you're really picky, then only highlight which bunny you've eaten.
87. Goulash
88. Flowers
89. Horse
90. Criollo chocolate - hmm, chocolates from Venezuala, I think I've had a bittersweet from Venezuela but can't be sure it was Criollo....
91. Spam
92. Soft shell crab
93. Rose harissa
94. Catfish
95. Mole poblano
96. Bagel and lox
97. Lobster Thermidor
98. Polenta
99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee
100. Snake

Nang Leong Market: city walks, part one

As a tourist, there are places you must see in a particular country or city. You hit the museums, the parks, the sports stadiums, the restaurants, trek out to a volcano or castle, and for food lovers, the markets. If you've been to a place more than once, you have the opportunity to wander down the less travelled path, and peek into the lives of residents in more detail. If you're lucky, a few befriend you on the way, and allow you insight to better understand the context of their lives.

I've been to Bangkok more than a few times over the last ten years. Good friends who live and work there are reason enough to go visit, plus there's the added attraction of great food, crazy shopping, and the spirituality of the wats. When friends T and L announced that their new baby boy was going to be born in August, a few more friends and I decided to celebrate their new addition with a visit. We knew this might be the last time to catch up while they're in Asia, as they will be back in Eastern Europe for another year.

Other than celebrating the new baby (who manages to sleep through any noise level! Such a sweetheart of a boy.), I knew I'd have a couple of mornings, and most of Monday to ramble. What would I do for those spare moments? I've seen every single wat and shopping mall, plus my fair share of the canals, wet markets, and street food. This time around I wanted to walk into more residential neighborhoods and be a nosy passerby. There were two places in particular that I had on my sightseeing periscope - lunch at Chote Chitr and finding the old market of Nang Leong.

One of my favorite food blogs, Eating Asia, is composed of the talented duo of Robyn and Dave, her writing + his photos = magic! They seem like a great couple with an amazing nose for market foods and adventurous eats. They've helped me find food in Manila! Bangkok is a favorite city of theirs and they have many posts about the city's markets. One of their favorites is Nang Leong, a venerable city market that is hidden away in one of the city's many urban neighborhoods. Built in 1899, it was one of the first markets that was not built on the canals. Over the century, it has remained the center of its neighborhood, but it disappeared from the city's travel literature and maps - don't expect to see any markers for it. Reading Eating Asia's tribute to the market on their blog and in an article on the Wall Street Journal, I decided I had to go in search of the market, spend at least an hour wandering around, and finding me some good eats.

I started out later than I had planned, as breakfast at chez Eugene had to be downed properly. My able host, his nephew, and a good friend all pooled their talents to make a homecooked meal, and I wasn't about to be a disrespectful guest. By the time I tore myself away from the comforts of my home away from home, it was 10 am, and the heat was on high. Mental debate ensued - take a cab or walk to the corner-get a motorbike to take me to the skytrain-take train till Victory Monument-then cab it to the Golden Mount?

One straight taxi ride later, I got off at the Golden Mount, a wat built in the shape of a mountain. It was extremely quiet and unburdened by tourists, and I would have spent more time there if I wasn't aware that I didn't know where the market was and had to do a hide and seek walk. I headed in the direction of the Royal Princess Hotel, which was on the corner of the area I had marked as the market's location. I was tempted to duck into the airconditioned hotel lobby to cool off after the short walk, but I persevered, and started to round the corner along the street. I saw a vegetable truck go into an alley, and figured whither goeth the vegies, there lies the market. My instincts proved correct as the tight road wiggled in and around the market. I soon found myself in the middle of Nang Leong, where no more than twenty vendors sold fresh fruits, vegetables, butchered pork and chicken; the rest of the market was taken over by food stalls, and the perimeter of the market was where family diners (for the lack of a better description) sold great bowls of noodle soups, curries, and all manner of thai food. I stopped inside one of the inner market stalls, and bought myself a plate of noodle salad made out of wide rice noodles, dried shrimps, a stew of chinese mushrooms, pork and tofu in a herby soup, topped with fried garlic, chives, and chilli. I ate my second breakfast at one of the metal tables, giving a smile at the older gentleman sitting diagonal to me. He returned the smile and began to chat me up. He was Dang (possible misspell in the name, but that's the closest phonetic rendition of his name), 65 years of age, and a longterm resident of Nang Leong. A retired civil servant, he proudly showed off the newly built market roof, and pointed to a corner diner for the best curries. He offered to get me a bottled water, but what I needed and bought was a glass of manao or slightly salty lime juice, my favorite refreshment after thai iced tea. We were sometimes joined by the beverage stand owner and his personable dog. The dog follows his owner to the market everyday and keeps watch over the tables. Dang helped me buy a guava as I headed off down the road towards the Democracy Monument, and I left Nang Leong happy with my short communion with Thai life.

