LP6: Papaitan, Kanding Kaldereta

Papaitan

In Pangasinan, and I think in most parts of country, weddings, baptisms, fiestas and other big gatherings usually call for the slaughter of a pig, or several pigs actually, to feed the guests at the reception. If the reception is held in a hotel or restaurant, tradition merits a separate party, called a pagatin (literally to step on), on the eve of the occasion or usually after the official reception, at the home of the bride or celebrator.

A pig is favored because all the animal's parts, including the blood, can be cooked into different dishes. Pangasinan being surrounded by the South China Sea and criscrossed by rivers, streams and creeks, not to include the flooded ricefields during the rainy season, fresh fish and seafood are regular features in daily meals. So parties call for a taba ed bibil, literally "lard on one's lips," since fatty hogs are very much favored. Months before the scheduled party, a belek or fattening hog is procured for careful tending in anticipation of the richness it will eke out.

In small gatherings, or during the aforementioned pagatin, which is usually limited to family members and extended relatives, a smaller, "wilder" animal is preferred. Goats are mainstays of farmhouses in the barrios, led out to pasture and exercise every morning, and "come home" on their own every afternoon. The goats are either owned by those tending them, or tended for other families in kasamak* fashion. These goats are bred mainly for family reunions, particularly in remembrance of the death anniversary of a loved one, during All Souls Day, Christmas holidays, adult birthdays, and other excuses for a gathering around the table, including an excuse to drink up, with friends, with kindergarten classmates, and a thousand and one other reasons.

A goat has a lower fat content than a pig, requires low maintenance (just grass, sunshine and a little patch to run around), and gives less relative to the meat-bone ratio of a pig. So there's no worry of a goat meat overload, unlike when a pig is slaughtered and you'd have to contend with eating pork every meal for an entire week then worry about an impending heart attack.

But like how a pig slaughter and its cooking for a feast generates a spirit of community, killing a goat also brings to the fore the Filipino bayanihan spirit, whereby neighbors come along and help gratis. For of course, several people are needed to tie-up the goat, hold it for the fatal slash to the neck (may he rest in peace), for the ritual pulpog to burn the hair and skin, to carve the body, then to cook the various parts in spices.

Men commonly cook the goat meat and parts. I think this is just to continue the task of preparation from the slaughter to the table. Goat meat, too, is prized as pulutan, because it is gamey, in both senses of the word, thus requiring long cooking and a lot of flavoring ingredients and spices. Perhaps the men want to tailor the taste of the dishes to complement the Philippine national drink San Miguel pale pilsen or to several rounds of the more preferred (in price, not in taste) bilog or lapad (terms for the containers of the local gin).

Kanding Kaldereta

Like a hog, all goat parts are used in cooking various dishes. The bony meat is slow-cooked in a caldereta with tomato sauce, bell peppers, peas, garbanzos or chickpeas, carrots, potatoes and pickles. The innards are chopped fine then cooked in a soup flavored with calamansi (local small limes), ginger, black pepper and a little of the goat's bile. This is called papaitan or pinapaitan, meaning "made bitter" in the Pangasinan and Ilocano languages.

Nothing is wasted. The skin, torched to singe the hair, and the mouth and ears are chopped finely, boiled in ginger, and tossed with minced onion, finely grated ginger and vinegar, for a warm and chewy kanding kinilaw, or kilawing kambing.

Of course, the goat dishes are not solely for pulutan, but mainly to eat with the family and relatives, sharing good times and catching up with one another's lives. They are meant to tighten the bond between blood relations by partaking of food at a table laden with family roots and tradition.

*Kasamak (land tenant) is the Pangasinan term for a farmer who tends the landowner's real estate properties, with sharing of the proceeds of the land's output based on what was previously agreed upon and what is common practice, although nowadays it is determined by regulations set by the Department of Agriculture, especially if the property is under the Comprehensive Agrarian Reform Program or CARP.

The kasamak can also tend for the landowner animals intended for selling for profit, or for future use, called iwi. If the animal is sold, sharing is about 50-50 after capital and tasa (advances made by the owner to the kasamak). If the animal is killed for meat, the owner gives the kasamak a patronage fee.

All these because the Philippines is still largely an agricultural country, with a feudal type set-up.

This merry, drinking event, Lasang Pinoy 6, is hosted by Ting at World Class Cuiscene.

