I'm back!

Six long months.

That's how long it has been since my last entry. I cannot even remember when I stopped and why. I think I got overwhelmed by the renovation of our new home and the thousand little and big things that we needed to do to move in and get settled. I guess I will tell you about all that later on, when I actually remember.

Our family had a wonderful Christmas holiday and I have photos and videos and excess body fat to prove it. Yes, i am one of those people who equate 'good time' with food. I also am one who yo-yo's at the slightest increase in intake and now after all the Happy Donuts (I like it!?!), Twinkies and Dingdongs and Snowballs and the many delicious meals at my in-laws,I have to shift once again to healthy eating and continue on with my newly-found love-hate relationship with exercise.

Wish me luck!

MrsA

The search for the quintessential game (part 2)

H and I trekked Wan Chai and managed to reach the Soho district after walking all the way to the huge Chinese Crafts building in search of a Mahjong set. We turned around and walked away from the first one because they did not have the size and make that I wanted and besides, they were charging an arm and a leg for it. So off we went to Soho, a shopping district near Times Square, where everyone said there is a small shop "under the stairs" of some building whose name no one can recall. We must have asked at least three people and they all pointed us out to this shop so we were sure we would find it without much hassle.
And true enough, there it was. A cab ride to Soho took less than ten minutes and all we needed to do was ask a local for any mahjong shop and...you guessed it! We were told to keep on walking until we find..yep: the quaint little shop underneath the stairs of some building whose name no one can remember.
Grunting, H continued to walked with me. Now if you know H, shopping is his least favorite thing to do. He insists he prefers to get a root canal than to shop and has proven it in many occasions. But the man loves me and he and I know that we will miss each other soon (he will fly to another continent for a business trip and I shall return to our home country) so he dragged his feet and continued to walk just to make me happy.
Not long after, there it was...the quaint shop that everyone talked about, just the way everyone described it: a tiny little shop underneath the stairs, filled with a variety of mahjong- in every size, color and make imaginable. I drooled, feeling like a child in a candy store.
They had exactly what I wanted: plain ivory-colored plastic tiles but they were in Chinese characters and I did not know enough about the game to be able to tell one tile from another. Not to worry, the man said. If we give him time, he will engrave and paint the numbers by hand for us for just an additional HK$ 50!H signaled that it's okay, so we agreed *Glee*
So H and I said we will be back few hours later. With H dragging his feet and mine floating in air, we passed the time window shopping at some stores and hauling in some other. I am sure you know how time passes by slowly when you are eager for it to pass quickly, so merely two hours after- an hour before the agreed time, we returned to the mahjong store that everyone knows about and true enough, my tiles are done- freshly engraved and handpainted specially for me. *Glee*
We returned to the hotel feeling very proud of ourselves. We found what we were looking for and we purchased something special- something made specially for us; painstakingly carved and painted by hand to suit our distinctive taste.

We felt good about our purchase, our soon-to-be heirloom, the one that will give us hours of fun for the years to come...

Until we visited the night market in Kowloon the following night...


MrsA

The search for the quintessential game

I have been looking around for a mahjong set since November last year, when I volunteered to host our family reunion last December. You see, my recollection of our family reunion during my childhood is one of great food, exchange of presents the games of bingo for kids and mahjong for the elders.
Mahjong is always played by four people and in our reunions it's usually our grandmother whom we fondly call Mama and her sister, who we all also call Ate', my dad and the fourth player could be any one of my dad's brothers or sisters.

I loved the sound of the tiles as they are moved around, I loved how the glossy the tiles looked when they are lined up and I particularly loved how the players would exchange friendly banter during a game. As an observer, it seemed like the game entailed a bit of concentration yet fun at the same time. Sort of like watching people play chess but with the players giggling and laughing with each other at the end of each game. There never was a sore loser, nor were hurtful words ever exchanged. After all, they played for coins and heck, the pot money was always given to Tita Lina in the end anyway.I guess I like mahjong because I always saw my dad smiling whenever he played, and he would only play at our family reunions.

I also remember how Mama' used to get dressed and tease her hair and put on lipstick in the midafternoon and her amiga (friend) Aling Chabeng would pick her up driving her Volkswagen Beetle and both of them would go to the home of their other friend to play. Mama would return a few hours after, often with Castanas that she lovingly shared with me, my brother and cousins. (Not quite sure how often that happened but the memory is vivid so I will insist that it happened often).

The thing is, I never learned how to play mahjong. My mind then until now, refuse to trigger it's pleasure sensors in any game that may involve losing precious coins. So I never learned how to play cards or mahjong or even roulette. I do not feel any thrill whatsoever whenever I put a coin in the slot machine. I liken car and horse racing to watching paint dry.

So there I was, trying to recreate the reunion we had in my younger days and it felt like it would not be complete without a game that I do not know how to play using tiles that I do not have but oh, I need to have one.

And so the search began.

I checked out websites and asked around and I learned that it is not as simple task to buy a mahjong set. There are a lot of considerations to take note of and a lot of decisions to be made.

For starters, they come in various sizes: small, medium, large and extra large depending on the size of the hand of the players. Of course, they also come in travel sizes so there are extra small tiles (how one can play at the airport or in the airplane is beyond me). There are various types depending on the characters: western (with numbers), chinese, japanese etc and variety of materials bamboo, plastic and of course one that Id like to think is no longer being sold: ivory. The cheaper kind are boxed in plastic. The more expensive ones come in wooden artsy boxes. Oh, and I learned that one should never borrow nor buy a used set so as not to inherit any misfortune or bad luck that can go with it.

Okay, given all that I decided that I want a medium, plastic, plain ivory color western mahjong set.

So now that I find myself in Hongkong and just after I declared to H that I shall not shop for anything extravagant, I thought: what better item to bring home than a set of tiles that can trigger pleasant memories?

A serious search was thus declared. I shall find me a mahjong set!

MrsA

Antipasto

A few weeks ago,in the midst of all the chaos in planning and packing for the big move, H announced his plans of flying me to Hongkong with him for a much needed R&R before he flies off to his business meetings in another continent. Needless to say, I was a giddy and excited mommy- HK is after all, one of my most favorite cities. H articulated our thoughts about the marvelous place very well this morning: 'HongKong is just like San Francisco- there are a lot of great places to eat'. This just shows you how H and I share the love for fine food such that all our vacations (maybe even all waking hours!) are highlighted with culinary adventures.

After checking-in we decided to take an early lunch. He was craving for thin crust pizza and was talking about it all throughout our plane ride. Luckily, we chanced upon an Italian restaurant called Antipasto near the corner of Jaffe and Stewart Roads in Wanchai.

We were greeted by a tall, pleasant man while a Filipina lady showed us to our table. The place oozed with confidence that you will find in successful joints: clean tables, simple yet sophisticated ambiance, nicely laid out dining area, friendly staff.

For starters, I ordered open faced grilled cheese and anchovies in french bread. It was heavenly. The bread was toasted to perfection, with the right amount of crust and tender, pillow-like center topped with flavorful cheese and a whole anchovy that gives it a kick. Perfection!

Main course was linguini with crab sauteed in capers and tomatoes. I cannot even put into words how much I loved it. All I can say is that I will order that again for lunch tomorrow and maybe everyday while we are here.

H ordered the more traditional mozarella, basil and tomato salad and it did not disappoint. The tomatoes are plump and juicy and they gave generous slices of cheese. Its an ode to a traditional fare. His main course was chicken parmigiano that they served with assorted roasted veggies. That too was an encouragement to go back to the place.

The gentleman and our server, the lady from the Philippines, were refreshing to come across with in a dining experience. Despite the craziness of having a full house with people waiting in line outside the resto, both were generous with pleasantries and great service; they exuded a level of enthusiasm that is hard to find in our busy world nowadays. They seem to like having us there and that added to the feeling of us liking to be there.

Over-all I give it five rolling pins out of five. Great food, awesome service and a lot of friendly smiles- its was a glorious lunch with the man I love in a the wonderful place that is HongKong. H didn't even miss the thin crust pizza he was craving for all morning.