Ganache goodness

I was meeting with my cousin and her husband for dinner in Hong Kong last Wednesday, and wandering around before the dinner, I saw with my little eye that there was a La Maison du Chocolat store in Pacific Place. Oh dear. I could feel my credit card's fear as I approached the store.

I was one of less than five customers in the store, and there were more than enough salesladies per customer. The one who served me was a perky young girl who was happy enough to let me consider which of the many choices I wanted to take home. She asked if I was a nut, fruit, praline fan (no fruits or alcohol centers please!). "I'm a nut." Heehee. Seriously though, I wanted something with coffee or a citrus base, so I choice two of the Guiyaquil, two of the Arneguy, and two of the Bresilien. But that was not the end! For I saw the gift boxes, and scooped up two of those containing a selection of ganache, and a dark chocolate bombe (this humongous ball of chocolate with chopped hazelnuts), and a box of Orangettes, dark chocolate dipped orange peel, and (yes, one more!) a box of macarons. There would have been more, so much more temptation in that little store than in many a department store.

After sharing with family and friends, I finally had time tonight to curl up in bed, have two of the ganache squares, and savor the dark chocolate flavors. Two was not enough, life is short, and there are no more to tempt me from inside the refrigerator. My favorite is the coffee ganache, it floods my mouth with dark chocolate, creamy coffee, a perfect match of flavors. No bitterness even with the dark chocolate. It takes me awhile to finish my selection, I can't rush this kind of enjoyment. One square at a time to respect each ganache.


Address: La Maison du Chocolat, 2nd Floor, Pacific Place 1, Hong Kong.

Four scoops

"You brought good weather!" A proclaimed on Saturday, after I woke up to a sunny day in Bangkok. He told me it had been raining and the days were cloudy for several days; I thought it would be a rainy weekend since it had been drizzling hard when I arrived late Friday evening. The sun decided to follow me from Manila, so I didn't have to use the borrowed umbrella, or worry that my shoe choices would be a waste slogging through muddy streets.

However, there's such a thing as too much sun. And today, after never-ending brilliant days, blue skies, intense sun, I just couldn't take it any more. I was hot, tired, and dusty. I had found the market and the small family run restaurant on my list of things to see, I had walked for what seemed like miles even though it looked like six (maybe 7) blocks from one wat or another. My mind needed airconditioning. I flagged down the first taxi that stopped before me, and headed towards the mall.

Down in the gourmet market of Siam Paragon, it's easy enough to find succor from the heat. There's the basic food court on one side, a Japanese food display touting all sorts of goodies, countless international food options that run the gamut of budgets, and further along the main walkway, more restaurants that weren't terribly busy for the late lunchers. I headed straight to Iberry, where I had two scoops, one of the Italian coffee and pistachio. Friend J raves about iberry's black sesame, but I had just had a wonderfully intense black sesame bun which meant that I needed something else to titillate my taste buds. The pistachio won't win awards, but I must say that the intensity of the coffee ice cream was atmospheric! It was like a frozen ball of espresso, with bitterness in the aftertaste and caramel creaminess. It wasn't a great match with the pistachio, however, so if you opt for the italian coffee have something like the vanilla or the chocolate to go with it. The coffee tends to overwhelm any partner, and the pistachio didn't stand up to it.

