At the Nape of a Mermaid

Barbecue!!! in Ormoc

2009-04-01T20:42:00.011+08:00

Our Tuesday badminton session was canceled so of course -- is there anything better to do than eating barbecue on a Tuesday afternoon when your badminton session is canceled? Well actually, there are a lot other things, but we refused to think of these others. When I pitched the barbecue idea to Maica, it was clear she was already thinking of barbecue because she said an instant yes. We called up Iana and told her to get ready. This girl diets like crazy, but even she can't say no to barbecue. We called up our favorite neighbor, Alyssa, and thankfully she was home and excited to go, and what-a-surprise, Kuyahhhhhng was home as well. Whee!

SO this is what happens when your Tuesday badminton session is canceled. Here we go!

There are only two places in Ormoc where you can expect good barbecue: at your own homes and at the P10m barbecue-han in the city plaza. (P10m!?!? Tell me about it.)

In this barbecue-han, everything is barbecued: chicken chicken, chicken gizzard, chicken heart, chicken blood (yummy!), chicken liver (atay!), isaw (or chicken intestine), chorizo, fish. It reeks of carcinogen, really. But the doctor says it's okay as long as you don't go everyday.

There are a lot of manangs to choose from. We don't have a suki yet so we just approach any of the manangs selling close to the entrance. We can never be too sure about the freshness of the meat, but certainly, we can tell which ones are appetizing and which ones are not. It's also easier if the manang you choose offer all the goods you want, so you don't go through the inconvenience of paying different vendors after eating. But if you're nicer and you want to split your generosity, it's your choice.

The fan is the coolest technology in the area; keeps the langaws away with no effort from manang. I don't think Cebu's lartian even have it. (They don't have a P10m budget, I suppose.)
The best barbecue is grilled the old fashion way.

The dining area is a long hall, but you have to sit in the tables owned by the manang grilling your barbecue, which are always just beside their stalls. There are two dining halls: one is bordered by the river and the other hall, by the skating rink. If you are especially sensitive to smell, I don't suggest sitting by the river. It can get very smelly. You wouldn't want that with your isaw or atay!

Over barbecue, they bond.

Kuyahhhhhng is back!!!... For 2 weeks anyway before summer school starts. Alyssa will join him in Ateneo starting this year and them two shall be bestfriends in no time. (Already, they're cringing at the thought :D

Make-all-you-can sawsawan! Iana nearly blinded herself with all the sili she squeezed and forced into that bowl.

P2 puso, which is a very sad thing because that's not too heavy to shell out. Your mentality would hypnotize you into eating all you can as it is that (so-called) "reasonably priced". Gr (wait 'til it adds up). And that it is that small would fool any dieter into thinking, 2 small pusos plus 2 small pusos equal to 1 cup of rice. Yeah, right.

Chicken Barbecue, P25-P30.
Batikun (Chicken Gizzard), P15-P20.
Chicken Skin (a must!), P2-P4.

(Price range given as I'm not sure what the exact price is. I did not bring a wallet to our barbecue session so I had no business joining in the calculation and anxiety over the total bill. That's how I get away, which they call mean ;)

What's barbecue without isaw? P3-P4.

Happy face. After the meal, we counted how many sticks each of us finished. Shamefully, I came up with the biggest number, at 15.

Busog faces. 2 bottles of 1L Sprite (but ofcors!). 20 pusos. 2 sticks of Chicken Barbecue. 30 sticks of Chicken Skin. 20 sticks of isaw. 6 sticks of Chicken Gizzard. Whew.

Must-visit in Ormoc: barbecue-han at the City Plaza. Ditch your diet and see what P10m supposedly looks like. That is, if you're not already a P10millionaire.

~~~
Special request.

Stations of the Cross

2009-03-30T21:08:00.006+08:00

(It's not quite right that the name of the priest integral to this post, and even the name of the Hermitage, escapes me now, so I apologize in advance.)

So the story goes that an Italian priest touring the country paid a visit to the Hermitage in Kananga, Leyte and fell in love with it. When he went back to Rome, he sent over money to the sisters in the Hermitage to have sculptures built in the forested area next to them chronicling the Stations of the Cross. In local currency, the money totaled a million, and back in Rome, the depletion of his entire life savings. Humbly, he told Mother Tita, the Mother Superior, "Sister, I'm a pauper now."

Last week, pop invited all of us to the Hermitage, for our yearly homage to the walk that Jesus was made to do to His death thousands of years ago. The construction was recently finished. I found that the life-sized structures are not without flaws. They are not works of art. You will likely spend a lot of time studying the curves dulled or overdone by the concrete works.

But the generosity was not made in vain. At the end of the homage, I was slightly reeling from the resonance of the meditation that pop read before each Station. The significance after all is in these meditations. It is after all, in our remembrance of the sacrifices that Jesus walked through, and not in the aesthetics of the commemoration.

Thank you, to the pauper priest from Rome, whoever you are. By giving these gifts so we will never forget, I believe you will always have your mark in this Hermitage, as it had left its mark on you.

The last Station.Each Station is enhanced by a landscape. There's a paved pathway that follows these Stations along the perimeters of the area. In the middle are grown gemelina trees, a collection of which imbue an enchanting atmosphere. It was a long but meaningful homage we did; and visually dramatic with the splendid natural landscape of fields and mountains, and not to mention the glorious sunset that visualtracked our own walk.This collection of gemelina trees is enchanting. I bet at night, it is enchanted.The hills are alive.Last note (by the toilet).

BTW: the Hermitage is very strict now. Ladies in jeans are not allowed, whoever benefactor you are.

