A wonderful Christmas to ye all

Wild berries, Cimetière du Père Lachaise, Paris

Dear readers (yes, all three of you). Sorry I haven't posted anything for more than a month now. Life happened: I have quit my job (and am now serving an extended notice), learnt more French than I thought possible for a previous Francophobe, done tons of Christmas shopping and wrapping, worked, worked, worked and of course, cooked on the quiet.

Things are still frenetic, but how can I let this season pass without wishing all of you the very best Christmas ever? Thank you for your supportive presence, blog friends. And everyone else, thank you for being in my life and putting up with me!

Peace, blessings and LOTS of good eats in the new year.

The way the cookie crinkles

My sisters and the little bubwits (i.e. nieces and nephews) are really Cookie Monsters, and have been after me for weeks to make one of their favorites--chocolate crinkles. So I did, following a standard recipe I got off the Web somewhere (Betty Crocker I think).

The cookies turned out delicious--I used good-quality chocolate, mixed in all the right ingredients in the correct quantities in the correct order, and even refrigerated the dough overnight (the recommended maximum).

But I'm not satisfied, not moi. I want my choco crinkles to be perrrrfect! What's wrong with the cookies above:

a) the shape is not as rounded and compact as I would like it to be
b) the "crinkle"isn't dramatic enough; one big zigzag down the center would have been much better
c) the cookies were quite fragile--they needed to be lifted with care.

If anyone has any suggestions on how to fix these, please let me know!

P.S. Totally off-topic, did Proust really have madeleines with his tea? One Slate columnist begs to differ.

My first carrot muffins

As a beginner cook, I find my tastes leaning toward the simpler recipes, whether it's sweet or savory stuff. I must be lucky in that I don't have a problem resisting the temptation of many scrumptious Pinoy dishes that are a cholesterol watcher's hell. Adobo? I have the occasional craving, and then only for chicken adobo. Mechado? Kaldereta? Morcon? Tocino? They all form a large part of my childhood memories, but easily resisted in the present day. And perhaps it's not really that difficult, since I made the decision more than a decade ago to virtually cut out all red meat from my diet, for health reasons and some form of nutty compassion for pigs and cows. (I know, I know, what about fish and chicken? Ah well, it's a half-baked commitment what can I say).

Learning to bake, I am more fascinated by the prospect of making simple yeastbreads and sourdough loaves than cakemaking. The transformation of flour and water into the simple goodness of bread - it's almost magical.

Muffins are another darling to make. So easy and healthy! These carrot muffins are based on a recipe from the Williams-Sonoma Collection: Bread cookbook. I used a miniature muffin pan because I've always thought the standard size somewhat intimidatingly large!

"Double-ginger" biscotti

I'm currently obsessed with Tish Boyle's The Good Cookie, a well-reviewed cookbook that's been languishing in my bookshelf for close to 2 years now. With the holidays coming, I felt compelled to try out a few cookie recipes--and what could be better than Triple-Ginger Pecan Biscotti, which combines three gorgeous elements: ginger, ginger, and more ginger. I didn't have any crystallized ginger to hand, so compensated by adding the equivalent volume of freshly grated ginger--hence 'double-ginger'. Also had no vanilla extract (scoured both Oliver's and Park & Shops in vain) so made do with almond extract, and added a touch more freshly ground black pepper.

What the recipe didn't say, but other recipes generally do, is that it helps tremendously to freeze the dough for 30 minutes before working it. Otherwise you would have reallly sticky fingers (I did).

How the cauliflower turned out

It's always a challenge retaining the natural colors of food after cooking. So it was relief to find that the adorable cauliflower head I bought a few days ago stayed purple after parboiling, and even after its transformation into a gratin. Can you see the little florets peeking out from under their jacket of cheese and breadcrumbs?

I found this recipe at Epicurious.com and loosely adapted it for my dish. No cheddar in the fridge so I made do with an obsidian-hard chunk of Parmesan (15 minutes of hard grating!) combining it with my last slice of havarti dill--a mild and creamy cheese originally from Denmark. Substituted plain bread crumbs from Park n Shop for the saltines.

I think I might have put in a teaspoonful of sugar instead of salt (not my fault! the jars looked alike!). But still.....YUM!

Beer Bread II, The Sequel

Starring:

Date jam from Dubai

Vicky's old steak knife

French marmalade

Home-baked beer bread, fragrant with L'Eau d' Tsingtao.