After a couple of hours and trying to get my courage back up to face the heat outside, I wandered through the supermarket section and saw a gelato stand near the cashiers. Great positioning SP folks! The fruit gelatos were whipped and decorated in their Carmen Miranda-like glory, but I wanted vanilla, and they had a vanilla bean gelato with a lot of black specks. I don't know what ice cream devil was living in my head at the time I placed my order but instead of getting a fruit flavor with the vanilla, I pointed to the white chocolate container and ended up with this white on white cup. The vanilla was quite pleasant by itself, while the white chocolate was one step away from being frosting. I took my time licking each dewy morsel of both flavors, people watching, wondering what duties took the woman sitting to my right to collapse in an intense snooze out in the middle of the food court, and enjoying the cooling colors of the aquarium. The late afternoon glow told me it was time to head back to my friends' apartment, pack, and catch my flight home to Manila.

Stadium fashion

I'm spending a lot of my free time watching the Olympics; if there's ever a reason to quit one's job in August, it's to time it with an Olympics year, so that you can spend hours watching fencing, or synchronized platform diving. It may have been worth spending a wee bit of money to get a season's pass, which would have meant a lot more hours of tv viewing. But then, I'd never get done with all the other sedentary past-times I have planned for my extended vacation.

One online reference I found related to the Olympics is the New York Times video article about the opening ceremonies fashion. I was stuck in an airport at the time of the opening ceremonies, which meant hearing about it second hand from friends over lunch the next day. Seeing close up photos of the teams walking in with a fashion critic giving input helps put some detail on something not too many people think about - what are they wearing when they walk in en masse on that field?

The critic makes a comment about team USA's blazers, that they don't seem well made, and given the location of the games, my first thought was that Ralph Lauren must have had them outsourced in China. I did like the caps they wore, rather jaunty. So many of the large teams chose blazers, and the French team looked quite dapper (no mention of which designer got the job for that outfitting). The Australian team's sports jackets made them look like the watercube arena, perhaps if you have the entire team pose in front of the stadium, they'd be camouflaged.

Today's theme may all be fashion focused, as this article on the Financial Times suggests that pink is not only for girls. I sort of like imagining the Etro dark purple pants, or the extremely tropical look of a lavendar shirt with tangerine linen blazer. Dark suits or earth tones don't have to be the only way of expressing oneself. Live a little. Walk on the fuschia side.

Bullet travel points

1. Checkpoint redundancies: why do we need three people to check that my passport and ticket match? At the other international airport, they only have one check at the main door, while at NAIA 3, you go through three! One at the main door, then right after your luggage is scanned, someone else checks that you have your documents, and just before you pay the departure tax, some man come running after you to check your boarding pass. Yeesh.

2. Cebupac still doesn't know which departure gates to print on the boarding pass. So they tell you to hover around three gates till they inform you around half an hour before the flight departs.

3. Sign on the water fountain: Water unsafe for drinking.

4. Ceiling panels continue to heed gravity and lay bare pipes and lighting fixtures. Pillars are unpainted. Sections remain unfinished, with bare bricks and cement floors open for inspection.

There remains a great deal to be done for NAIA 3, so let's remain positive and look forward to the continued improvements.

Finally, for those of us who aren't rushing around when landing in HK, there are free shuttle buses that take you to specific spots on HK island, assuming you get off on the HK side of the Airport (I'm assuming the Kowloon side has the same service). So with a 20 minute wait at the bay, I got a bus to Causeway Bay, and felt a bit better saving some money. Granted the cost of the MTR would have been $4, so maybe it was false economy. Maybe I should have used some of that spendthrift sense buy bringing an insulated bag instead of buying one at the grocery later that afternoon.