~~~
(These photos are not very good. In my next visit, I'll dare to take out my camera more.)

Camote with Ginamos

2009-03-30T13:33:00.002+08:00

My mother eats a lot of weird stuffs. Individually, these stuffs are not weird, but when positioned together to be eaten as one, it sounds weird, it looks weird, it must taste weird. What do you think of boiled camote (sweet potato) and ginamos?

How to make ginamos:

Again, our dearest manang, nang Boning cannot name the fish she used for the ginamos. She attempted a dire guess: small libud, but I wouldn't suggest to trust her on this :D I would however suggest to go to the fish market yourself and ask what small fish can be used for ginamos. Anyway, on to the ginamos recipe care of nang Boning:

Give the small fish (fresh preferably) some washing.
Saute onions in a hot pan with oil.
Add the small fish, including their natural juice.
Saute until ready (er, i'm not really sure when it is; until you get this gray color i guess)
Put out the fire.
Pour in a small amount of vinegar and mix. Don't be too harsh though or you'll break the weakly-boned small fish.

Ready!
Get weird!

Of course, like a seasoned eater who is ready to tackle anything (except for eggplant in any way, and maggot ala Fear Factor), I tried this myself. I find the ginamos too dominating to the unwanted sensation of dank and unpleasant -ness in my taste buds. The sweet potato is pointless. I should have tried the ginamos with rice, but didn't because I already decided the ginamos is not for me.

Badmintoning in Ormoc

2009-03-30T09:41:00.010+08:00

If there's one thing that makes the sport, badminton a winner, it's its establishment among Ormocanons as a hobby. Every new trend that succeeds in permeating this sleepy town's consciousness has first to see itself through a phase to determine if this sleepy town's inhabitants would want to integrate it in their lifestyle, or simply to dip their toes for a test in its curiously interesting waters. Badminton has long passed this phase and thus, is no longer a trend. Given the Ormocanons' notorious brand as a fickle bunch, that's an accomplishment. Rarely does any trend make it through halfway.

Case in point: the bike shop tito Rex, a biking enthusiast, set up. I think it continues to draw people, but it wasn't it used to be at the peak of the biking craze that hit mostly married men in their 30s and 40s in 2007 & 2008. Even my sister got into it with tio Perok and tita Rina. Group sessions and fun races were scheduled almost every week, to Isabel or to Lake Danao or to where-have-you. During that time, it was regular to see a couple of them hunched on their bikes taking the Ormoc streets on. In the middle of last year, my sister has to quit biking when she moved to Manila for a 6-month course in Fashion Design. Fast forward to the last few months: Tio Perok has no more mention of a bike-a-thon to anywhere. It was cool while it lasted though.