Not in picture, but played supporting roles:

One kitchen-stained, dog-eared copy of Joy of Cooking (open to page 775)

One very hungry blogger

Purple cloud

Purples and lavenders are absolutely some of the most gorgeous colors ever and so when I saw this neat bunch of purple cauliflower heads at city'super the other day I just couldn't resist popping one into my shopping basket. I might just whip up a gratin, perhaps with a touch of curry, especially since my new Tefal tabletop oven is to be delivered midweek and--be still my beating heart--I can bake again!

Loot from Graham Street, Central

Wandered over to Central this morning and over to the Graham Street open-air wet market. Had a grand time ogling the luscious fruit and vegetables on display. It was past noon so I guess the vendors were kind of mellow and the whole place had a postprandial air. Despite having lived in HK for eight years I've seldom shopped at the local wet markets since few of the shopkeepers speak English (and I've just been too damned lazy to learn Cantonese) and signlanguage has always struck me as a bit of a hassle! But my love for food--and the total bareness of my fridge--drove me to pick up, very quickly, the ingredients for this evening's Thai shrimp curry supper: a bunch of cilantro, limes, about 2 pounds of jumbo prawn, a couple handfuls of cherry tomatoes (the recipe said plum tomatoes but for some reason I always mistake cherry tomatoes for the plum toms). All for HK$55 (about US$7). I already had the curry mix and coconut milk at home. Also picked up a juicy, fragrant yellow Philippine mango for dessert--NOT a steal at HK$9, but what can you do?

You can find a basic recipe for Thai shrimp curry here.

Excerpt from a letter to P

I suppose it is night where you are, Patricia. Yesterday from 8 to 9:30 in the evening--your Sunday afternoon, a Monday here in Asia--I attended the first of 30 sessions in general French for complete beginners. Our teacher is a mid-40s genial Frenchwoman named Isabelle; our class of 20 consists of local Hong Kongers, most of them professional people, probably mid-20s to mid-30s with a very few younger ones. I expect the teenagers are in Alliance's teen classes. There were three couples in the class.

I enjoyed the first lesson! I try not to be overwhelmed by the fact that there is so much to learn, and instead think of myself like a child taking her first steps in a new language. That way it's so much more fun. Already I'm amazed that I recognize and understand (or can make a pretty good guess of the meaning of) many of the terms in the lesson books. It's the spoken part that is much more difficult, and no doubt the grammar part. At one point Isabelle had everyone speak aloud some French terms they knew, and of course everyone knew something--bonjour (also the name of a local shop), vin, bon appetit, paris, je't aime (sp?), le rose noire (a local bakeshop), bonsoir.

The French "R" stumps me. It seems to involve some vibration inside the mouth that not even Tagalog has. Or at least not the citified Tagalog that I know. I am practicing at home with the CD they provided. Fell asleep on the sofa last night listening to these wonderfully exotic sounds coming off the CD player.

Also some of the U and E vowel sounds are close to the way the Chinese pronounce some of their vowel sounds, so that is another thing I do not have the advantage of knowing.

I am beginning to 'devour' this language much as I soaked up English--that is, with a lot of enthusiam--back in our grade school days. As though I were six again and finding out what "bottle" means, learning how to say "Look, there's Spot", how to count from one to ten, how to say good morning and good afternoon.

Abangan ang susunod na kabanata. Till then, bonne nuit!


Postscripts

Remember this pair of horses that we befriended in Seraincourt? (The secret was in the apple and bits of bread)



...and the duck in the pond and your About a Boy moment?



I hope you're not throwing any more melon at those poor feathered creatures!

Travel thoughts on a Sunday

Tuscany, September 16, 2005

I suspect it's impossible for some people to stay in one place for good, once they've left the city of their childhood.
- Stephen Vizinczey


I would like to spend my whole life traveling, if I could borrow another life to spend at home.
- William Hazlitt

Pumpkin time

"All growth is a leap in the dark, a spontaneous unpremeditated act without the benefit of experience."

– Henry Miller

To know another language is to have a second soul.

- Charlemagne, King of the Franks (742-814)

I start beginner French class on Monday at the local Alliance Francaise. I'm both dreading it and looking forward to it. I want to do well and I'm determined to do well. My slight trepidation comes from the fact that I have to manage the twice a week classes with my 9-to-5 job, a blog, and regular visits to the gym (to reduce a cholesterol count that's in the high-risk range, thanks to all the good cheese I regularly consume.)