MrsA

More binge baking/Marble cheesecake for Kevin

There is just too many things going on at the same time: We are leaving our rented space in two weeks so I have to find us a hotel or condo to stay in while we finalize the transactions for the house that we are moving in to. Of course, this entails a thousand phone calls to brokers and the bank people and the movers and the storage company. This also means countless hours planning and boxing up stuff and labeling etc. To top it all, in a few weeks school will start so I need to prepare the children's uniforms, books, school supplies etc. Oh, H will be in one of his business trips soon and he surprised me with a short holiday so we can spend time together and relax before the big move so I have to prepare for that too.

My constant phone pal nowadays is my brother Kevin, who patiently listens to me repeat to him the litany that I recite to H everyday: How some moving companies/storage companies/hotels/condotels charge ridiculously exorbitant fees, how I excited I am about the move, how we should organize things, how the dry weather affects my mood/skin/hair/sanity and some other random things. In our last phone call, we ended with him requesting (actually it was more like a demand from the brat) that I bake something nice for him and can I send not a morsel but a decent serving please?

H and Chy were also craving for cheesecake so I decided to make a huge batch. I made strawberry cheesecake for H and Chooch using regular graham cracker crumb crust and topping it with the most gorgeous fresh strawberries in the market that morning. I brushed the strawberries with mixed berry glaze and voila! A picture-perfect fresh strawberry cheesecake, no one can suspect that the crumbs was slightly burnt cuz I was packing instead of keeping an eye on it as it baked, haha.

For Kevin, I made chocolate marble cheesecake, using chocolate graham cracker crust. I had enough batter to make 3 more miniature ones so I can have Chy taste-test it before I send it off to Kev. The result was a pretty cake with the usual marbling and a lovely creamy texture that contrasted with the grainy graham cracker crust. Divine!

Of course I had to fish from Kevin if he liked it (Thankfully, the ungrateful brat said he did). I don't know which one I like more- baking something for my baby brother or the love and patience he shows me whenever I need to repeatedly express my nonsensical view of life and this world. All I know is, talking to my brother makes me happy and I was able to make him happy somehow this one time.

Oh wait, I got to call Kev and bore him to death about the difference between regular packing tape, masking tape and cellophane tape and how crazy expensive adhesive are nowadays!

MrsA

Bargain Find: A thirty year old rotary phone (that works!)

I passed by furniture shop last week and collaborated with them on how to transform the large,overly-masculine black couch that H owned circa BN (before N/before the heavens blessed him with me)to a piece that will somehow blend with how I envision our future home. After all the haggling, sketching and the final selection of the fabric to be used (Shhhhhhh........Don't tell H that I have decided not to use leather/leather-like material like he insists!), I chanced upon a thrift shop and decided to pass by and see if they have large cast iron pans (To understand the relevance of the pans, please check out my previous posts).

I looked around and asked and found nothing that resembled decent cookware. Oh, well. I turned to leave then suddenly something caught my attention; something that triggered memories of my childhood. Something totally cool and awesome that I decided to buy it even without testing it, just for the sheer pleasure of having one.

Now if you know me, I am NOT and will NEVER be an impulse shopper- no matter what H tells you. I have the emotional quotient of block of cheese. I will only buy practical,necessary stuff. Its true! I never buy on impulse.

But this one is different. Its whimsical and fun and cool and the damn thing works.

Okay, I take it back. I would have felt like a complete moron and would probably kick myself if it didn't work. But hey- its a great conversation piece and the kids tripped on how different old appliances were; It is thirty years old, works like a charm and cost almost nothing.....is that not reason enough to buy it?

Call me on my rotary phone soon, okay?
MrsA

PS: The photo of the rotary phone was taken in our kitchen (not at the store). I just thought that newer phones provided a good backdrop to my latest find and should emphasize the age of the contraption. The clutter is the writer's own.

On binge cooking and my first attempt at making ensaymadas.

It has been a very stressful week for me. We capped last weekend with H not feeling well, my woggy in tantrums and there has been a recent hurdle in getting the house of our dreams. On occasions in life that are trying, I somehow manage to be calm, collected and alert but my stresses somehow manifest in binge eating and lately, binge cooking and baking.

To keep myself busy today, I made the following for lunch: grilled sirloin burgers, mashed potatoes, grilled saba bananas (just shove the bananas in a turbo broiler), cut-sliced and served watermelon for a refreshing dessert. Not much huh? Add to that the following: Ginataang talangka with sigarilas, strawberry tarts (gone within the hour after I chilled it), Nora Daza's version of banana cream pie. I also made my favorite soup, which started out as my attempt to make seafood bisque but ended up as a glorious squash soup which I topped with cream and enjoyed with a few drops of balsamic vinegar. Then I bought, marinated and shaped more burgers which I prepared and placed in the freezer just in case H and the kids would like some tomorrow.


Oh, I also attempted to make ensaymadas :)

For the ensaymada recipe, I used three references: Nora Daza's cookbook, Market Manila's post on Hinayupac na Ensaimada and called my mom. The experience has been painless, quite exciting actually- as I somehow sense that I will be able to come up with a good batch. However, It has been a loooOooong process. In fact, I started a little after lunch (about 1 PM this afternoon) and I am still final proofing the swirled dough and about to bake when it decides to increase in volume. Its already 1:39AM Manila Time.

I do not understand why this dough is not cooperating with me; it was such a hot day so I was expecting the dough to rise faster than what the great Ms Nora Daza wrote in her cookbook. But it took more than 20 minutes for the dough to double in volume on the first and second and third phases and now after I rolled, spread the cheese, made swirls and placed the dough in the molds- I am still waiting for it to puff up, 1 hour after the prescribed 20 minutes. I could be doing something wrong- maybe I should have placed a kitchen towel over the dough? Perhaps I should have placed a thermometer to gauge the temp?

This is what makes cooking and baking very interesting for me. I describe it as a very good application of chemistry, physics and yes, psychology. I love the fact that its a very unpredictable process; one that has to be adjusted depending on the weather, the altitude, availability of ingredients, condition of your cookware, tools that is used and even your mood for the day. The beauty of cooking and baking is not only in enjoying the final product but in the steps taken to achieve the desired result. It's like answering a crossword puzzle; you marvel at the beauty of a completed puzzle after you spend countless of hours filling in the damn blocks.

Needless to say, my binge cooking and baking has kept me busy and more patient today. H is feeling so much better and there has been progress with Operation Crib. I enjoyed my multiple long phone calls to Mom. To top it all, I was able to come up with food that the family enjoyed and if I am lucky, they will have great ensaymadas tomorrow for breakfast.

Keeping my fingers crossed,
MrsA

Poker night at the Almonds: Whats on the menu?

H invited some of his friends for dinner so our kitchen has been very busy since yesterday. Between shopping for fresh ingredients, ordering stuff and scheduling delivery (timing is everything!), I was an exhausted mommy.

But I always enjoy having people over. I am what they call an ever enthusiastic hostess, with the tendency to over-plan, over-prepare and do everything over the top. Moderation has never been my thing.

On tonight's menu is crown roast, marinated in olive oil, thyme, rosemary and italian pasley. I served it to our relatives during our reunion during last Christmas holiday and it was a hit; I sure hope it turns our okay this time.

We will also have our party staples: fried chicken lollipops, mashed potatoes, lasagne and chicken cordon bleu. For dessert we will have caramel apples (yes, that carnival favorite) that we made cuz I couldn't pass up the mansanitas (small apples) at the grocery store yesterday. We also made cheesecake upon the request of H and chocolate mousse that the kids love.

Bar list includes the only cocktail that H truly enjoys: Margaritas. We pre-made them in massive quantities using Patron Tequila but I made two tubs of lemon and lime based and the another two with strawberries, so when the guests arrive, it will just be a matter of scooping them onto Margarita glasses.

I hope our friends like the food. I hope H wins in poker.

N

On Sherlock Holmes, lunch bags and lunch boxes

I have always been a fan of lunch boxes. Since I got my first Holly Hobbie tin lunch box when I was in grade school, I fancied the concept of bringing home-cooked meal at school or at the office. For one, I thought and still think that that rectangular tin case was a very nice accessory that somehow distracted people from the yucky green uniform they made me wear in grade school. The second reason is lifted off the concept that was introduced to me by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle in his Sherlock Holmes books.

Men have many observable behavior or practices that indicates whats going on in his life. Neat and tidy clothes and shoes may indicate that the wife cares enough to press his clothes or make sure that the shoes are polished (or they have good maids!). Wrinkling at the arm of a man's shirt may indicate that the better-half has the habit of clinging to his arm (or he has a monkey for a pet?) A right-handed person will never put his wallet on the left back pocket of his trousers (someone took something from it then returned it). Mud on his shoes or the tires of his car means the butler did it for sure, LOL.