Biking of course is not a lone case. According to cousin Monic, even dancing apparently was just a trend among the Ormocanons. She is one of the trio that owns Ormoc's only happening bar, Dustriya. People who used to hit the dancefloors are either tired of dancing, have gotten married and pregnant and too heavy to do the basic sway, or are convinced they have two left feet and cannot do a decent dance even if it would save their lives (these are not Monic's observations, but my wild guesses :). Of course, it all boils down to that it has ceased to be cool. Her trio, she mentioned, is even considering of turning it to an extension to their more successful venture, the dining haunt, Pardy's.

~~~
So lately (like months ago, with a lot of absences in between), my sister Maica and I got into badminton with friends Ate Vans and tita Baday and cousin Mady. The only place to be seen playing badminton at is Badminton City in Baranggay Linao. I say this with no bias (the owner is my cousin's boyfriend -- now ex -- and a very nice guy at that); Badminton City is the only place in Ormoc that has genuine Taraflex courts. Frankly, I don't know what that is and can't even feel the difference in playing on concrete, but that's what the pros say (so i agree). Even the owner of the only other place that has a badminton court (IS) plays at Badminton City.

Our group-imposed schedule that we successfully followed only once in our entire badminton career (that's only 3 months in the going if you want to be exact) is on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Beginners will be comfortable on Thursdays and Saturdays because the pros don't play these days and generally, these are not badminton days for many. The pros, if I have to define them in Badminton City context, are those who can block a smash, who move in a graceful, speedy gait, who don't notify the entire place of their scores after every update, who you don't want to play next to. So there.

Charge: P160/hour (I need to double check if they still offer the P25/head all-you-can-play on Sundays)
Best time to play: 4-6 pm (especially on Tuesdays, before everybody arrives -- don't ask me about the other days)

Other comforts:
There are comfort rooms and shower rooms to shower and change in.
There's a cafeteria and a Japanese Restaurant (the only one that survived in the city, therefore the best).
There's a small shop where you can buy anything that you will need for play if you left all your equipment at home: fast-dry shirts, shorts, gummy-soled shoes, rockets, shuttlecocks, etc etc. There are pingpong tables.
There are computer games (for the kids).

Badminton City has 8 courts with Taraflex floors. Frankly, I don't know what that is and can't even feel the difference in playing on concrete, but that's what the pros say (so i agree).

Air-conditioned lounging area.
The mini shop where you can buy anything for play if you left your equipment at home (and too lazy to pick it up).
Yummy Japanese! Must-orders (pardon, the Japanese names escape me): tempura (with bread crumbs), chicken teriyaki, salad (with the mangoes, crab meat), California Maki.

A coffee shop will soon open beside this restaurant. Coffee after badminton?

My playmates: Ate Vans, Micachoo, and Mady (plus Bien, my willing model)

Sariling Sikap Meals

2009-03-20T19:09:00.008+08:00

I am very proud to share the recipe of a salad dressing I made yesterday. I searched the internet for inspiration, specifically one that does not require what we don't have in our kitchen. Apparently, that's too much to ask, even from Google, since there's not a lot in our kitchen to start with.

However, I have Olive Oil, an ingredient that's magical in the sense that it makes almost everything taste better since on its own it tastes good. We have two brands in the kitchen, Dona Elena's Extra Virgin Olive Oil from Turkey, and the one my Sydney-based cousin-in-law Phuong uses, the Wollundry Grove Olives, grown and bottled from an estate in Wagga Wagga, NSW. I use the one from Sydney for special preparations like salads and baked chicken for three reasons: 1) it smells significantly better 2) the bottle is really chic 3) it was a gift from Phuong, with whom I cooked a lot while I was in Sydney. The other, Dona Elena's, I use for frying. :D

So anyway, here's the only salad dressing recipe that I felt confident with, despite the meager resources. I didn't add the lime and berries as it had suggested, but only the base ingredients:

chopped, minced garlic
vinegar
olive oil
black pepper

I didn't mind the measurements though. Just pour it all in until you make the mix edible, or shall we call it, dressingable? :D

Salad dressing mix: minced garlic, vinegar, olive oil, black pepper.

I loves lettuce!
To make easy eating, tear the lettuce into small pieces. Fork in a few leaves, dip in the sauce, coat with parmesan cheese, then fork in strips of chicken. I used the leftover chicken adobo (with no sauce) from lunch. We Filipinos love making adobo recipes our own way, but nang Boning's (our cook) is excellent, let me spread some love (and excellence) by sharing it as well.

Chicken Adobo:

Marinade the chicken with garlic, salt, soy, and sugar. Fry.
Yup, this is it. Did I surprise you?

I find it stupid that croutons are sold off the shelves in the grocery since it's the easiest thing to prepare. Slice the sandwich bread into these tiny cubes then toast. So simplicity! I use wheat bread.

Lettuce love -- goody and healthy!

~~~
Alyssa and I finished the last two heads of lettuce last night so I made Lerma, pop's secretary, buy two more from the grocery store this morning. For lunch, I wrapped the fried fish nang Boning made with a leaf of lettuce then dipped it in American Garden French Dressing which smelled and tasted of too-much mayonnaise. I abhor the smell and taste of mayonnaise so I added Nestle Full Cream to the dressing to make it less mayonnaisey. Still did not work. As a result, I did not have 3 servings of lunch, which is always good.

In the afternoon, I made a sandwich before Iana and I jogged like our lives depended on it (well, not exactly our lives; but definitely the weighing scale's).

I shall call this, well, a yummy sandwich. I'm sorry it does not really look nice, I already had 3 full bites before I took these photos.

What's inside: nang Boning's fried fish, lettuce, parmesan cheese.

Nang Boning's fried fish:

Marinade the fish with salt and garlic. Wait for a few minutes. Before frying, coat in egg and cornstarch.

Nang Boning apparently doesn't know fish talk as she's clueless as to what kind of fish she had just cooked for us. Well, for a start: it has to be boneless. You really couldn't see what you're biting into with the yellowed cornstarch, right?