Why learn a new language at this [busy] time of my life? Reason #1: I need a new challenge. #2: Several very good friends speak French. #3: Many culinary terms, references and techniques are French. #4: I want to spend more time in Europe in the near future. And, of course, #5: The French instructors might be hunks! Hahahahaha.

PS Photo above is there to remind me WHY I am studying this foreign language. It was taken at Le Marche de Caroline (Caroline's Market) near my friends' place in Avernes in the Val D'Oise departement in France. The shop sells locally made jams, honeys, pates, deli meats, tisanes, mustards and other specialities. A farm is attached to the shop, where you can pick your own tomatoes, rhubarb, courgettes, strawberries, beans, etc.

Cafe au lait: The conversion

I'm a coffee addict. In my younger brasher years (I sound like a granny hahahah) I generally took my coffee black. When asked, I would always say that sugar and cream only dilute the pure rush of all that caffeine.

I've converted. During my weeklong stay in France I woke up every day to a large bowl of milky coffee: equal portions hot milk and hot brewed coffee. What a gentle way to start the morning...a warming bowl of a friendly brew, thick baguette slices toasted golden, good French butter, and a choice of luscious fig jam, tart rhubarb preserves and a deeply sweet, seductive date jam.

Chocolate fever

This blog note is for Melissa, who, when I told her of my impending travel, was quick to suggest a couple of confectioners I should visit in Paris.

I never got the chance to check out these shops nor Paris' famous food markets because of limited time, but I treasure a bag of orangettes--candied orange rind dipped in chocolate--I bought for 8 euros? 12 euros? from the Maiffret chocolate shop on Champs Elysee. Maffret's been around since 1885 (according to their website) offers a mouthwatering array of plain and flavored ganache, toffee, pralines, marzipan and so on, and the orangette were perfect. The chocolate was finely tempered with just a hint of orange bitterness coming through to prevent the whole thing from becoming cloyingly sweet.

The other high chocolate note of my trip was a cup of oh-so-decadent hot chocoloate I had in a little café on the island of Burano, in the northern part of the Venetian Lagoon. It had drizzled constantly all day, and we stopped for something hot to drink before taking the next ferry back. True hot chocolate is chocolate bars melted into cream; very rich. What we had was the genuine article, and we relished every drop.

When stormy weather strikes

Celia Kusinera is hosting Lasang Pinoy II with the theme Cooking Up a Storm and I had that in mind this past weekend, when gale-force winds were whipping Hong Kong. Truth to tell, even a typhoon signal 3 here is not as fearsome as a baby bagyo or signal no. 1 back in the Philippines. But my flat is on the 21st floor of a block in a hilly part of Hong Kong island, and it's not a particularly sturdy building, so I can hear the gusts rattling doors and window shutters, even those that are latched and closed. The sound effects can be a little startling.

But I enjoy stormy weather, in fact. I do. Every time I am housebound by typhoons--even those that bring no rains--I am brought back to my childhood. I am brought back to those times when a bagyo meant no school, and therefore we could just turn over and go back to sleep, to wake up a little later with champorado gently steaming on the breakfast table. There might even be some pandesal, with Cheezwiz to go with it. Me and my sisters could spend the day any way we liked, perhaps just watching TV all day and sleeping, sleeping, sleeping. Hey, we were growing up--had to catch up on our zzzs.

There were some bad ones though. There was a particularly bad typhoon that caused the river to overflow, and flooded the houses along its banks, including ours. This was back when we lived in Malolos, Bulacan. One of my most vivid memories from this time is how we lived for days in the house's second floor (really a mezzanine now that I think about it) while waiting for the waters to recede. The simplest meals: oh, plump golden bangus--me and my sisters always squabbled over the soft, tender, delicately black-and-white dappled belly even back then--fried to perfection by my mother and redolent of garlic. Eating with our hands while crouching on kitchen benches that were only a few inches above water.

Mind you, it wasn't all idyllic and picturesque. There were all sorts of things that floated down that river in that week: one was a dead hog. Storms can be unimaginably destructive. But ultimately, they can be reviving--after the rains and the floods, cities are washed clear, the drains start to unclog, and life comes back to the streets.

Ginisang munggo - Bean soup, Pinoy style

I love having this bean soup, a Pinoy staple, anytime it's rainy, but I also like it in warm weather. It's tasty and warming, not too heavy and an absolute breeze to make.