While obviously these may or may not be true (its a fiction book, for heaven's sake), I became fascinated by the amount of stuff that people reveal of themselves, if only we care enough to look.

Back to lunch boxes: Back when I was still working, I was envious of people who brought home food with them. It showed that either they are loved by someone who packed the meal or they have very efficient maids or cooks at home. Besides, their food is always, always better than the bland canteen food and I was sick and tired of Mickey Dees. So when I got married, I made a vow to always make lunches for my beloved.

So he who was accustomed to eating nothing else other than Taco Bell, Chilis, Fridays, CPK, McDonalds was suddenly faced with a wife who insists that he brings food to work whenever possible.


Fast forward today: H is once again on his version of the Atkins diet. He was on it once since we got married and I have seen such fantastic results but am nervous about all the cholesterol and fat that goes into a typical Atkins meal. So what i do is try and sort of balance it out with the inclusion of veggies and cooking his food with as little fat, oil or butter as possible. Now I am not a nutritionist neither am I an expert in dieting but the no starch, hi protein with equal portion of veggies made us lose inches off the waistline and lbs off the scale. Oh, and we had to give up soda too.

So for today's lunch, H will have quiche with ham and cheese and sirloin burger in romaine lettuce as substitute for buns. I always throw in catsup and mustard, just in case hes in the mood for them and I will definitely add one more item such as buttered okra or a banana.

I hope he likes my expression of love for him today.

MrsA

PS: The kids, with the exemption of Moggy- all refuse to bring lunch bags to school. They think its uncool. Ha!

Just wait 'til they're married!

What's in my bag?

Last Monday, as I headed out to cast my vote in the national elections, I realized that my purse was not only bulging, it weighed a ton! I took a photo of the contents with my cellphone camera and sent it to my friends. I thought it was funny but I don't think anyone else did, not even H who says i always bring everything but the kitchen sink.
'
Now if you also live in a tropical country where the two seasons are 'hot' or 'hotter', you will be weighed down but will always carry around anti-sunstroke paraphernalia as well, don't you think?


Mrs A.

Ensaymada challenge on hold; cast iron pan obsession

My self-imposed ensaymada challenge has been temporarily put on hold. This despite all the hard work and effort that I have extended on researching all about ensaymadas- from reading about recipes, techniques and equipment to sampling a few last Sunday. I coerced H to drive Yap and I to the mall after dinner so we can buy a few at Mary Grace. After the second serving, I remember now why their ensaymadas never registered in my palette as a favorite. It was too... for lack of a better term- blah..

Sure the bread was soft and they used some cheese other than local cheddar, but there does not seem to be any cohesive magic created when it passes my lips on to my digestive tract. It felt like I was eating regular bread with butter, sugar and cheese. No magic. Blah.

I had to do a lot more research on the matter and decided to share my dillema with my younger brother Kev, also a major foodie. Where do I begin my search for ensaymada that is to die for?

Now, if you know Kev and I, you will know that our conversations always start out with a sharing of an experience or idea then just out of nowhere- at the most inopportune time, with little or no reason- the subject will go to any other random thing. Kinda like what happened last Monday.

"Ei Kev, do you know where I can get good ensaymada? I wanna make one but I dont know what makes a good ensaymada so I would like to one that will be the benchmark of future experimentation."

"That's dumb." That's my bro. Always encouraging.

"So if you were in a lavish buffet, what would be the top three main courses that you will put on your plate?"

"Steak" he immediately replied "and more steak" he added

"Yeah, you know that I read that the best cookware for steak is a cast iron pan. I found one at a hardware store but didn't buy it cuz t'was pricey"

"The best way to season cast iron pan is to use animal fat or cook a huge slab of bacon on it. Its a tedious process" He says with the confidence of a Food Network star.

"Well, it should be do-able, given the number of people who swear its the best there is. Man, those things are heavy!"I exclaimed.

"Yep" says my baby bro. "Read Market Manila. I think he wrote about cast iron pan seasoning".

So my ensaymada obsession has been temporarily overtaken by a new one: my search for cast-iron pans. I want to learn how to season them and cook steak in it. It may have been a shift of focus but the side tracking has been truly rewarding for in a mere two days, I was able to accumulate 6 pans! Woohoo!

Now, I did not overspend on these babies. True to what we read in the net, these are unbelievable cheap. The first one was a find at a supermarket. It has Japanese markings, a flat surface on one side and grooves on the other for making paninis and for getting grill marks on steaks and such. Cost? PhP 275 or just about USD 6! I found two miniature ones in our stockroom, purchased many months ago but remained unused because we already threw away two due to rust. They cost me Php 100 each as they were on sale then. The other three were a bargain purchase at a discount store for about PhP 500 or a little over USD 10 for all three pans. I am a happy Mommy.

Naturally, when I reached home, I rushed to the kitchen to season the pans. I ended up spending many grueling hours trying to get the desired black sheen to denote that it has the non-stick properties. I did everything that can be considered wrong: not rinsing off the salt (duh!), oven not hot enough, use of wrong oil. I called it a day past midnight, feeling much like a failure.

The following day, I had a brilliant idea. Capitalizing on what I read that morning that animal fat is best for seasoning cast iron pans, I cooked H's bacon in one of the pans. I got carried away and made carbonara for lunch, just so we can cook more bacon. We then brushed the residual oil in all the other pans (brushing ensured that there are no 'puddles'), heated the stove top and have all the pans heat up to smoking point, turned off the flame and left the hot pans alone to cool off. The result? The most beautiful black sheen.

So now I am a proud owner of cast iron pans and I am proud to declare that I was able to season them properly. This morning I cooked omelets for breakfast and H said that they came out fluffier, tastier. The man truly loves me.

As for me I love my pans. The ensaymadas can wait a few days. I still gotta cook steak.

MrsA.

Ensaymada Challenge

I spent all of last night and all of today researching for a good ol' traditional ensaymada recipe. Honestly, I am not really a fan of ensaymada; I do not believe I ever had a craving for it. What ensaymada to me are two things- it reminds me so much of my childhood, my mom and dad loved ensaymada and would buy a gigantic one whenever we drive home from visiting our ancestral home in Bulacan.

The gigantic ensaymada had salted duck's eggs on top, along with the traditional butter, sugar and cheeze topping. My mom would slice it in wedges, pizza style- and would almost always exclaim that they no longer make ensaymadas the way they used to. Now- all throughout my life- I would hear that phrase whenever we eat pinoy stuff like pandesal or quesong puti or pancit palabok. Someone older than I would declare that traditional pinoy cooking is a dying art, that our generation is shortchanged as we did not have the chance to enjoy genuine Filipino cuisine the way it is supposed to be.

Hence my quest now for good old fashioned ensaymada recipe.

The other reason why I am challenged to make ensaymadas is because I am aware that it is a long and tedious process; it is not just a test of one's baking skills but it is also a test of one's patience.

If I should have a third reason is because today is Mother's Day and I would like to honor our dear Mommy Indes. It is she, along with our dear Dada, who raised my brothers and I and molded us to who we are now; that feisty lady who demonstrated to me what devotion to a beloved husband is like. I have fond memories of making ensaymadas with my mom and my brother Koo (our term of endearment for Kuya Kit), how much we enjoyed rolling the soft dough and how in many occasions we had to discard a batch due to discoloration for playing with it too much (it was already gray :)

This has become a self-imposed challenge of sorts. I must make ensaymada. I will make ensaymada!

Stay tuned!
N

Daddy is home!

H is finally back from an over-extended business trip. The frequent travels is something I truly understand and accept as a part of his job, but this trip is particularly long and I was missing him too much.

So the minute he walked in the door, my world started spinning happily again.

Naturally, after many hours of catching up and snuggling, I insisted on cooking lunch for the man I love.

Today's lunch was spaghetti with prawns, garlic, olive oil and lemon juice. This is actually my take on the dish, very light yet loaded with flavor. I was introduced to this the first time by the gorgeous Tita Merce when H and I paid her and Tito Jun a visit in their beautiful home about a month back. What I love about this other than its such a healthy alternative to the usual sauces is that it is quick and easy to make.

I am glad H is home.