That work in the middle? That's what our sandwich maker does. We loves it. :D

~~~
Sorry for the hazy cooking instructions. I got these instructions from our equally hazy cook, our dear nang Boning. God bless her!

Bihud for Lunch

2009-03-18T13:49:00.004+08:00

My mother stole the leftover bihud mamita had prepared for our family dinner last night. She served it on the lunch table today, but when I was about to scoop a spoonful for myself, she snapped at me, instructing me not to get too many since it was supposed to be for her, and her alone. I ignored her and hurriedly scooped several spoonfuls into my plate. I could feel her glare seep through my skin. Sorry mother! So for the first time ever, I had bihud for a meal. Spontaneously, I realized a bihud meal is not a bihud meal without rice.

YUM-MY!

I called up Nang Inday, one of mamita's cooks to ask where I can buy bihud and how bihud is prepared (for future meals, when I feel like preparing). She explained that they got the bihud (fish roe) from the belly of a big fish they bought fresh from the market. She's not sure if it's sold on its own. The bihud is contained in a sac. Before she takes it out from this sac, she first boils the sac in vinegar and garlic. When it's ready, she squeezes the roe out and sautees it with chopped onion and garlic. The last step is to boil it in tomato sauce, thus giving the bihud (at least, in the above demonstration) the orange glow.

Loves it, reminds me of a meal by the beach.
And I miss the beach :D

Family Dinners

2009-03-18T09:55:00.003+08:00

Mamita called everyone to her house in Bonifacio Street for dinner last night. She is leaving for Cebu this afternoon, and then for Beijing on Saturday to visit tito Papao, tita Chona, and the kids a second time around in 6 months.

Gatherings at Mita's house is something we all look forward to almost every week. She is a perfect host. There's always fish and chicken on the buffet -- fish for those on a diet (and in this Lenten Season, there are many of us in the family abstaining from meat) and fried chicken for the kids (which, ultimately, the adults finish).

For dessert, she usually gets candy or chocolates from the little fridge she keeps upstairs in her room (which is loaded with so much goodies, I want to call it the Witch's cottage, with reference to the classic storybook, Hansel & Gretel). However, she came from Tacloban on the same day so she served us instead, one pack of pastillas she bought from Carigara. Now, the pastillas from this little unassuming town some 45 minutes away from Tacloban is so good, I wonder why it's not heaping loads of money for its recipe makers. While it's very good, it's also very elusive. You can't buy it anywhere but only at the home/store/carenderia of the one who makes it; and you can't buy it at any time of the day. I wish I can tell you how to nail them at the right time, but I'm not sure. I guess, you'll just have to be lucky.

The best thing about the gatherings at Mita's house is of course, each other's company. We (by this, I mean Mita's Ormoc-based sons and the families) actually live within a [scream's] earshot away from each other in Cogon. But we take this nearness for granted that we never really take the time out to see each other. Mita's beck and call to her home or to the beach in Seguinon, Albuera or to tito Bingcol's resort is a break from our respective bubbles. Over food (lots of food) and chatter (lots of that as well), we gather our individual lives and piece them back together like a puzzle. When it's complete -- oh look -- we are family again.

The Ormoc-based brothers tito Lito, tio Bingcs, and popsy (sans the roadtrip manager, tio Perok who disappeared out of the evening's blue) discuss our upcoming roadtrip in the northern part of Luzon in April with Mamita (whee!).

The in-laws: mother (married to Mayong), tita Rina (to Perok), tita Judy (to Bingcol), and tita Ems (to Lito) have a discussion of their own.

Gotcha mother! Always eating :DIf you excuse from your diet to eat pastillas, better make it Benny's Special from Carigara to make the fresh calories worth an add to your scale. (Benny Monte Alegre, Brgy. Binongto-an, Carigara, Leyte, #09205660603)

That's how it looks before and after I shove them up my mouth. (Carigara's pastillas are my favorites sweets; I don't eat it menudo style.)Tita Rina and her baby Ben.Two-year-old Ben, lost in the midst of women talk (I understand Ben, they don't exactly speak your mumble-jumble language noh?). Menu for the night: dinuguan (Pork Blood Stew), kilawin (bold guess: pork and beef rind?), spare ribs (which I didn't get to enjoy in virtue of my no-pork-no-beef Lenten promise), bihud (fish roe sauteed in onions, garlic, and tomato sauce), grilled fish, and Nang Inday's pancit.

Nang Inday, mayordoma of Mita's Bonifacio Street abode, and cook of my favorite versions of dinuguan and pancit!

The kids: newly-freed from school and ready to live it like how it should be at SUMMERTIME!!!Peter, Bieni, Andre, Rica, Kyra and Josh (and Maica -- NOTE: no longer a kid.)I hate doing this, but my feet always lead me to Mita's scale each time I find myself in its presence. (Last night, it read 135 lbs)
Marvin -- who just had his first prom and first prom dance with Alyssa -- and Alyssa, soon-to-be high school graduate (and a valedictorian(!!!) at that). In June, she's off to the blue courts of Ateneo.
Mita's Massage Chair (we loves!!!)... And here is the famous Witch's cottage. My current favorite from this trove is a chocolate-coated biscuit from Marks & Spencer. Wherssit?
Toys generally are a load of fun and make full of sense (if not always to adults, then at least to kids for whom they are made). This one, which baby Ben brought to dinner last night, tops my list as of the moment. It's a plastic box with 4 rectangular blocks each reflecting four different images of either the head, the eyes, the mouth or the body of a cat. You can twist and turn the blocks to create a cat that is friendly, angry, nervous, amazed, or (supposedly) 196 other states of emotions.
This one looks like it needs to poo.

St Paul's School Ormoc Foundation, Incorporated (whew!) Kinder 2 Graduation Day

2009-03-16T10:04:00.006+08:00

When my sister Bieni graduated on Saturday, March 14, two other things graduated as well:

1) her endless practising of their graduation song, Hand in Hand (FYI: official anthem of the 1988 Olympics in Seoul), whenever, wherever (and which we didn't have the heart to stop at the beginning or midway because you know, she's just a kid who memorizes a song that everyone else does not, sabay actions pa that go with every, single word)
2) her countdown to the graduation day, which she repeated throughout the day like a perpetually snoozed alarm clock

So to speak, every one in the house gained so much relief on that Saturday.

Congratulations, love!

And did I mention she got a special award for Best in Art? Whee! So I told her (not within earshot of my pop of course), "Bien, it's okay not to be best in Math or Science, basta Best in Art lang! Whoohoo!"

Best in Art!!!
Our pretty morena :D

Bieni and best cousin and nemesis in alternate moods, Kyra

Mother of Pearled Kyra, the kikay bedecked with her mother's pearly graduation gifts

Joshie (who in this photo takes after the dapper boy's handsome of his Kuya Marvin)

Joshie, the second Most Outstanding Student of the batch of 106 kids, welcomes everyone to the ceremonies (good job, Joshie!)

I don't have anything to say about the girls' uniform pink dress (except that it's really tacky, not of the P1000++ material that it's supposed to be worth at). The boys' attire however, forwards them to 20 years after. They all looked handsome.

In her closing speech, ma'am Nanette forgot she was speaking to 106 restless kids. By the time she said she needed only two minutes more, the kids were already jumpy and keyed up to go home.
Whee! Mita's kindergarten graduates this year: Best in Art Bieni, second Most Outstanding Student Josh, and Merit Awardee Kyra

Christina, Bieni, Kyra, and Tasha, with Josh in front