Ingredients:

2 to 3 ripe tomatoes, chopped
a medium-sized onion, chopped
a few cloves garlic, chopped
flaked smoked fish (tinapang bangus org galunggong is my preference)
leaves of ampalaya (bitter melon/bitter gourd) or malunggay (not sure what the English term would be)
a cup of mongo (mung beans)

- Soak beans overnight. The next day, boil in a stockpot until tender.
- Saute onions till translucent. Add garlic and stir until garlic is pale brown. Add tomatoes and stir for a few minutes before adding the beans with their juice and the smoked fish. Add salt and pepper to taste, plus a splash of patis if you prefer.
- Bring to a boil, drop in the leaves and you're all set.

Boudin noir - A semi-vegetarian breaks her rules

In my recent trip to France, I made the acquaintance of the boudin noir. This is a dark-colored blood sausage made by cooking down animal blood with meat or other fillers. I normally avoid pork, beef and all red meat, but since I was on vacation, and in Europe, and I do have seven adventurous bones in my body, I heroically gave it a try.

This particular boudin was artisanale (handmade) and came from a farmer's market nearby my friends' house in Avernes, a commune in the Val D'Oise département, about an hour's drive from Paris. My host Claude cooked it in the simplest way possible. Fry the sausages gently in some butter along with chunks of crisp apples. Once done, chop up the links into bitesized segments, and serve hot.

We had it with good, chewy country bread and a tomato salad drizzled with Patricia's wonderfully tangy dressing. It was easy, it was tasty, it was simple, just as most good meals are.

In love with far niente

I'M BACK. Still reeling and drunk from the sights, sounds, smells and tastes of Europe: Paris, Siena, Florence and Venice. Two weeks is heartbreakingly short. I have vowed to return.

While I get busy unpacking my bulging suitcase, sorting through gazillions of digital pix, and storing my precious loot from Europe (a lot of which are cooking- related or food items--I particularly prize an olive-wood chopping board from San Gimignano) I'll post two photos that, for me at least, captures some of the essence of Italy.


One is a produce stall in Venice, specializing in organic fruits and vegetables, the tomatoes looking to huge and red and juicy that I was tempted to buy an armful, and the melanzane as purple and perfect as can be. The other is the view of olive trees as you look out the window of Agriturismo Malafrasca, the working farm just outside Siena where my friends and I stayed for a few days.

No doubt I'll be raving on about my trip in the next few days. Oh, I am far in love with the food, the culture, and the beauty of the past two weeks (can you sense the new travel blog coming up???). And especially with the Italian concept of dolce far niente--sweet to do nothing.

Gorgeous gondolas and mesmerizing puddles

...I just wanted to share with you this batch of glorious, glorious photos taken in France and Italy by The Oregonian (you know who you are!). Aren't they gorgeous, these places? In 48 hours I hope to see many of these places for myself.

Those lovely people in the photos are some of the honorable members of my tribe. For the photos, un milione di grazie, Signor Giorgio aka Tintoretto-Marco Polo de Medici.

I'll be offline from tomorrow until the 21st of September for my annual holiday. See you later!

Tart's spaghetti

I made Pasta Puttanesca the other night, largely based on Jamie Oliver's recipe but adding some green olives so that I could make use of the remaining handful in the fridge. Otherwise, this sauce is mostly made with black olives.

I love, love this sauce--it's piquant (due to the capers), spicy (chili), deep-salty (anchovies) and greenily aromatic (basil and lemon zest and juice). I usually use tinned tomatoes. Chopping up tomatoes is too much of a chore on a weekday night.

They say this pasta dish originated in Naples, where it was a favorite of the ladies of the night (in Italian, puttana is prostitute), hence the name. Another monicker is whore's pasta, harlot's sauce or--Delia Smith's genteel version--tart's spaghetti.

Many versions of this are vegetarian, but Jamie's adds tuna for protein, and so did I.

Other versions:
Delia Smith
Epicurious

Eating out: Shanghai Mian

Shanghai Mian
Causeway Bay, Hong Kong
Visited August 27, 2005



Conveniently located at the mezzanine of the World Trade Center in one of Hong Kong's busiest areas, Shanghai Mian is a destination for those looking for a tasty, reasonably priced Chinese food fix to refuel after a day of shopping. The menu is extensive and most dishes are in the HK$45-$150 range.