My kingdom for some cheese

HK done, Cebupac worked out. I'll detail some comments about NAIA 3 and Cebupac later, but for now, let me just say that after not living in HK for ten years, there are more reasons to move there, specifically availability of dairy items from all over the world. When I lived in HK in the late 90's, there were gourmet shops, but they were much smaller in scope, City Super hadn't expanded yet, and the EAT section under Seibu was a lovely respite from the otherwise lackluster groceries.
Now, even the basic grocery has enough cheese and yogurt to excite me, and if you do spend a couple of hours in City Super (I was at both the Times Square and IFC branches - kudos and many thanks to their concierge guys who helped me make sure I could pack my dairy goodies for my flight later that evening), then you will have either 1) want to live in the cheese display (much smaller than the cheese caves at Whole Foods in NY or some of the cheese stores in Europe, but who cares? They have a fantastic array for any Asian country), and/or 2) buy every kind of churned, raw, salted with fleur de sel butters - I saw french, welsh, alpine, italian, belgian, irish, vermont, and german. I wanted every one, but chose only two to bring home. And for friends J and M(squared), I brought home a motherlode of greek yogurt.

Addendum: come to think of it, I was the only person who didn't have a check in bag when we flew in to HK, and probably the only one who checked in an insulated bag full of perishable butter, yogurt and cheese on the way back. Clothes, bah; electronics, who needs em. But give me some milk products and I'm a happy camper.

Fear of flying

NAIA 3 is not a month old and all I'm hearing is disastrous news, horribly late flights, cancelled flights, and a general mess. Cebu Pacific has moved all their domestic and international flights to the new terminal. A letter going around by email details the horrible situation with Cebupac flights since they transferred to the new terminal: 24 hour delays, cancelled flights, poor management service, lack of information or basic details like departure gates, and a general sense of mismanagement (that might be like describing Rome burning during Nero's time as a bonfire).

Unfortunately, I have three flights on Cebupac over the next three weeks. This Friday, I have to take a quick trip to Hong Kong, next weekend I head to Mindanao, followed by a short visit to Bangkok. Travelling is so fraught with tension and stress these days, plus rising costs due to the price of oil. I am going to start praying for commonsense to descend upon the Cebupac management and hopefully they will have fixed their mess before Friday.

She's 100 years young

2008 is the 100th anniversary of the publication of Anne of Green Gables, by LM Montgomery. The first in a series of 8 books, AGG introduced legions of young girls to the life of one Anne Shirley, a spunky 11 year old who changes the life of the people in the town of Avonlea, from the brother and sister who become her foster parents, to her peers like Diana and Gilbert, not to mention the eccentric villagers who are brought to life by Ms. Montgomery. Since the publication in 1908, millions of the books have been published, translated into dozens of languages, and turned Prince Edward Island in Canada into a literary tourism center. Young Japanese women are particularly inclined to go on Anne inspired tours, going as far as dying their hair red, and painting freckles on their faces. Not to mention holding wedding ceremonies near the tomb of the author!

I read Anne of Green Gables as part of an annotated book series as a child, but it was only when I found the entire series available through Penguin that I indulged in escaping in Anne's life. Anne may have been the Canadian version of Pollyana or Heidi, but as one of the few fully fleshed out characters in young adult literature, and one of the few that have managed to last as long, she's in a class of her own. The books have been made into a long running musical, a miniseries, and movies. I enjoy re-reading Anne of Green Gables and the first sequel, Anne of Avonlea, as Ms. Montgomery's ability to evoke scenery and the gentle sweetness of village life makes the books classic.

If anyone is planning to head over to Canada for a bit of touring, considering joining in on the Anne of Green Gables festivities, running till November. For my part, I will dig out my books and imagine myself walking arm in arm with Anne, Diana, and the Cuthberts in the enchanted forest.