~~~
An advance shout-out to my cousin Alyssa Rodriguez, valedictorian of St Paul's School Ormoc Foundation, Inc (whew!) Batch 2009. She is graduating this weekend. Whoohoo!

How do you measure, a year in the life?
How about loooooooooooo-ve?

Can You Stand this Guy?

2009-03-15T21:43:00.008+08:00

Let's name our antagonist Narcissus. You can call him Narcis.

"Look, Narcis, chics!"

Narcis steered his attention away from his drink on the table and followed his cousin's lead, to a plus-sized woman in a short spaghetti-strapped dress walking past our group towards the plaza. Her dress wasn't skimpy and oozing with fats. The only accessory that was oozing right out of her was confidence, and I admired that. But he sneered, "Fat women don't have the right to dress sexy."

Everyone in the table had a common reaction -- Hooooowat are you saying?

"Wala silang karapatan," he repeated, as if it wasn't clear. Though it was obvious each soul in the table wanted to give Narcis a verbal spanking, they maintained their poise and laughed it off as another of his infamous shows of superficialdom and i-am-greatness.

But I couldn't sit down with it. If there was anything I hate more than haughtiness, it's haughtiness expressed with not a single morsel of remorse. It didn't occur to me that expecting remorse from the haughty is like praying for a rainbow in one painfully hot summer day. So I asked, with a clearly annoyed emphasis, "You mean to say, fat women should not dress sexy at all?"

Narcis nodded, with a half-smile, half-smirk.

Oh my gawd, he is smirking!

Ok, ok, ok, I have heard a lot of times about the remarkable attention and care Narcis performs for his physical and aesthetic well-being, and his seeming condescension towards people who are physically challenged. In a farmer's territory like Ormoc, this is translated as metrosexuality or for a lot of people, he-is-gay-ness. But just because he takes more time to dress than 10 male Ormocanons combined do, I didn't want to expect that he is exactly that, petty and skin-deep, and just that. After all, Narcis keeps a politically smart and personally insightful column for one of Ormoc's weekly papers.

BUT, as that night showed (to me for the first time -- the others pretty much knew they can expect that from him any time), he is just that. He reserves his wit only for the paper and his two-dimensional mouth for the rest of the time. What's more shameful is that he seems to be snooty proud about it. It's almost like he enjoyed everyone's reaction to his reaction.

Thankfully, he left our table early. He said he had to go home and take a bath.