We ordered the minced duck sauteed with pinenuts, shallots and minced peppers. This was quite filling especially since it came with four pieces of complimentary pita pockets. Last time I ordered this dish its flavorful aromas enticed the diners at the next table into ordering the same.



We also had the roasted chicken, which was succulent with beautiful tender skin. In true Chinese style, this came complete with the severed head (ackkk) glaring balefully at us. We turned the head away from us and proceeded to devour the rest. Perfect with a bowl of steamed rice.

Service was good--they didn't hurry us too much despite that we lingered over lunch and it was close to 3 o'clock when we finished.





Enjoyable and dependable--Would go back whenever I need a Chinese/Shanghainese food fix.

What's in your pantry?

Browsing Epicurious.com today, I read that Mario Batali, 2002 James Beard awardee for the best chef in New York, always keeps the following in his pantry:

Extra virgin olive oil
Salt-packed capers
Salt-packed anchovies
Homemade bread crumbs
Dry pasta
Frank's hot sauce
Champagne
Tomato paste in a tube
Dijon mustard
Bottarga
Coarse sea salt.

And no butter because he considers it "unsophisticated." It has to be olive oil, natch. Seems I'm not doing too badly--all I need to do is stock up on champagne and bottarga, which I just found out is the supersized version (it's roe of mullet or tuna) of the itlog ng isda which my sisters and I would fight over, just like we would wrangle over the choicest bits of bangus belly. Nyahahah

A moment of silence in the kitchen

Please join me in a moment of prayer and sympathy for New Orleans and the devastation from Hurricane Katrina.

Is anything safe to eat?

I feel like I owe the malachite some apology. For days now, everytime I read about malachite green contamination of the fish sold in Hong Kong supermarkets and wet markets, I thought they were referring to the mineral (which is quite a lovely color, as you'll see from this picture).

Turns out pretty malachite has absolutely no connection with malachite green. MG is a synthetic dye used to color silk, wool, jute, leather, cotton and paper. It was also traditionally used to treat fungal infections at fish farms and while some countries have banned it as a carcinogen, it continues to be used.

The two have similar names purely because they are similar in color.

The government promptly conducted a few tests that concluded that "People would have to eat as much as 300kg of fish tainted with malachite green every day for up to two years to risk getting cancer."

I don't know about you, but numbers like that don't bring any comfort. What else is there to eat unless we import all our food from Australia? Pesticide-flavored vegetables, mad cow, bird flu, pig flu. I read they've found MG-tainted fish (farmed salmon) even in Scotland and Canada.

Still the stomach is a resilient creature for all that. I think I need a snack...

Beer trip

Now that I'm back in Hong Kong I miss cooking for people. When I was living in Manila about a year and half ago, one of the things I enjoyed most was my kitchen experiments. Even bought an oven--my very first--and the most useful, simplest, friendliest book ever--Joy of Cooking. It really demystified the entire process for me--my Mom had always been the main cook in the family, and my sister Vicky. What followed those two purchases was an extended paroxysm of cooking. My favorite of all those first-borns out of the forno (wait! did that sound gruesome??!!): oatmeal cookies, ginger cake, roast chickens, date bread, baked chicken with tomatoes and Madeira, orange loaves, date nut bread and beer bread.

My family and friends liked most of it--all except the beer bread. That seemed to be an acquired taste and I was the only one who acquired it. Made another loaf of this last night.

Choose a light beer. You can also add 1/2 cup diced Cheddar or Monterey cheese, and 1/4 cup sliced scallions. Plus 2 teaspoons caraway seeds.

Quick Beer Bread (from Joy)

Position a rack in the lower third of the oven. Preheat oven to 400F. Grease a 6-cup loaf pan. Whisk together thoroughly in a large bowl:

1 cup whole-wheat flour
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup old-fashioned rolled oats
2 tablespoons sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt

Add:
1 1/2 cups (355ml) light or dark beer (cold or room temp but not flat)

Fold just until the dry ingredients are moistened. Scrape the batter into the pan and spread evenly. Bake until a toothpick inserted in the center and all the way to the bottom of the pan comes out clean, 35 to 40 minutes. Let cool in the pan on a rack for 5 to 10 minutes before unmolding to cool completely on the rack.