Spaghetti with Olive Oil, Garlic and Lemon Juice

1/2 kilo spaghetti, cooked al dente
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
a few slivers of bacon, optional
3 cloves garlic, chopped finely
1 large onion, chopped finely
1/2 kilo extra large shrimp, peeled and deveined
juice of 1 and 1/2 lemon
salt and pepper to taste
Parmesan cheese or chili flakes, optional

Lay the bacon in a frying pan and cook until crispy. Discard bacon oil and remove cooked bacon from the pan. Set aside.
In the same pan, heat the olive oil then add the garlic and onion and saute until translucent. Add the shrimp and cook until pink. Add salt and pepper to taste. Add the chopped tomatoes then immediately remove the pan from fire. You would like for the tomatoes to remain undercooked.
Toss in the cooked spaghetti and mix with the freshly cooked sauce. Drizzle in the lemon juice, toss and serve. Top with the crispy bacon, Parmesan or chili flakes if desired.

Amici ATC

Chy agreed to go to the mall with me today, I was so pleased. Since the kids started thinking that they no longer are kids, they started hanging out with me less. In many occasions, we have to lure them out of their rooms and bribe them with food or goodies to go with us anywhere.

After running some errands, Chy and I chanced upon a familiar logo. Amici of Don Bosco in Makati is now at Alabang Town Center! They are located at that spot that was vacated by Jollibee and Greenwich at the second floor of the new wing.

To those who have not sampled Amici, they serve Italian staples such as pizza, pasta and panini. They are also known for their gelato and dessert that ranges from Brazo de Mercedes to Sans Rival. I have known about this restaurant from a former co-worker Bebs, who consistently invited us to their Makati branch. "Authentic Italian at a very reasonable cost" Bebs said. She said that an Italian friar from Don Bosco started cooking and petty soon, people from all over traveled far and wide just to taste the flavorful food. I have not quite confirmed the truthfulness and veracity of the story but I have witnessed how people braved traffic just to get to Amici in Makati.

This new branch in ATC is a refreshing change. It boasts of new and fresh signs, wares and displays because that is what they are - new and fresh. The menu is the same though I overheard another patron say that the prices in ATC is higher than in Makati. I wouldn't be surprized- one is at church grounds and the other is in a mall. Go figure.

Chy ordered lasagne and I had their squash or pumpkin soup, I am not sure. Both were served with grilled ciabatta on the side. In addition, we ordered 4-cheeze pizza to be brought home for the boys as well as a pack of bread for the crostinis that I plan to make for H tomorrow. All that, for a little over Php 700, no kidding. Oh, and they gave away samples of gelato.

The taste? When one goes to a fast food restaurant, one should expect fast food -quality food and service. No more, no less. Chynna said that her lasagne is pretty good and I laughed at her when a string of mozzarella cheese hanged down her chin (what? is it was funny!) The point is, it had stringy cheese, not local cheddar. My soup was not bad, though it would be better without the cinnamon and the all-purpose cream that they drizzled on top. The pizza was gone within five minutes upon our arrival. Gabe and Moggy enjoyed the thin crust pizza with gooey assortment of cheeses on top. The ciabatta? I sliced it and brushed it with olive oil and grilled it for dinner- it made a breadaholic very happy.

Over-all,I think ATC did good by having Amici open there (Greewich vs Amici pizza, pasta? Gosh, no contest!). Soon they will be able to figure out a better more efficient service and will open for delivery too- so that will be an even better news; good for those days when one yearns for inexpensive Italian fast food.

MrsA

Project turn-over: mission accomplished

Today I officially turned over the townhouse. Lacking sleep, with muscles sore from all the hauling and cleaning last night, I smile. Proud that we were able to accomplish a lot in a short span of time and happy that the place that we used to call home will now be a venue for new memories.

Its a strange kinda feeling to close the door behind you, knowing that you can come by and visit that special place anytime- but shouldn't. Today is the beginning of something new for the occupants. It also marks a new beginning for me.

Now I can focus on finding a new abode for our family. H and I have been house-hunting for the past many months and have found one that we truly like. It has the right number of rooms, the right size, the right make, the right build, located at the right place where we can settle down and call home.

Crossing my fingers and toes that things will turn-out the way we hope it would.

More on this soon.
N

Beth and Chy: for future reference

This one is for our daughters, Chy and Beth.

You see, Dad and I do not want to come off as uptight, overly-strict parents from the Neanderthal age. Please do not think that we are narrow-minded, demanding, critical parents. And we are not mean people either. Its just that no boy will ever be good enough for you. Ever.

Okay, maybe that is somewhat an exaggeration of the truth, but you understand what I am trying to say.

You see, whenever the subject of 'potential boyfriends' are brought up, both of you seem to expect that Dad and I will be calm and cool about it. Ladies,do not get your hopes too high. We wont ever be. Now that is NOT an exaggeration.

To help you understand our viewpoint about this, I have listed some items that your Dad and I will look for in your future potential mate (emphasis on the word future). This may be considered a part of a longer checklist, detailing minimum requirement and subject to change without prior notice.

1. Must dress appropriately, with a hairstyle that is socially acceptable and a complete set of teeth- Needless to say, he needs to look good and smell good; no body odor, no halitosis. You cannot expect us to feel comfortable seeing you with someone who does not even bother to look presentable. Don't get me wrong- we are not looking for Hollywood glamor and a Tom Cruise smile here...just do not bother to introduce someone who does not take a bath or trim his nails or have the hair on his nose sticking out. It just wouldn't be comfortable for any of us.
Seriously, we are all measured by how we present ourselves. It reflects how we want to be perceived and how we view ourselves. Now I am not talking about style or brand or cost of the outfit. Its the cleanliness and the effort extended to looking good for you.

2. Must be well mannered and be able to demonstrate common courtesy. We expect him to open doors for you, help you carry stuff and be a complete and true gentleman around you. How will we know? Well for one, we observe, even when you think we do not. Remember when you were little and we said we have more than two eyes? It's true.
We observe the way they sit, the way they stand, the way they look at you. We notice whether they chew with their mouth open and how they hold their forks, whether or not they cross their legs (shoes off? yuck!!) and how close they sit next to you.(Tip: when Dad clenches his fists, that means it's too close). We are not looking for perfection, just a semblance of culture and education.

3. Must speak clearly, respectfully and in a comprehensible manner. This is not to make fun of people with speech defects. What I mean is, he has to make sense. Some sense is good, no sense is un-good.
What makes sense? Its a combination and proportion of things. While we are not requiring an Albert Einstein-esque brain, we need to see substance there. I know we like talking about funny, nonsensical things and that is okay..but dump him if he talks dumb all the time. Your mind needs mental stimulation. Trust me, you will get bored out of your mind.

4. Drop-by or call at the appropriate time, please. We are old school. No calls, texts, IMs, visits past 10PM.

5. Must blend well with your siblings, our Woggy, Dad's Kois. My Lolo Gaudencio once told me that a person who demonstrates sincere tenderness to plants, animals and children are innately good. He who is kind to the weak and the defenseless is cool and worthy. We frown at bullies and rude kids. We are unimpressed with loud, obnoxious and self-centered individuals, no matter who they are. We unleash our killer Kois and have them attack bad people.

In essence, we just want to be reassured that you will be treated well and with respect, as you so richly deserve. We need to know that your usual opinion and sharp criticism of life and all that surrounds you are heard- for you do have good things to say. We need to know that you see as much as you can and hear what you ought to. Most importantly, we want for the both of you to grow up to your full potentials, reaching as far high as you are willing to reach yet remain humble and grounded enough in order for you to experience the real and true meaning of life and love.

More importantly, take your time. Do not be in such a hurry. Life is a glorious experience that needs to be savored slowly and not in haste. Enjoy your youth while you can; it won't stay with you for so long... it never does. You have to trust your old folks on this.

Those pretty boys better watch out. Dad and his killer Kois are watching.


Mom aka MrsA

Nicky Dawgee

I find writing therapeutic, so I rush to my laptop as soon as I sweet-talked our youngest child Moggy to go to bed. As I began to type, I noticed that once again- something that resemble a mophead has positioned itself right next to the leg of of my chair.
It is what H and I call a Woggy, and it looks so much like a Cocker Spaniel but it has the attitude of a princess, a demeanor of a 'spoiled brat' and is perhaps with the most attitude in the animal kingdom. If you look up the phrase 'royalty' in the dictionary, chances are you will find her picture.