Focaccia Sandwich & Oatmeal Cookies

2009-03-15T00:36:00.007+08:00

I work as official alalay of Maria Cara Rodriguez, HR Head and Sales and Marketing Manager of Mayong's Bakeshop and Snackhouse. Our office is located at the second floor of Mayong's Commissary "building" in Aunubing Street, Cogon. Below our office is a huge kitchen where many of our products are prepared and baked before they are sent to the different branches, and where the many experiments for new products and new tastes are done. If you're on a diet, this is not a perk. On one fine afternoon, the chief baker, Warli, went up to our office with trays of:

Ham and cheese sandwich with Focaccia bread.
Very good job on this one, guys! I love ehhht! The blend of ham and cheese was not overwhelming at all (like how it is in pizzas). In fact, the cheesy taste is almost not there, but there's no doubt is there. The blend is so delicate you don't know what to make of it. But you don't fuss over it too much, because the bread is so soft and tasty it seems to be the point of this sandwich. There's only one glitch I can speak of: onions. They put too much onions on that first run.

Hopefully, if this will breeze its way through the scrutiny of all four brothers (poppy Mayong, tito Bingcol, tio Perok, and tito Lito) with flying A+++, then you will find this in all Mayong's bakeries soon.

Take a look at that!
And this!
I have high tolerance for sweets. This is why I'm addicted to it. The above goody has no name yet, but let's call it Oatmeal cookie (it sounds less fattening than, let's say, choco treat or death by choco or something).

Oatmeal cookie reminded me of Revel bars that you find mostly in coffee shops. But it's been a while I had a Revel bar so this one hit me at first bite like, WHOA! It was delish, very fresh-from-the-oven soft and unthreateningly sweet. The oatmeal half does not taste oatmeal and the choco half does not evoke sugar! fats! calories! It has such a pleasant taste to it.

If this passes tita Emily's scrutiny, this will be included in the Carmen's line of goodies soon.

I hope the scrutinizers won't be too harsh. But if ever, well, at least they'll do my weight a favor.

Margarined and Garlicked Chicken

2009-03-14T19:54:00.005+08:00

Since I got back from Sydney, Iana and I had probably tried a dozen ways to marinate and bake chicken. With our first recipe, we rubbed garlic, rosemary leaves, and olive oil all around the chicken. I sliced small holes in the parts that were thick with flesh and inserted garlic bits and rosemary inside. This is what my cousin-in-law Phuong taught me to do with the beef, so the flavor will permeate the thick meat. I thought it would work with the chicken, and indeed, it did. I love the smell of rosemary, and the taste it leaves on food, so I enjoyed that experiment. We baked it for a little over an hour. Our timer doesn't work normally, so we gauged how it was doing in the oven by the strength of the smell of the chicken wafting out of the oven. Seriously. Only when the air was thick with the smell, we decided it was ready.

The chicken above is another variation care of my sister Iana. We ran out of rosemary leaves (which we realized would make any dish really good, whether it was really good without it or not), so Iana made do with only margarine and the ever-reliable garlic. She sprinkled the top with peppers to give it color. It worked!

Bake for over an hour, or... well, just trust your sense of smell.

Giving Sabin a run for his money -- NOT!

2009-03-13T18:25:00.003+08:00

My sister Iana and Bieni had a great idea! one day. They saved the crowns (heads) of the pineapples we bought from Sabin's for Maica's birthday and planted it in mother's fruit/animal farm in the vacant lot across our home. They got this know-how from our cook, Nang Boning (shout out to Nang Boning!). I don't know where she got this info from but the internet would confirm that indeed, the crown of the pineapple can be planted. The other parts that can be planted to yield fruit are the slips (offsets that grow from the stem) and the suckers (offsets that grow from the base of the plant). The same website would advice:

"Pineapple plants do not enjoy wet feet. They require sandy soils with good drainage. For this reason, the pineapples are planted in purpose-built raised beds that follow the slope of the land. Subsurface drains are laid on soils that are not friable to a depth of 600mm. Pineapples are drought tolerant and will produce fruit where yearly rainfall is 370mm to 600mm. This means that elaborate irrigation systems are not needed. The sun-loving spiky plants..."

Ok, that's so technical, which I think is unnecessary unless you want to beat Sabin in his pineapple game. If you're just happy-go-lucky farming (like my sisters and mother), and you jump at the sight of the smallest sprout (welcome to the club), take a crown and plant away.

Boys of the 'hood

2009-03-11T23:51:00.006+08:00

I woke up yesterday, Tuesday to find these boys still in their PJs hanging out in our garage and playing with the new members of Chin's extended family. (Chin stands for Chin-chin, the dog my dear cousin and buddy Ida gave me in 5th grade and who inspired mother's love affair with small dogs. She died when I was in 3rd year college of hit and park.)