The power of java

What did I tell you? What did I tell you? Coffee has magical powers! It can keep you young! Huh, I always knew that. That is why I am désolée (wow, that sounds French--is that right, Pat and Claude?) that there is not a single Figaro branch in Hong Kong.

Sure, we have Starbucks and Pacific Coffee shops galore, and I enjoy them, especially their soft cushiony velvety sofas, but the scent of barako coffee is inimitable and, to me at least, irreplaceable.

So yesterday I wrote to the Figaro folks in Manila and was very sympathetically told that no, there isn't a branch currently but yes, they are planning to re-open at some point and that, in the meantime, I might want to check out their two outlets in Shanghai!

Errr…

ici on parle français - NOT

Readers, in 13 days I am taking the midnight flight out of Hong Kong and flying to Paris. This is my European itinerary: five days in Paris, three days in Siena/Florence/central Italy and two days in Venice.

George my adopted American uncle in Oregon thinks that I am superbly organized and that by now I will have listed the places I want to see, the things that I must do and that the undoubtedly incredibly lightweight and versatile contents of my suitcase will now have been organized in tidy battle-ready formation.

Well.......not quite. My travelling principle is composed of equal parts fly-by-the-seat of my pants any-old-way interspersed with bouts of extreme planning. I make lists of sights, lists of flights, shopping lists, lists of lists. But then I usually leave my packing till the last minute--as all my friends and family who have ever flown with me will testify--and I have, on at least five separate occasions, been the VERY LAST passenger to board. There I was, all red in the face from running, skipping down the looooooooong aisles while everyone looks on and would trip me if they could (no doubt). Mea culpa.

Gotta get my ass in gear and start checking out phrasebooks, bank ATMs and passwords, *list* clothes to pack, clothes to repair, shoes to clean, supplies to buy! Alert cleaning lady, park my anemic houseplant in the office so that someone will bother to water her, maybe buy some euros, memorize a few more phrases beyond "bonjour" and "buon giorno".

Oh, and improve my eye lash-batting skills in preparation for those famously SEXY Italians. Heh. heh. Hope my Mom's not reading this blog.

Right now there's a piece of cheese in the fridge with my name on it. Meanwhile, I leave you with this super-scrumptious picture of one of my must-see places in France. Note the large wedge of Livarot--I remember you well, Colonel!

Save our sinigang

If only I could tele-transport myself home just for one day! I'm especially interested in the sinigang and decadent dining segments.


I
The Doreen Gamboa Fernandez Food Symposium 2005
Vanishing Food in the Philippines

August 27, 2005
Filipinas Heritage Library
Makati City

Programme

8:00-9:00 Registration
9:00-9:15 Introduction to the Symposium
Ambeth Ocampo

9:15-10:45 Session 1: Vanishing Foods and Lifestyles
Moderator: Pia Lim-Castillo

The Vanishing Healthy Filipino Asian Meals
Sanirose Orbeta

Brown Rice: Reviving a Lost Health Food
Rhoda S. Lantin

The Dying Art of Vinegar
Linda Corsiga

10:25-10:45 Open Forum

10:45-11:00 Break

11:00-12:30 Session 2: Vanishing Practices
Moderator: Severino Sarmenta, Jr.

The Disappearance of Decadent Dining
Dez Bautista

Who Will Save Our Sinigang? Preserving the Flavours and
Savours of Traditional Filipino Dishes
Bel Castro

So Much To Eat, So Much To Remember: Childhood Memories
of Food in Mandaue Before the Factories Came
Dr. Romola O. Savellon

12:10-12:30 Open Forum

12:30-1:30 Lunch

1:30-3:00 Session 3: Food and History
Moderator: Mark Escaler

Saving the Barako
Pat Gallardo

Bark from the Pan: Decoding the Spectacle of Dog-Meat
Eating in the 1904 St. Louis Fair and in the Cordillera
Analyn V. Salvador

Food Should Not Be History
Ambeth Ocampo

2:30-3:00 Open Forum

3:00-3:15 Break

3:15-3:30 Presentation of Awards / Closing
Maritoni Ortigas

Modern mooncake

The Moon Cake Festival or Mid-Autumn Festival (Chung Chiu), the third major festival of the Chinese calendar, is celebrated on the 15th day of the eighth month. This festival corresponds to harvest festivals observed by Western cultures, and in Hong Kong, it is held in conjunction with the annual Lantern Festival.