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Stir-Fried Multi-Colored Noodles

If I have one very obvious weakness, it is for pancit, or noodles. I could never turn down any, even spoiled ones, claims my husband. And with South-East Asia being the noodle region, and with imported dried noodles flooding the market these days, I have hoarded packs and packs of dried noodles from various groceries that I visit, most of the time with nary an idea how to cook them. The labels in foreign characters (they look Arabic) aggravate the situation. But cooking is largely experimental, so I try to be brave.

I've had these multi-colored, dried noodle "nests" for a while, in a package which I took to have come from Indonesia, or Malaysia. One morning, feeling a little bit put off by the usual breakfast fares, I turned to the pack and stir-fried the contents, along with previously boiled young corn, green peas, snow peas, sliced button mushrooms, and some chicken meat, chopped ham and boiled quail eggs.

It turned out quite tasty, with a multi-textural feel, and was very colorful, which made it attractive enough to eat. I'm also happy about the load of vegetables so early in the day. I think it's a good enough entry for ARF/5-A-Day Tuesday #5, which Sweetnicks is hosting weekly. As I can say, you can't go wrong with noodles. Or maybe it's just me.

Or maybe, it's just an IMBB hang-over.

IMBB#22: Lomi

I don't really cook by the book - I mean I don't use cookbooks often, excuse the pun. I actually own, as of now, three cookbooks, all of them gifts - a Chinese one, Cooking with Yan, from Australia, given by an aunt; Practical Fast Pasta, a birthday gift from a friend; and a Filipino cookbook, The Maya Cookbook, a Christmas gift from an office colleague.

I can count with my two hands the dishes I've actually cooked from out of these three. Food I've eaten as a child I recreate from memory, or I try recipes dictated by friends, or I use my taste buds to approximate what I've eaten in a party or restaurant. And of course I have reams and reams of recipes I printed from my daily trawlings of food blogs, local and otherwise.

I've found that I don't really follow recipes, because those I've tried I didn't care about the taste. Recipes I use just to guide me on which ingredient goes first, then I improvise from there on.

This lomi is a fruit of my improvisation, or appropriately, experimentation. It is not the Batangas lomi, but from lomi I've eaten at our office Executive Lounge, and a bit influenced by Chow King's, which, needless to say, I like. Most of their noodle dishes I shamelessly admit I like, actually. More Filipino in taste than Chinese.

This lomi has often been on our dining table lately, with the cool weather and all, and especially since it's been raining here constantly for a week now. It's great to wake up to a hot bowl of the thick noodles in an equally thick, viscous soup full of comforting things. A great afternoon filler, too, and left-overs can be heated up next morning. And it's very versatile, I have made one with just flaked chicken meat and sliced squidballs, to tasty results.

My Lomi

100 gms lean pork, preferably menudo cut, sliced thinly (about 1 1/2 inches in length)

100 gms pork liver, sliced like the pork meat

300 gms chicken soup pack, or chicken stock

100 gms small shrimps (can be tagunton, or river shrimps), shelled,

reserve the heads

100 gms fresh squid, cleaned and sliced

a few squidballs, orlian, chicken balls, fish balls (optional), quartered

a pack of thick miki noodles (about 1/4 kg)

2 carrots, julienned

100 gms snow peas, ends trimmed

a stalk of celery, sliced thinly

garlic and onion, minced

1 egg, beaten

1. Wash the chicken soup pack and saute in garlic and onion. Sprinkle salt or a dash of patis and white pepper. Turn sides. When the chicken has turned brown on all sides, add about eight cups of water, cover and bring to a boil. Alternatively, just put the chicken in a pan of water and bring to a boil, this way less cooking oil is used. After about 15 minutes, turn off fire and scoop out chicken to let cool. Flake chicken meat and discard skin and bones.
2. If using stock just bring to a boil in a pan of water.
3. Put the shrimp heads in a mortar, pour 2 tablespoons of the soup stock, and pound. Pour back the soup, sieving the shrimp heads. Repeat for about two to three more times.
4. Heat a little cooking oil in a pan, and saute garlic and onions. Stir fry the pork, liver, squid, shrimps and balls for about three minutes. Transfer to the pan of soup stock and bring to a boil.
5. Wash the noodles then put into the boiling pan. Put in the flaked chicken.
6. Boil on medium to high heat for about three minutes, stirring occasionally. Season with salt and pepper, to taste.
7. Put in carrots, snow peas and celery. After about a minute, pour the egg, and stir in the soup until it sets. Serve immediately.