The existential cat

Food foraging

Food friends find Manila a frustrating place to live, because of the difficulty in finding consistent purveyors of ingredients. You may end up going to what seems like a million places just to put together a meal. Supermarkets, farmers' markets, specialized delis, and, if you're lucky to know them, importers bringing in the high end goods. There's been a growing interest in exotic food (exotic to the Filipino palate), but if you like something and have marked down a store as a source, there's no guarantee that they'll have it again a few months down the road.

An acquaintance complained that she couldn't find refried beans anymore, and even in places that I know used to stock the items, I couldn't find them. Same with when I had a hankering for edamame, I had to go to three stores to find myself a half kilo of the legumes. And don't get me started on sourcing vanilla extract or vanilla beans.

At a recent visit to the Healthy Options store in Shangri-la Plaza, I did see two things that might interest those friends who share a joy in discovering a new item available in the local market. HO is a higher end store, targetting the growing population of Filipinos and residents who need access to gluten free, sugar free, lactose free and other foods created for health conscious demands. Organic, free range, high fiber.... It's the closest thing to a Whole Foods, in a very small scale.

First find was dried buttermilk powder (Bob's Red Mill label), which you can mix with water for recipes requiring buttermilk. Since I've made replacement buttermilk by adding a bit of vinegar to regular milk, I don't know if I need a pouch of dried buttermilk in my pantry. But hey, I can now make a pancake mix with the dried buttermilk, give it away for gifts.

The other find was at the milk substitute wall. Along with the soy milks, rice milks, almond milks, I came across a small supply of horchata! A rice/almond based drink with a strong milky consistency and cinnamony flavor, it's very popular in Mexican taquerias in LA, plus friend J said she loved them in Spain. All the online references to horchata seem to source it to Spanish conquistadors bringing it over in the heyday of Spain's colonial period in North America. It does seem to have become popular in Mexican society, and it's definitely a favorite and refreshing drink when eating spicy, salsa laden tex-mex munchies. I had my first horchata in LA late last December; finding a box of the drink in a local health food store was exciting (in a food forager fun way).

*************************************************************************************

Food finds at the market can go both ways - heading out early in the morning expecting a fried cruller only to be told they don't cook when it's raining (what???); having lunch with a feast of coffee barbecue ribs, bacalao, and waray adobo over paella (I mostly wanted the tutong, toasted rice bits at the base of the paella) with friends. I coerced a friend to taste the homemade buko-lychee sherbet, and we also tried the japanese pancakes cooked hot and fresh near the roasted calf. So many more inspirational tidbits, and it's always one favorite way to spend a Saturday morning.

Corregidor haikus

Straggler ("struggler")

Japanese mountain
soldier who does not know that
war is over na




Best eaten chilled

"Your favorite break
enjoyed in air-conditioned
places, Kit Kat Bites"

Winning the night

Not to generalize but what sports bars are to Americans, pubs and particularly quiz night pubs seem to be a British/Irish animal. With very few real pubs in this town, the only place to head out for a night of pub food, beer, and social gathering around trivia is Murphy's, along Rufino St., Legaspi Village.

The first time I attended one of the quiz night events (Tuesday's from 8 pm onwards) our team composed of two Americans and two Filipinos, didn't do too badly. We seemed to have hit our stride with Irish films and actors (go DDL!), but lost it when it came to Irish sports and politics. We patted ourselves on the back for making it as far as we did, had some sticky toffee pudding and promised to do it again.

Unfortunately, the two Americans had to move on to another post, but last night, with the encouragement of another set of expat friends, I joined a team that was diverse in all manner of speaking - race, age, experience with quiz nights. We had folks who were strong in general information, literature, sports, and surprisingly science (we were all taken aback by how well we did in the latter topic). It worked out to our advantage that we maintained a steady score for most of the topics, and only faltered in one area - geography (ports in Finland? mountain passes in Eurasia?? gah!). At the end of a nail-biting evening, two teams breathing down our necks, we scraped by with a win! The lemon-pledgy shooters notwithstanding, we enjoyed working together to get over 80 answers right. B+ for us, and a free roast lunch one of these Sundays.