This festival is also known as the Moon Cake Festival because a special kind of sweet cake (yueh ping) prepared in the shape of the moon and filled with sesame seeds, ground lotus seeds and duck eggs is served as a traditional Chung Chiu delicacy.

Nobody actually knows when the custom of eating moon cake of celebrate the Moon Festival began, but one relief traces its origin to the 14th century. At the time, China was in revolt against the Mongols. Chu Yuen-chang, and his senior deputy, Liu Po-wen, discussed battle plan and developes a secret moon cake strategy to take a certain walled city held by the Mongol enemy. Liu dressed up as a Taoist priest and entered the besieged city bearing moon cake.

He distributed these to the city's populace. When the time for the year's Chung Chiu festival arrived, people opened their cakes and found hidden messages advising them to coordinate their uprising with the troops outside. Thus, the emperor-to-be ingeniously took the city and his throne. Moon cake of course, became even more famous.

The moon plays a significant part in this festival. In Hong Kong, any open space or mountain top is crowded with people trying to get a glimpse of this season's auspicious full moon....but don't let me bore on. You can read the complete article here, if you like.

~ ~ ~
Nowadays everyone’s gotten into the act. You can get "snowy" mooncake from Taipan and icecream mooncake from Haagen-Dazs. As your faithful reporter, I consider it my duty to investigate this phenomenon. The things I do for my readers!

~~~
Utterly failed to compose a contribution to Lasang Pinoy I! But hats off to you, fellow Pinoys. Bilib ako sa inyo.

Chicken soup for the solo

Hunted fruitlessly at two Park N Shop outlets tonight for a smallish whole chicken to make into nilaga. After chowing down--in the course of 48 hours--six Timtams, two platefuls of pancit bihon, a four-course Thai meal at Phukets on Elgin St. (consisting of a so-so tom yum, a red chicken curry that had more veg than actual chicken, and a plate of vegetables of indetermininate purpose), paella and gambas (NOTE TO SELF: Easy on the olive oil for the entire week) -- a clear, simple soup seemed just the ticket.

PnS had run out. No chickens on a Monday evening, and it wasn't even 8 o'clock yet. The branch in Aberdeen had only two suspiciously yellow-looking chickens left, rather creatively labelled 'ginseng' chicken.

I dithered for looooong minutes in front of the display. In the end, went home with...fish.

Maybe I should start keeping chickens. My family did, when I was about 12 or 13. Mom would buy dozens of the cutest chicks and we would feed them and raise them until they became so much less cute and so much more edible. And because she sold them 'dressed', guess who chased them around the yard, cut their poor little throats and plucked their gazillion little feathers?

That said, a steaming bowl of arroz caldo, full of choice bits of chicken, is on my top 20 list of favorite comfort food.

Purple moment

Is this cool or what? I just love these shades of lavender and dark brown and blue and pink. This is the view outside the window of the restaurant on Elgin St in Hong Kong's "Soho" district--Soho being "south of Hollywood Road"--where a friend and I had lunch today. Since I bought my bea-yoootifool new digicam I've been snapping away like a crazed paparrazzo (hmmm..paparraza if female?) in hopes of figuring out how this blessed thing works. Never had a camera with manual controls before; the Canon S70 is somewhat midway between point and shoot digicams and digital SLRs.

The rain hasn't stopped all day. Hong Kong is waterlogged. However, I did catch Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and I'm sure tonight I'll be dreaming of chocolate waterfalls and fine cocoa beans and bars upon bars of choccies. I'm sure I'll wake up as round and fluffy as Godiva truffles.

A salad of new potatoes

Potatoes, mustard and red onion are a superb combination! I spent a few minutes last night putting this together. Basically, it's boiled potatoes and green peas bathed in a mustard-olive oil-white vinegar-dill sauce. Drop in a few basil leaves for taste.

Where'd the sun go?

Rainy and gray today in Hong Kong. This is the view outside my living room window--notice how the Peak is obscured.

Twenty-one days

Just past ten on a Thursday night. I always think Thursdays are special because there is Friday and the glorious, blessed, munificent weekend to look forward to. And I'm in an extra tizzy because, in just 21 days' time, I am off--finally--to Europe!

The excitement has been building for weeks, ever since my plans started coming together. More on this later.

Tonight, also, Patricia is in town, but I won't get to see her. Right now she's certainly sitting in some transit terminal at Chek Lap Kok, waiting for the plane that will take her to France to join her husband and start a new life as an immigrant in Europe.