Meet Ben and his Kuya Andre
Ben obviously doesn't mind being the 6th puppy
The mother for some reason doesn't mind her head being shoved around by this white kid. (Pardon me, but the mother's name escapes me now. I'm sure it starts with Ch. After Chin-chin, my mother's instruction for strict compliance is to start the names of all our new pups with Ch. So through the years, we've had the company of a Chippy, Chiquita, Chitay, China, Chucky, Chocolate.)This surprise pulling-his-pants-down is a routine we do with Ben, who just hates it!
Awww... look at his distraught face. Love you Ben!
He sought for an ally in his yaya Karen, who didn't do anything but laugh. Poor kid. Love you Ben!Perok's boys: Peter, Jr. (he wasn't his usual charming self that early morning and didn't want his photo taken), Kuya Andre and Baby Ben.

Candy Talk at the San Lorenzo Ruiz College

2009-03-10T22:47:00.004+08:00

I spent the whole Friday, March 6 at the San Lorenzo Ruiz College upon the invitation of the Vanessa Siloterio-Romero (who if I should sum up in a few, is a walking testimony of God's gifts of love, happiness, courage, and forgiveness). She convinced me at first mention to be one of the mock interviewers in the mock interview activity that was the culmination of her seminar for the graduating students of the Cebu Doctors University-affiliate based in Ormoc. San Lorenzo approached Ate Vans to give the students a sneak into the reality that is the job market.

The point of the mock interview was to give an idea of what happens in a real one. I pulled out my formal khaki pants and somber black blouse from the closet, a bit wrinkly after staying in folded position since I resigned from my former job that required them, so I would look credible. My favorite questions in the list of 50 that Ate Vans gave me and the other mock interviewers as guide were: "How would you define success?," "Why should we hire you?," "What are your strengths and weaknesses?".

I expected that many would have preferred finishing a different course, but due to family pressure and the practicality needed in these dire times, they are graduating with a Nursing degree instead. I was right. One girl originally had her heart set on either the Police Academy or the Philippine Military Academy. Another girl, who even in her crisp white blouse with vertical blue lines and smart trousers failed to hide the fun-loving and happy-go-lucky girl that she is, cannot think of herself in the long haul being in the strict confines of a Nurse's life. She would rather be part of the risks and adventures that fill up a businesswoman's daily grind.

But through time and the graded experiences, they learned to enjoy and to some extent, love the job of a nurse. They all agreed that the most rewarding aspect of the job is to receive confirmation from the patients that they feel better under their care. Majority of the students who were assigned to me have no plans of leaving the country in the near future. If their words were of truth, then our hospitals need not sweat too much. But I do hope they will grant more significance to a Nurse's job. Needles, blood, and all -- it's no joke.

On a self-reflection mode, I saw myself many years ago in many of the ladies I interviewed. A bunch of them, completely with no-how on what to be honest about and what to keep to themselves in a job interview, confess lack of self-confidence that they allow like coffee to hinder their growth. I came clean and told them like Candy (Magazine) would that I was once a big bore with no confidence. Thankfully, I wasn't made of enough dense to not notice I missed a lot of things because of it. Quickly, I grew out of it. It's a state of mind, I told them.

Sigh, when I was in their place in my time, I had nobody to tell me that. Well, except for Candy Magazine (but, duh).