I want a death ray

A book and a Broadway musical by the same name, Wicked took the perspective of the Wicked Witch of the West. The same author of Wicked took another fairy tale and churned out another book, asking how the stepsister of Cinderella felt during the whole glass slipper incident. Within the sci-fi genre, there's always a crazed scientist, loosely based on Dr. Frankenstein and probably a throwback to another form of egotistical madness brought on by the desire to rule the world. Mad scientists are a great form of entertainment of course. They have their robes, usually white, their dorky sidekicks (Igors), high tech laboratories thrown together from what seems to be wires and switches, and usually found in isolated locations. And the laugh. Mad scientists must be able to laugh; insane laughter goes with mad scientist (fill in your own SAT question here)....

Josh Whedon, the creator of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, has created his own mad scientist and shares what an evil guy to be wants out life. Do they not bleed? Do they not love girls from afar while doing laundry? Do they not enjoy a large service of froyo? During the writer's strike late last year till the early part of 2008, Mr. Whedon and a few of his acting friends put up an internet movie in three acts. Make it a three part movie musical. Dr. Horrible's Sing-along Blog is a downloadable dark comedy, noir romance; boy meets girl, boy wants to be evil genius, boy loses girl to nemesis superhero, will the boy get girl back and win membership into evil league? Watch and find out! See Dr Doogie Howser sing!

Calico

My cat, Gabi, is in a very touchy feely mood today. It might be the rain, as she prefers to stay nearby when it pours outside. Today, she's rubbed my legs a lot, jumped on the couch for a few minutes to sit by me, and then took a nip at my toes. Argh. That isn't kibble, missy!

Gabi is a calico, otherwise known as tortoiseshell. She's predominantly white on the underbelly, with a swirl of black and orange. She has white booties on her front paws, and the black pattern makes her face look a bit like a Venetian mask during Carnivale. In the morning, she chirps, demanding to be fed. As I walk down the stairs, her meows become more insistent and I may be deluded, but it seems to be in perfect time with each step I take.

She's never had to show her skills with mice (and I hope I never have to find an offering laid on my feet), but she kills cockroaches! I owe her eternal gratitude for not having to kill them myself. I just have to make sure she doesn't eat them.

I don't think I'll ever take a photo of Gabi that would be posted on the uberblog Icanhazcheeseburger, but this photo is my vision of her with a bit of futzing (my fault!).

In the 80's

Fiddled with the online radio, couldn't quite figure out what I wanted to listen to - started with jazz instrumentals but felt myself dozing at 8 am. Changed to Big Band Vocals, and squirmed when listening to a sappy rendition of "East of the Sun, West of the Moon". Brit pop, my head started to hurt after two songs, and I was starting to feel disillusioned with music.

Then I popped over to 80's music and found myself singing along to George Michael, Rick Springfield, Spandau Ballet, Human League... and all is well in the world. Enough energy to keep me awake, some nostalgia, some silly songs (Whip it)!

Sunday's end

12 hours into a sleepy Sunday, with a few things accomplished, nothing of much import. The dog is clean though, and I actually managed to finish one sudoku puzzle; I had not been having much luck with the ones I had found, and finally got one done! I'm rewarding myself with a simple dinner on a rainy night.

Last Friday I wandered over to Santi's (Rockwell branch) and rummaged through the vegetable bin. There were several packets of brussel sprouts, a large basket of plump tomatoes, assortment of lettuce, mushrooms, and herbs. I took one of the b-sprouts, and saw, hidden behind the braggadocio tomatoes, a small container of what I thought were more sprouts, but upon further investigation, turned out to be very young looking kohlrabi! Wow! The leaves had been trimmed and likewise their elegant stems, but otherwise it was a hidden treasure indeed. I took it into my basket as well, tucking it gently among the sprouts, the nut bread, and some cheese.