Our woggy's name is Nicki and she considers me as the Alpha-female. This is quite ironic because I have always had a fear and dislike for anything with more than two legs.
It is by association, I guess. My H is the alpha-male and that automatically makes me the alpha-female. Or maybe its my countless futile and desperate attempts for the alpha-male to view me as the dominant specie? Hrrmmm… Oh well, at least the woggy thinks I'm dominant somehow..

Nicki is two human years old. I think that translate to fourteen dog years so she's technically a teenager. She is about a foot and a half tall, with unruly Albert Einstein hair that covers her huge eyes that resemble two very large glass balls. She's got lashes that can make any drag queen envious.

Now this lil' woggy is my constant and loyal companion. When the kids are at school and H is in one of his business trips, I have her or rather, she is stuck with me. It works well for Nicki and I. I never feel alone at the house and she enjoys the human food that I share with her.


I thought I would never understand how people, my H included-could fall in love with their pets. Prior to having Her Royal Barkness in my life, I believed that love should be shared only with members of our own species. Who in his right mind would take in a creature to feed, bathe and clean-up after? Isn't that what kids are for?

One day a few months ago I woke up and realized that I have fallen in love with H and with that came the societal expectation of understanding and acceptance of everything about him including his woggy. H and his kids are so easy to love (thank God!) but the woggy?

When I first met Nicki, she immediately wanted to be friends with me. I thought it was sweet of her. I mean, I come across people who try not to be friends with anyone and there she was, wanting to be friends. Sweet thing. I didn't kick her away because H was watching my every move.

In the beginning, it was irritating that our schedule somehow revolved around her. We had to make sure that she is fed and bathed and walked by her nanny (yes, the doggy had a nanny!) before we can go out for dinner. In not so few occasions, we had to rush to his place and make sure she eats the gourmet (!) dog food that H gently and lovingly places on her plate.

I did not enjoy the divided attention but did not want to come off as immature and self-centered so somehow tolerated this scenario- after all I was already in love with H and she didn't get in my way much. She just followed me around all the time. I mean ALL THE TIME. She would go where I go and sit where I sit and occasionally would try to sit on my lap. When I would close the door behind me when I use the bathroom, she would bark, wanting to be let in. She would jump for joy when I arrive and would try to go with me to the car when I leave.

One day she placed something between my feet. It was a tennis ball. H said that she wants to play with me and that I was to throw it so she can fetch it. So I did and true enough, she fetched it with utmost speed and precision of an Olympic athlete. She placed it on my feet again, wanting to play some more. Now,that was my first time to play where I am not the one expected to fetch the ball!

When the kids finally met her, Nicky was ecstatic. She played with them and even swam with them in the pool. She liked my kids and my kids liked her immediately.

H and I had a whirlwind romance and got married after merely several weeks of dating. Nicki seemed to be okay with this and continued to shower me with love and affection.

When we moved to our first home she adjusted pretty well. As the kids settled in their new rooms, Nicki selected and identified her place or should I say, placeS. She would sleep in any of the rooms, with any of the kids or beside H and I. Each night she would do her rounds and to make sure everyone is home. She would stay up with me and wait for H to come home almost every night. She would stay and not leave my side when i'm sick.

To anyone who has fallen in love with a pet, you know what I am describing. I am describing the type of loyalty and affection that is purer than what people show one another, simply because humans have egos and varying degrees of pride. I have never been a recipient of such pure and unconditional love and likewise have never truly loved a pet before Nicki.

So now I feed her and make sure she's bathed and groomed and gets her exercise. Now I carefully put food on her plate and add ice on her waterbowl. She continues to follow me around and teach me certain values- forgiveness (She would let me hold her when I accidentally trip or step on her), selflessness (she would protect me and Moggy at any cost), patience (she'd always wait in front of the bathroom door when I get my hour-long baths with zero complaints) and style (blonds have more fun, she insists). Nicki is still prissy and bratty and acts like the world revolves around her but that's okay. She has taught me patience.

One day she will realize that it revolves around me.

MrsA

An old Friendster Blog/ Revisiting my past

I chanced upon a blog that I have posted years ago in Friendster, a site that I used to be crazy about but has since forgotten.

It felt strange when I visited the site that I used to visit day after day,mornings, evenings and nights. While much has changed in both Friendster and the circumstances that surround my life, it felt good to revisit. It sort of like looking at a storybook of my life.

I saw faces, names and messages of old, dear friends and I wonder if they still remember me. My images in the photos that I posted do not look like me anymore, the kids have all grown taller and bigger.

When I re-read the blog that I have written in 2007, It felt like I was reading the thoughts of someone else. The 'writer' sounded like she needed to be heard, like she was trying to break free. She wanted to convey that she is tough yet one can sense that she needed comfort.

I close my eyes and utter a prayer of thanks. I am no longer that person, but I remember her and once in a while I catch glimpses of that life that she has lived, the one that has made her the woman that she is today.

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

On social stigma, life as a solo parent and Kris Aquino

I am actually new at this thing, have no clue on what would be interesting to write about. I was just drawn by the thought of sharing with everyone what goes on in my simple life and my complex mind; whether it would be interesting to the reader becomes secondary, i must apologetically say. Besides, this seem like a better and economical way money-wise and time-wise, than to sit on a psychiatrists’ couch (not that I need to, but you get the drift).

To be a solo-parent is both a blessing and a curse; I get the opportunity to raise the children on my own, without having to succumb to the complexities of a super-extended family that is common to the Philippine setting. While my family was generous enough to offer assistance by inviting us to move back in, I took the not-so-easy route of living independently so that I could develop my own backbone. The idea drove some people crazy and others wondering; I just need the space and the room, no matter how shabby it is, for my kids and I to learn and grow and love one another.

I say it is a curse as it isn't easy to wake up and realize that the marriage was dead, much more to realize that it was never alive to begin with, like a bad joke has been played. Society have a mean way of categorizing it’s people, and people- particularly women under this frowned-upon category is seen as anything but decent, honorable and respectable. Somehow, we (the unfortunate ones who survived the death of a previous relationship or has been a victim of a wise-crack slapstick joke) need to not only re-establish ourselves but prove ourselves worthy of honor, love and respect. We need to work doubly hard to show that a) we can survive, heck, accomplish big and great things, and b) we can choose to be happy. If you don’t believe me, ask around. Or read the gossip columns of past.

Did we not all frown and laugh at Kris Aquino after Joey, Philip and her list of past relationships? Did we not see ourselves better than she or feel that she was making a mistake and purposely ruining her family name by taking a chance and marrying a much younger, less experienced James? Did we not regard her life as a form of a melo-dramatic entertainment where the silly, childlike heroine’s worst enemy was herself and her weak heart & shallow mind? Sadly, the social stigma given celebrities are kinder than those given to non-celebrities- if we gather all the tears shed on the matter, we wouldnt be experiencing the water shortage to fill up the dams and we will all be assured that all hydro-electric power sources will function well for the months to come- rain or no rain.

In a highly religious country such as ours, one would expect that people would be taught to be compassionate and forgiving. On the contrary, people were downright condescending and judgmental to others who has experienced real-life drama (and sometimes action!). Its difficult to comprehend something that is not experienced by many and run against some established norms, I guess; I just sometimes wish that we can look past the mistakes of others so that we can all be afforded the chance to forgive ourselves and move on.

Surprisingly and pleasantly so, i have moved on and had a hellova ride. I am surrounded by family and friends who energize and feed my soul with much joy. My babies (They hate it when I call them babies still, but im a Mom, they will always be babies in my eyes) are such a delight to be with and are all growing-up fast! My 13-year old is a computer animation enthusiast, my 12 year old dog-lover is the editor-in-chief of their school paper, my 10 year old is jokester has the making of a world-class entertainer and is, well, kulit. My 6 year-old can read faster than anyone else in their pre-sechool. I have a fabulous and most incredible job - what more can I ask for?

I ask for people to be kinder to people who are less fortunate in life, love and the whole marriage experience. I ask for openness, that people will not judge others based on what they think. I ask for people not to see the children of failed marriages as victims- what they are are fortunate to have parents who had the courage to correct their mistakes early in life. And oh, yeah, a million dollars each in mutual fund for my children and a house in Pacific Village or AAV would be quite a treat too, hehe.