yeah!
far left, that's Ate Vans for you. the graduating students
my desk space (I was so thirsty from all the Candy talk I emptied the Fontana juice and the Coke bottle with not a single thought about calories)

~~~
Good luck to all those I have interviewed. As my father would say, I hope you find your place under the sun.

The Madame, the Confused, and the Little Window

2009-03-06T19:54:00.005+08:00

The photos above are of my mother's little window. She installed it on the wall in our lanai, one side of which facing our house's extended living area, and the other a field of sugar cane, lost in this residential area but looking alive and inspired. My mother didn't wax romance when I asked her why she had it installed. She almost shrugged it off like it wasn't an important issue: "Because I want to see what's out there when I feel there's something out there."

Given my mother's irrepressible tendency to blend extremely different things, and her natural talent to make it look quirky beautiful, I initially thought her intention was aesthetic. But as she had confirmed, it's for security purposes.

Well, I couldn't sit down with it. The window opens to a field of sugar cane; at sunset, it's breathtaking. There must be a story out the window, and it must be told. Could there be a bahay kubo dwarfed by the canes, with more to tell about Ormoc's past than the poor library at the government's office (assuming, they have one)? Does a lady in red watch over the fields, radiating a splendor red at sunset, giving sun's natural orange company? I am hallucinating, but with the quiet pretty of the window, the magical canes it looks out to, I must not be completely crazy.

title inspired from C.S. Lewis' The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

Fried Bananas, Choco Hotcakes

2009-03-06T07:16:00.010+08:00

As long as we can fry bananas, I'm fine without my junkfood. Nang Boning fried a basket full yesterday for Maica's action group meeting with the Lingkod ng Panginoon ladies, but she didn't stop me when I picked and nibbled on a dozen pieces. Despite the oil horror, and the slick of fresh-from-the-pan that screams cholesterol, I can't get my hands off of them!

There are different ways to cut the banana and make ready to fry. The banana cues sold near schools (now at P6, a P1 increase from the seemingly permanent P5) are cut fan-style. In our kitchen, bananas are cut in 4 halves vertically, giving us long strips that make easy finger eating.

Note: not all kinds of bananas can be fried. Buy escalante.

Fried camote (sweet potato) is another favorite. Ever since Lent started and me and my sisters kept junkfood away, this has been a constant in our frying pan. My sister Maica and I are practically addicted. Camote is already sweet so I no longer eat it with sugar, but my sister Maica is a hardcore. She drowns it in brown sugar before every great bite.

A twist in frying camote is sprinkling sugar halfway through the frying. Sugar caramelizes on the camote, giving it more glossy and crunch. If you're not careful, it makes the camote pieces stick together. So make sure when the sugar starts to caramelize, you have your ladle ready to move the pieces around the pan and as a result, keep the camotes away from each other. This sugar-sprinkles-on-camote works deadliest thus best on thinly sliced camote pieces.

My only advice is not to do it regularly, because it kills figures.

My sister Iana made these choco hotcakes out of the walang kupas Maya Hotcakes mix and tabliya cocoa. For as far as my memory can take me, we've always had Maya Hotcakes for snacks. Walang kupas talaga. The difference is that now, I worry about the last few clothes that can still fit me to go without Karo Syrup and butter (even if it's the supposed on-a-diet Daricreme). When I was younger...

Don't even get me started on that.

Bhebs Book Rental

2009-03-05T23:30:00.001+08:00

To all the booklovers in Ormoc, don't get your hopes up. As I write this, mine are completely dashed. There's a hole in the wall book rental shop along Lopez Jaena Avenue. In fact, it has been there for 5 years. I chanced upon it behind the car window a few days ago and today, I went in and paid P25 for membership. Not that after the first browsing, I found a particularly interesting title that I wanted to rent. But I asked too many questions to the owner and I thought it was a fair exchange.

The woman behind the pink desk is the owner. Her name is Bheb. She is another disappointment. I don't want to stereotype, but my idea of a book rental shop owner is an extreme book lover, who knows her books and who would all-too-willingly browse through the shelves with the renter and make recommendations. But all the while I was there, with 2 other members looking for books to rent, she remained seated behind that desk. I asked her if she had always loved books. She said she never had. She grew up in the mountains and without access to such luxury.

I asked Bheb if hers is the only book rental in town. She said there are two or three others, but they rent mostly Tagalog novels. The photo above, is her own rich collection of Tagalog novels. The titles are quite misleading: "If Ever I Fall in Love," "Bossy Kind of Love," or "Return to Love." If you ask me, any of the three sounds like a shameless English work. Apparently, these Tagalog novelists say "I love you" and not "Mahal Kita".

She rents the Tagalog titles at P5 for 2 days.

From her English collection, she's got a lot of Danielle Steel, Barbara Delinsky and Sydney Sheldon. Not only was I surprised to see an existing copy of Francine Pascal's Sweet Valley series, I wanted to rent one for old time's sake! There are a few New York Times Bestsellers like John Grisham, Nora Roberts and Patricia Cromwell as well, and Stephen King and Anne Rice. If ever I get around to using my P25-membership, I might go rent Anne Rice's "Interview with the Vampire".

She rents the English titles at P15 for 4 days.

Judging from her membership alone (at the 500s), there are a lot of booklovers in Ormoc. Though not all are active members, that number has to be noted. It represents the people who once went out of their way not for anything but to get their hands on a book. A city which is not necessarily well-read, but loves reading, is healthy. Reading will enhance people's comprehension and ability to think. Knowledge through reading may not always be utilitarian, but nobody can take that away once you have it (except for bad memory) and when you find use for it. It is a habit that should be encouraged, best of all through the existence of a library.

Almost all the suburbs in Sydney that I got the chance to visit has a library that lends books and educational videos for free. I dare say it's one reason why Australia is a first world country, and the Philippines is not.

One of the 3 males who are among the active members happens to be a guard. He enjoys reading while on duty. Imagine if he is a reflection of all blue-collar workers.

hi!

2009-03-04T22:36:00.001+08:00

my short note on the side (unimaginatively headed with finding finding Ormoc) should serve to tell what this is. the idea of finding ormoc has been nagging me since i executed my pop's idea (and moneyed persuasion) for me to move back here in Ormoc. this city's possession of my softest part is inflexible; its got my family in its coffers after all. but i've been resistant to everything else about Ormoc. i thought, and still think there is nothing else to it. this project attempts to contrast that. not all too willingly, mind you, but definitely, with an open mind. as i mentioned on the side, i've got two years to wrap this all up. at that end, i don't want to be where this post is -- in a clueless start.