Tonight, I roast my brussel sprouts, lightly tossed in olive oil and salt, while my kohlrabi is sliced along with some apple slices and a quick chop of dates for a crisp, slightly sweet, and refreshing salad. A healthy dinner reward for a pleasantly quiet Sunday.

Bad rap

It's a relatively early Sunday morning, there's a full length animated Ironman movie on Star Movies. After sipping a cup of hot tea, I realized the central story had Ironman fighting the hordes of some resurrected bad spirit, a chinese mandarin whose last descendent, Li Mei, is the paramour of Tony Stark. As I watched the fight between Ironman and stone warriors reminiscent of the Qing Dynasty warriors discovered in Xian, I thought that it must be some kind of coincidence that the upcoming Mummy movie (the third installment starring Brendan Fraser et al) is also centered around a resurrected "Dragon Emperor" and his stone warriors come to life, whose only ambition lies in world conquest! Using my movie esp, I foresee scenes where all the stone warriors are shot and beaten to mortar and dust in the action flick, just as they are blown up by Ironman's laser beams. Methinks this is not so subtle China bashing from the entertainment sector during a potentially controversial Beijing Olympic year.

In season

It might be a bit early, but I found a good stash of mangosteens at the Sungee fruit and produce store near my office (along Pasong Tamo Extension). Pricewise, P160 a kilo, so I got four plump looking ones, and paid a bit over P80 for them. I'm waiting till I get home to have my way with them, for I am not a neat mangosteen eater and I must have solitude when tearing them open, sucking each sweet globule down.

Last year, after a visit to sunny southern Mindanao, friend M sent us home with four kilos of mangosteen each. Freshly picked from one of the islands nearby (and better known as a refuge for bad pirates), we were thrilled to have our personal stash of these lovely fruit. Maybe I should text M and ask her for a couple of kilos when she returns hither. I'll swap cheese for mangosteen! I'll buy her flowers! I'll make her eggs benedict!

4 without rival

"Is this a sans rival restaurant?" "Why do they have four kinds of sans rival?" "I'm getting drunk from the sugar." "Are you a crunch or a chew?" "Malaswang buttercream!"

Being a part of a food society has its perks. We get to attend great dinners, taste darn good wines, and become friends with amazing and talented women. Three of those amazing women and I have regular email exchanges that make us sound like cake-maniacs. We've been tracking down sources of the tastiest tidbits for a few months now, and last night we finally sat down to our first horizontal tasting.

A horizontal tasting is not about us collapsing in a prone position from stuffing ourselves silly. It's about one type of cake, four to six different sources, and enough taste buds to confirm, argue, critique, and absorb, and in a big splashy (or not) finale, announce what we think is the best of the set.

Last night, our focus was the multi-layered, buttery, sweet, and nutty Sans Rival. It is a difficult cake to make. Layers of meringue, topped with layers of buttercream, a good spread of nuts. Before pulling the collection together, we had to decide if we would bring traditional or non-traditional types of sans rival - cashew seems to be the agreed traditional version, but there are pistachio options and macadamia versions available too. Eventually, after some long email debates and face to face voluble dialogue, we bowed to tradition and chose only cakes with a cashew topping.

We were also facing a bit of a deadline. There was a sans rival that had been brought from the province and was in the freezer awaiting its destiny. We knew that we were already compromising the taste and texture factors by waiting it out this long and it would definitely not improve with age.

The other cakes, all sourced within Metro Manila, came from recommendations of other food/cake lovers. Flurries of texts about who was going to attend, last minute flaking, and tasting notes ensued, plus agreeing that no way were we going to survive on sugar alone. Good thing that K is the owner of a restaurant! She made sure the cakes were properly stored, and that her team were ready and willing to feed our hungry maws.

When the time for the cakes came to pass, we herded ourselves over four luscious looking specimens - the provincial offering, maintaining integrity even after a week of waiting, two circular pieces, and a large rectangular cake. We named them 1, 2, 3, and 4. Our hopes that no one would decipher which cake was which didn't work out since most people knew the shape or box size of most of the cakes. Note to self, have the cakes pre-sliced ahead of time!