Sure, my life is unlike others’- but boy, it’s been such a fun and eventful ride.

Im sure Kris would say the same.

N

30 July 07

Our townhouse

I have been running around like a mad woman lately. Been busy repainting the townhouse that we are having rented, coordinating with brokers and finally finding a family who want to occupy our beloved space. The selection process is not at all easy, as anyone who has ever leased out or lent anything of value will tell you. It requires a lot of thought and more,actually so much more gut feel.

Women are supposed to have a keen sense of things, we are supposed to be intuitive. I can safely say that mine has been reliable so far, I cannot ever base my decision on what I see, what I hear and what people say. It has to feel right. It has fall into place, it has to be the perfect fit.

I have experienced how it is to look for a place to rent. After you get past deciding on whether or not its the ideal location, if the over-all look suits your taste and if the condition of the house is acceptable and if they can afford it, they have to be able to imagine themselves being there. They have to want to spend time there, look forward to being there, feel comfortable, safe and secure because they are there. That's why homes are special..it gives a sense of 'belonging'.

I maybe biased but this particular house is truly special. It was renovated with a family in mind- my own. This townhouse was carefully laid out bearing in mind the needs and comfort of Gabe, Chy, Yap and Moggy. You see, as a solo parent then, I pictured this house as the place where I will be in for the rest of my life. So careful attention was given to it (gotta be child-friendly!), making the impossible, possible (subdivide a room so Chy will have her privacy) and it had to make sense (more bathrooms make a happy home). It may sound corny but each tile, each nail, each coat of paint was an expression of a mother's love for her kids (and hard work!).

Little did I know that life had a wonderful surprise for me. I fell in love and married the man of my dreams in a quick, whirlwind romance. Ahhh, what a pleasant surprise! So one day we found ourselves moving to a bigger house that can better fit our new family, entrusting our beloved townhouse to our son who stayed there for a brief period.

And now that Luke got himself a new place, we fixed it and cleaned it and even before my ad was printed in the classified (i kid you not, its still about to come out this weekend!) a broker talked about a family who may be perfect for the place. They liked and reserved it immediately.

So all of last night and all of today was spent on planning, and I see myself for the next few days working on the minor-touch ups and the items that needed to be done before the turn-over. I would like the place to not only be clean and presentable, I want for the place to be homey and pleasant for family who promised to take care of it for us. I would like for them to spend many happy hours there and build beautiful memories and have many unforgettable celebrations there.

May it be filled with much joy and laughter as it did when my children and I called it home.

Nostalgic MrsA

Durian shake anyone?

I drove over to the cash machine tonight, rushing as I realized that its much later than I thought. With Emily in tow, we headed over to the atm that refused to do as it was commanded. Frustrated, I headed back home but not after driving around to RedSticks Barbecue along Alabang Zapote Road for a durian shake.

Yes, you read it right, durian shake.

I chanced upon it last Saturday, when I had to spend grueling hours under the scorching heat of the sun to get the headlights of my car fixed. With H on a business trip, it was just me, the car and the heat of the sun.

To cool off my tired and aching body and to re-energize, I went over next to the nearest kiosk that happened to be barbecue place. Not fancying anything on the menu, I just ordered diet Pepsi, the most glorious drink in the planet- as the order-taker did her job and enumerated almost everything on the menu, thinking perhaps that I could not read.

"I beg your pardon?" I asked when she said they serve durian shake. Its a regular item on the menu, their best seller and she swears that it's good. I had to try it.

It was refreshingly and surprisingly yummy, not overwhelmingly sweet and with the undeniable aroma and flavor that is distinctively durian. For those who have not tried the world's stinkiest fruit, the meat that surrounds the seed is soft, sweet and delicate with faint hint of garlicky flavor. If you have heard about the savory and sweet pastries and dessert that is now a rage in NY, this will definitely fall in that category, only natural and with a strong smell that is enough to keep your friends and enemies away. But if you can get past the smell, there is much to be desired about the taste.

For some reason, they have drizzled the drink with what tasted like chocolate syrup, though judging by the taste, I doubt it if was a recognizable brand like Hersheys. The chocolate syrup provided a strange contrast to the creamy slush. Honestly I am not sure whether I like the drink more with or without it.

For just PhP 60, I would definitely buy again. In fact tonight I attempted to but sadly Emily and I drove back without the desired drink as the store was closed for the day. No matter. I shall go tomorrow. Perhaps if I carry that drink with me to the bank, the officer will attend to me first.

Much like the mechanic did last Saturday.

MrsA

Mayonnaise if you please

I started cooking at the age of nine. My mother bought me terra cotta clay pots just because she and I found them adorable. The cookware looks like the ones that are being used at the provinces and the pot was big enough to hold maybe two cups of anything. I asked Mom if it truly can be used for cooking. Instead of just saying yes, she happily decided to test the item with me that night.

The first dish I cooked was steamed shrimp. It was quite brilliant idea, really. I mean, how much more simple can it be? Of course, shrimps were pre-washed and all I had to do is to wait for the skin to turn from gray to pink and voila! But in my pre-adolescent mind, it was an earth-shaking, proud moment. That started my love affair with cooking.

When I was about twelve, I already mastered a few dishes and have started baking cookies. My brothers Kit and Kevin were very willing taste-testers so consuming food was never a problem. My Dad did not really enjoy pastries but was very encouraging. My mother is like me, we both enjoy dessert better than the main course most of the time.

Around that period I tried making homemade mayonnaise. To my surprise, i came up with a good product whenever I made it. I experimented adding mustard at one time and garlic at another and each and every time I had zero problem. I felt I was the young Betty Crocker of the Philippines! Until that fateful day.

I left a metal spoon in the blender (we had a food processor but I wasn't allowed to touch it cuz it required some assembly and I was just 12) and the spoon spun and broke the blender and flew up in the air, scattering the emulsified eggs and oil and bruising my ego. I since have stopped making mayonnaise and stopped eating it too...until now.

Today I mustered enough courage to make a batch. I needed some for the macaroni salad I am making for our son Yap and have a lot of olive oil in the pantry so, why not?
The result was a flavorful, smooth and creamy concoction that reminded me why I started cooking. Homemade is without a doubt, far better than the store-brought kind.
And yes, I used a blender like I did when I was twelve.

So I guess in the kitchen as well as in life, we may succeed or we may fail.. we may go on or we can give-up...but no matter how long it takes for you to clean up and pick yourself up to try once again, the outcome may be unpredictable but the ride is always incredibly yummy.


MrsA's Mayonnaise

Yolks of 2 large eggs
2 Tbs lemon juice
1/2 cup Olive oil
1/2 cup Corn oil
1/2 tsp dijon mustard, optional
1/4 tsp iodized salt


Start by mixing the egg yolks with the salt and lemon juice. Add mustard if desired.Transfer onto the blender and beat on low for about 30 seconds.

When the yolk mixture is light colored, very slowly add the oil (and I mean very slowly) in a steady stream. Continue adding until the mixture is thick.

Be careful not to over-beat as it may 'separate'. If it does, simply remove the mixture from the blender and beat an egg yolk or two to repeat the process but this time adding the 'separated' mixture. (You would be happy to know that it will once again emulsify like nothing happened :)

Bread, oh glorious bread!

I have always been addicted to bread. There is something very mystical about yeast and its reaction to sugar and warm water and the reaction of flour to the froth that it creates. The time and patience required to making bread commands utmost respect to the baker. The aroma that fills the kitchen when bread is baked is sheer joy.

My earliest recollection of bread making is when I was a child. My mother, then a government employee seem to have all the energy required of mothers and more. Mom used to cook our food, sew our uniforms, bake pies and cookies, make jams and preserves and other domestic stuff. She did it mostly to save money but I know she enjoyed the process too. A highly intelligent woman, she would apply technical and scientific knowledge to everyday things, making the kitchen and the rest of the world a venue for her interests and experimentation.

One day, she announced that she enrolled at the local parish for Saturday baking classes. From then on, Mom would bring home some of the stuff that they have baked in class: lemon squares, pineapple bars, brownies and other bar cookies. Then they moved on to breads such as pandesal, cinnamon rolls and ensaymadas.

Every Sunday, Mom would try and recreate the recipes and my brother and I would be the official tasters. Every now and then, she would let us play with some left-over dough, although quite often Mom would declare it unsafe for human consumption and shove that dough straight to the garbage.

Present time. For the past weeks, I have been experimenting with a recipe that I have found in the net with very little success. The first time, it didn't rise, the second time, it was as hard as a rock. The one after that was good, but it had a Gucci-leather color (due to the red wine) that made me think twice about serving it. This morning's foccacia was bland and kinda tough, but with a little tweaking, I think I found the right recipe (with lot of herbs and olive oil), i think I know what I should have done better (stop being lazy and knead more!), and I think this would be 'the one'.

This would be the one to end my search, this would be the one recipe that will be passed on for many generations, this would be my toast to all present and past makers of bread. Most of all, this is the one that Gabe- my sweet,good son- would be pleased to taste and not have to lie about what he thinks of it- just to avoid breaking his Mom's heart. Sweet child.

Focaccia:

2 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon white sugar
1 tsp active dry yeast
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon oregano
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
1/2 teaspoon dried basil
1 cup warm water
2 tablespoons olive oil
Shredded mozzarella cheese (optional)
Directions
Mix the yeast and water in a small bowl. Let proof for 10 minutes (until bubbles begin to form).
In large bowl, stir together flour, salt, sugar, garlic powder, oregano, thyme, basil, and black pepper.
Add the yeast mix and vegetable oil to the dry ingredients and combine.
When dough has pulled together, turn out onto lightly floured surface and knead until smooth and elastic.
Lightly oil a large bowl, place dough in bowl, and turn to coat with oil.
Cover with damp cloth and let rise in warm place 25 minutes.
reheat oven to 425 degrees.
Place on greased baking sheet.
Pat dough into 1/2-inch thick rectangle or any shape you like
Make indentations in the dough, then prick dough with fork.
Brush top with olive oil, sprinkle lightly with salt.
Bake for 10-15 minutes until golden brown and there is a hallow sound when you 'knock' on the bread.
At the last 5 mins, top bread with the cheeze.

MrsA's Nutty Granola

I have been doing some extensive research for a few days now that H and I have decided to make a lifestyle switch in dining. H is an Atkins fan and swears by it, but I somehow managed to convince him to try some of my experimental Southbeach-inspired recipes.

Lunch was grilled Shrimp with dill in a bed of romaine with vinegrette. It was a quick and easy recipe to make so to keep me busy in the kitchen in the afternoon, I made granola bars.

Now I know that the main component of granola is not in the phase 1 list,so I would recommend this as a phase 2 recipe. Its fun to make and a joy to eat.

To make this, you will need:

4 cups oatmeal (plain uncooked, not instant)
Equivalent to 1 C sugar substitute or 1 c packed brown sugar
1/3 c honey or peanut butter
1 cup ground toasted nuts of your choice
1/2 c melted butter
1/4 tsp salt

Mix all ingredients and press in a greased pan. Bake at 350 degrees for 15 to 20 mins. Allow to cool before cutting into bars.

I heard that the granola bars keep for weeks in an airtight container. Today's batch was a hit with our teenagers so I wouldn't really know..


MrsA

Mrs A's Wicked Chocolate Cupcakes with Whipped Buttercream Frosting

There is a reason why I hesitated to work on this project. First, I am on a diet and I would like to stay away from anything that will veer me away from eating healthy or excessively. Second, I have no electric hand mixer.

Now while I think I can practice moderation and self-control, its the countless minutes of continuous beating of the butter cream that made me less than enthusiastic. If you want to have an idea what it's like to make icing by hand, its probably the world's best good upper body workout, guaranteed to tone your dominant arm.
You try to incorporate air into the ingredients so that it will increase in volume, become light and silky smooth and shiny. Or until your arms hurt like crazy, whichever comes first.

So you can imagine how proud I am of our creation and how each bite is more than just satisfactory. This is made with a lot of love and a lot of work and admittedly a lot of taking turns between myself and our ever-dependable Emily and Cathy :p

Someone said too many cooks spoil the soup. I say have them beat butter cream instead!

Mrs A's Chocolate Cupcake

Makes 6 XL or 12-15 M cupcakes

Ingredients
2 large eggs
1 cup granulated sugar
1 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
6 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon vanilla essence
2/3 cup milk
2/3 cup butter
1/2 c semisweet chocolate chips (optional)

Procedure:
1. Preheat oven to 350 deg F (Gas mark 4 or 180 deg C).
2. Grease 6 extra large muffin tins or cups or 12 to 15 medium ones lined with paper muffin cups or parchment paper cut into squares and pushed down by a glass to hold it's shape.
3. Beat the eggs with sugar, mix with flour, cocoa powder, baking powder, vanilla and milk.
4. Fold in the melted butter.
5. Add chocolate chips after coating them with flour before mixing into the batter.
6. Bake at 350 degrees until a until a wooden pick inserted in center comes out clean, about 20 minutes for XL muffins, about 15 minutes for medium- sized muffins.

These yummy treats may be served hot or at room temperature, with or without frosting.

The Ultimate Whipped Buttercream Frosting:
(For this you will need an electric mixer or the help of Cathy and Emily)

Beat 1 cup egg whites and 1 c sugar in metal bowl
Place bowl in double boiler and heat, just until all the sugar is dissolved.
Continue beating even after removing from heat until you reach desired consistency, gloss and volume, about 30 mins (no, this is not a typo. I mean 30 minutes!)
Add 1 cup chopped cold butter and continue whipping until smooth, about 15 mins.

Frost cupcakes as you please then enjoy!

MrsA

Gotta have Korean food!

I have been craving for spicy food lately, I have no idea why. Could it be because "Boys Over Flowers" was on when I last got my last massage that's why I've been craving for some authentic Korean food?

Whatever. It's a great way to jumpstart my new diet regimen, I convinced myself. (Its a lifestyle change I need really- I just got to stop eating loaves and loaves of bread everyday!)
So I headed over to the ever reliable SeoulSeoul at ATC and ordered Pork Galbi, medium spicy with Sesame leaves on the side. Of course this was brought to the table after they have given me several minutes to enjoy a delectable feast of appetizers- sweetened baby potatoes, spicy pickled cucumber, steamed togue, some wilted leaves w sesame oil and the usual assortment of kimchi. Yummmeh!

I was exchanging text messages with H as I dined and sent him a photo of what was to be a delectable lunch. H is in one of his frequent business trips so I am by my lonesome, phone at hand, in a quaint little resto. "I've a feeling I can loose weight if I stick to eating this kind of food for say,two weeks. It's very South Beach!" H wished me luck as I continued with lunch.

So Hurrah for koreanovelas and two thumbs-up for SeoulSeoul's Pork Galbi. Who said SBD must be boring?


MrsA

Nicki Dawgee

I find writing therapeutic, so I rush to my laptop as soon as I sweet-talked our youngest child Moggy to go to bed. As I began to type, I noticed that once again- something that resemble a mophead has positioned itself right next to the leg of of my chair.
It is what H and I call a Woggy, and it looks so much like a Cocker Spaniel but it has the attitude of a princess, a demeanor of a 'spoiled brat' and is perhaps with the most attitude in the animal kingdom. If you look up the phrase 'royalty' in the dictionary, chances are you will find her picture.

Our woggy's name is Nicki and she considers me as the Alpha-female. This is quite ironic because I have always had a fear and dislike for anything with more than two legs.
It is by association, I guess. My H is the alpha-male and that automatically makes me the alpha-female. Or maybe its my countless futile and desperate attempts for the alpha-male to view me as the dominant specie? Hrrmmm… Oh well, at least the woggy thinks I'm dominant somehow..

Nicki is two human years old. I think that translate to fourteen dog years so she's technically a teenager. She is about a foot and a half tall, with unruly Albert Einstein hair that covers her huge eyes that resemble two very large glass balls. She's got lashes that can make any drag queen envious.

Now this lil' woggy is my constant and loyal companion. When the kids are at school and H is in one of his business trips, I have her or rather, she is stuck with me. It works well for Nicki and I. I never feel alone at the house and she enjoys the human food that I share with her.


I thought I would never understand how people, my H included-could fall in love with their pets. Prior to having Her Royal Barkness in my life, I believed that love should be shared only with members of our own species. Who in his right mind would take in a creature to feed, bathe and clean-up after? Isn't that what kids are for?