We tasted cake 1 first, and even with the time lag, it definitely made most people murmur in appreciation. It has a slightly salty buttercream without a great deal of nuts, and a chewy interior.

Cake 2 had a lot of layers, we counted 7 but could have been 8. It was also notable for a strong nutty flavor, I thought more than necessary. The first of the crunchy cakes, it was one of the stronger contenders.

Cake 3 looked great on the outside. Smooth buttercream finish, a distinct sprinkle of nuts on the top, and when it was cut, definite layers of meringue and cream inside. Taste-wise we were underwhelmed. It was sweet. It didn't make us want to eat more, and some found it lacking in that necessary something that makes you want another bite. A pretty cake for parties, but it won't go down in our annals of great sans rival.

Cake 4 jostled with number 1 for champion's title. Some liked it for the seemingly intense buttercream exterior, however I argue that any cake that is plastered like a brick with buttercream only to show negligible coating inside the cake is a farce, coy, a tease, or worse. It was crunchy, and had lots of nuts, but many of the nuts were a tad too brown for me.

After a lot of noisy arguments (and sugar induced logic), the majority agreed that number one was still the champ. It got extra points for not only standing up to a week's worth of waiting, but for an overall strong presence. Not too sweet, a tasty buttercream, consistency in layering, and even the pro-crunch advocates agreed that in the end, it made us happiest.

This may not be the last of the sans rival taste tests, for we know there are many more out sources out there. Will the Visayan champion stand up against the ones we read about in Davao, Pampanga, or Laguna? And what about those non-cashew based nut cakes? Are they to be left in the annals of cake-dom? Till the next cake chapter!

Picnic food

Mark Bittman (the Minimalist) posted 101 tips for meals in 10 minutes, now in light of the summer season in N. America, he's written up a list of 101 picnic dishes. Many of them would be great for daily munchies too. I particularly like the idea of the edamame salads. Look through the short list of cold noodles and there is the kimchi sesame noodle dish again! I will take it as a sign that I've got to have me some kimchi and noods! Pack these meals in your bento boxes for the kiddies, so they don't turn towards the bag of chips and sugary juice drinks.

The weather on this side of the Pacific is not conducive to picnics, not unless you're into packing rain jackets and boots along with the wicker basket and red checkered cloth. Today's weather speaks of soup and hearty bread, a stew, and hot chocolate. Mulled wine.

Beginning in the middle

January to June are long gone, half the year is over, and I've chanced upon surreptitious christmas jingles in the bookstore. At this point in the year, I've decided to go back to old habits, or perhaps renew old vows. Yes, the dread of going back to the gym is upon us. I've signed up for a full year and I will actually haunt the place on a regular basis.

With the renewed energy of plunking down money for the service, I went off to buy vegetables and healthy (fiber-rich) food. Friend J had posted a quinoa breakfast dish recently, and while I like changing my cereals every so often, I do prefer the wheat like product as a salad. Perhaps its due to the first quinoa dish I had in salad form - with cranberries, pinenuts, and peppers, tossed with a balsamic vinaigrette.

I had no luck finding cranberries, but there's this free box of dates at home, and good looking asparagus in the market, add an orange and I put together the quinoa salad care of the recipe I found online here.

It's hearty and stick to your ribs (and palate) kind of salad. It would probably work with raisins as a substitute for dates if you just can't find them, but I do think dates aren't as difficult to source these days. The sticky texture and gentle sweetness blossom with the orange pairing. This dish makes me want to throw together a date/orange shake with yogurt!

I'm planning to put together a few more of the hot weather recipes that the folks at Serious Eats put together; I have a big basket of baby potatoes for an easy salad, and a lot of buckwheat noodles for making the kimchi-sesame noodle dish. I will reek of garlic after noshing the latter so I best make it for a weekend night, when it's just me and the cat and dog.