One day a few months ago I woke up and realized that I have fallen in love with H and with that came the societal expectation of understanding and acceptance of everything about him including his woggy. H and his kids are so easy to love (thank God!) but the woggy?

When I first met Nicki, she immediately wanted to be friends with me. I thought it was sweet of her. I mean, I come across people who try not to be friends with anyone and there she was, wanting to be friends. Sweet thing. I didn't kick her away because H was watching my every move.

In the beginning, it was irritating that our schedule somehow revolved around her. We had to make sure that she is fed and bathed and walked by her nanny (yes, the doggy had a nanny!) before we can go out for dinner. In not so few occasions, we had to rush to his place and make sure she eats the gourmet (!) dog food that H gently and lovingly places on her plate.

I did not enjoy the divided attention but did not want to come off as immature and self-centered so somehow tolerated this scenario- after all I was already in love with H and she didn't get in my way much. She just followed me around all the time. I mean ALL THE TIME. She would go where I go and sit where I sit and occasionally would try to sit on my lap. When I would close the door behind me when I use the bathroom, she would bark, wanting to be let in. She would jump for joy when I arrive and would try to go with me to the car when I leave.

One day she placed something between my feet. It was a tennis ball. H said that she wants to play with me and that I was to throw it so she can fetch it. So I did and true enough, she fetched it with utmost speed and precision of an Olympic athlete. She placed it on my feet again, wanting to play some more. Now,that was my first time to play where I am not the one expected to fetch the ball!

When the kids finally met her, Nicky was ecstatic. She played with them and even swam with them in the pool. She liked my kids and my kids liked her immediately.

H and I had a whirlwind romance and got married after merely several weeks of dating. Nicki seemed to be okay with this and continued to shower me with love and affection.

When we moved to our first home she adjusted pretty well. As the kids settled in their new rooms, Nicki selected and identified her place or should I say, placeS. She would sleep in any of the rooms, with any of the kids or beside H and I. Each night she would do her rounds and to make sure everyone is home. She would stay up with me and wait for H to come home almost every night. She would stay and not leave my side when i'm sick.

To anyone who has fallen in love with a pet, you know what I am describing. I am describing the type of loyalty and affection that is purer than what people show one another, simply because humans have egos and varying degrees of pride. I have never been a recipient of such pure and unconditional love and likewise have never truly loved a pet before Nicki.

So now I feed her and make sure she's bathed and groomed and gets her exercise. Now I carefully put food on her plate and add ice on her waterbowl. She continues to follow me around and teach me certain values- forgiveness (She would let me hold her when I accidentally trip or step on her), selflessness (she would protect me and Moggy at any cost), patience (she'd always wait in front of the bathroom door when I get my hour-long baths with zero complaints) and style (blonds have more fun, she insists). Nicki is still prissy and bratty and acts like the world revolves around her but that's okay. She has taught me patience.

One day she will realize that it revolves around me.

MrsA

Today's bargain find- Books!

This is an attempt to turn this into something other than a food blog and switch on to my other interests- reading and bargain hunting.

Yesterday's find were paperbacks at a book sale. Whenever I get a chance to visit the mall, my feet usually take me to a store that sells books, like i am drawn to it. I have a knack at finding them even without much effort. Its instinctive that I somehow know where they are. Pretty much like how hogs know where the truffles are underground.

I came home with four books for Php 198. That's 2 books for PhP 99. Quite a steal really, its actually cheaper than a visit to Starbucks for a grande frappucino and a pastry- minus the calories that I don't really need.

Books take you to places you've never been, gives you a look at lives of people that you will never meet and gives you a perspective that's far from your own. Recently, I've grown a fondness for cook books and books cataloged under humor- i hate feeling sad or scared or angry. I don't need to pick on someone's work nor spend money to get those emotions. I just tune in on our local news or watch the presidential debates on TV for that. Or I just look at the mirror.

I started with Martha, Really and Cruelly- The Complete Unauthorized Autobiography of (you guessed it) Martha Stewart. Now this I just grabbed cause there was nothing else that struck my fancy and let me tell ya, I am glad I did. Authors Connor and Downey painted a picture of Martha's alleged dark side- controlling, self-centered and mean -completely different from the amiable, ideal homemaker that she is on TV. It's quite funny. I think I like her dark side more than the one in cable TV.

Confessions of a Sociopathic Social Climber is a favorite. I felt like I was talking to my evil self. I have a feeling that if I rip off the covers and have H read it, he would think that it was about me.

Erma Bombeck is timeless. Of course, she hilariously describes domestic life in the golden days and more than her self-depreciating humor, its interesting to learn about how different things were before iPod and internet, when all phones had rotary dials and were wired to the wall.

Autobiographies are books I treasure and started reading early in life. Being a Marcos baby, I read that he had a vast collection of these in order to learn from the past and avoid the same mistakes in the future. Makes sense to me.
I've read about the lives of a variety of people- from ones who attained unbelievable successes to the Hollywood-types like Lucille Ball and the King of Pop.

For inspiration in cooking, I have the ever-reliable Betty Crocker for fool-proof recipes, Martha Stewart Pies and Tarts and a Filipino cooking icon Nora Daza for filipinized versions of french, american and of course local cuisines. I smile when I come across ingredients like Liberty Condensada. Is it still in the market?

So now I rate yesterday's shopping experience with four stars plus one for the price. H will be proud and happy that I continue to save money. He will even love the fabulous pair of shoes that I bought to celebrate!

MrsA

I received a cookbook (Cafe by the Ruins: Memories and Recipes) last Christmas from Bam, a dear friend and fellow foodie and I cannot wait to try out the recipes. I shall attempt to recreate a classic recipe from this famous Baguio spot and I will share it with you in another blog entry.

An unforgettable trip to Ashe County and great Nanner Puddin'

Like every other Filipino, I have a sweet tooth. I dare say that all my teeth are sweet. In fact, I have on many occasions skipped the main course and headed straight on to dessert.
Not to say I cook spaghetti with hotdogs, tomato catsup and sugar but I twirl my fork around McSpaghetti or Jollybee Spaghetti once in a great while, just for the sweetness.

A visit to Ashe County, NC was no exception. My H and his dad Larry whom everyone in the family fondly calls Pa, along with our daughter Beth were nice enough to give me a tour and show me their mountain
house. Sure, we flew (yes, flew- with H and Pa in the cockpit!) there for some sight seeing but it too became a gastronomical trip. It was my introduction to the some good 'ol traditional southern barbecue at the Smokey Mountain.
There we were joined by Pa's friend of many many years, a bubbly gentleman who also epitomizes genuine warm friendliness that southerners are known for.

The shredded pork barbecue was juicy and with delicate smokey flavor. The taste is not unlike the Philippine roasted pig or 'litson' from Central Luzon. It was served with a variety of things to chose from. I asked the lady what was their best seller and went with that (baked beans). On the side, I had to get a bowl of chili, not much for the heat or warmth but so I can taste their version of it. Lovely!

H had his barbecue in a bun (!?) and swears that it's a great way to indulge in the dish. Beth just had a burger but she and I partook of the dessert - a slice of Pumpkin pie and an awesome bowl of banana pudding.

Now the banana pudding was something else. The pudding was creamy and subtle with a hint of vanilla, a perfect backdrop for the fresh sweetness of the banana slices. Nilla wafers were thrown in and it added lovely texture to the dessert. It was heaven in bowl.

Pa said that he has had better barbecue. If you ask me, the barbecue lunch was wonderful. The trip, the conversations, their southern hospitality and seeing H happy in the company of his loved ones made it an experience that will always be remembered.

My version of Banana Pudding:
Ingredients
• 3/4 cup sugar
• 1/4 cup cornstarch
• 1 liter fresh milk
• 4 egg yolks
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1/2 stick butter
• 3 medium bananas, sliced
• 1 big bag vanilla wafers

Mix together sugar and cornstarch and slowly add milk. Cook over low to medium heat, stirring constantly until it thickens--do not leave it unattended.
Slightly beat egg yolks and temper with a small amount of the hot custard; stir well. Add egg mixture to custard pot and cook 2 more minutes.
Remove from heat and add vanilla and butter. Let cool. In a 9 by 9-inch dish or a bowl alternate pudding, bananas, and wafers, beginning with pudding and ending with pudding.
I used tiny little clear shot glasses and it came out nice and fancy :)
For garnish, top with a wafer or chocolate shavings.