Serve with sliced kalamansi, fried garlic, sliced spring onion, and patis (fish sauce).

This first IMBB of the year is hosted by Amy at Cooking with Amy.

Tagged with: IMBB # 22 + Noodle

Sugar Low Friday: Mango Sago

I try to live by the self-imposed policy of eating and cooking what's in season. As a corollary to this, I also try to consume, as much as possible, what's endemic in the area, even though trade liberalization has made it possible for temperate fruits and vegetables to reach our tropical shores. Or that, scientific breakthroughs have made summer fruits to be available year-round.

The suspect manipulation of these plants, so they could bear fruit out of season, harvesting before their prime, waxing - who knows what consequences our bodies would suffer from these? Although of course, most "commercial" (considered as having enough market to be cultured for mass production) fruits sold nowadays, even during their season, have been forced by chemical sprays. Is there a way to escape?

Anyway, that was just an apocalyptic introduction to my low-sugar dessert for 2006's first Sugar High Friday, only this time it's Sugar Low Friday #15, hosted by Becks & Posh and everybody seems to be heading towards healthier eating this year.

Mangoes are in season now, peaking at the height of summer in April and May, when the tropical heat would be merciless on mango-gobbling maniacs by inducing itchy freckles at the back of the neck. With that in mind, it is good to eat mango sago now, when the weather is still cool, and start getting one's fill of the fruit so as not to be so greedy when summer comes. I don't care about cornstarch lining my neck by then.

This dessert can be made from mangoes that are past their prime and starting to sport black spots on their skins because you cannot keep up with them ripening even though all you eat is mangoes day and night. Of course, good, ripe, unblemished ones can be used, too, but I personally think the latter are excellent eaten simply, by themselves. So.

To make, just scoop out the flesh from ripe mangoes and put them in a bowl. Then decide how you want your mango sago - silky and smooth, chunky, or with brawn. For a silky dessert, process all the mango flesh until smooth. If chunky, process or mash finely with a fork half of the mangoes and cube into small pieces the other half. If you want the last, just cube everything.

Mix the mangoes with pre-cooked small, white sago, or palm pith pearls. A tip on cooking the sago - drop them when the water is merrily boiling and cover. When the water has been reduced, add tap water, then cover and let boil again. Repeat the same process until you don't see any more white dots. Drain under running water, then put in a pan of tap water until used. If not to be used for days, drain water thoroughly and store in the refrigerator.

Mango and sago together can now be eaten, but evaporated milk can also be added to make the dessert creamier. Sweetened condensed milk and cream are other options, but in keeping with the low sugar theme, which I extend to low-fat, mango, sago and evaporated milk are good enough a trio. The taste becomes heavenly when served cold. It keeps for about five days, as long as it is stored in the refrigerator.

I'm not sure if an un-cooked dessert qualifies for SHF, but whenever I can (which is most of the time), I don't cook fruits because exposing fruits to heat dissolves their vitamins and minerals. There is no need to cook mangoes, anyway. As long as they have ripened fully, they are as sweet as honey, only brighter and sunshinier. There is no need to add sugar, or any sweetener. The sago added to the dessert, besides providing textural contrast, serves as foil to the mangoes' sweetness. And milk goes well with any fruit. I could eat this every day. That is, as long as mangoes are in season.

Tagged with: SHF # 15 + Low Sugar

HEAT Firing Up

HEAT's Chef Deepak at the Indian Station

A month after EDSA Shangri-la Manila launched its new coffeeshop, HEAT, standing for Healthy Eating, Amazing Tastes, is firing up and redefining local hotel restaurant dining.

Coming back for dinner, I'm happy to note that being in full commercial operation has not in any way dimmed the homey feel and taste of the food, even though throngs and throngs of people were busily scanning each and every section of the eleven dining stations, and afterwards piling food on plate after plate.

Our dinner host, EDSA Shangri-la's whirlwind of energy Director of Communications Neil Rumbaoa, graciously explained that, as a matter of policy, HEAT maintains this home-cooked goodness and tasty freshness by cooking food in small batches, so the flavors are given space to bloom and develop. Only when the platters are half-empty do the cooks start on the next batch.

My dinner companion and I made sure to arrive early, right after HEAT's opening hour, which was about an hour before it filled up. This not only to see the food in all their pristine plated glory, but more because we wanted to stretch the length of our dinner, and so be able to sample more of the food this time.

I tried to skip the excellent dishes I sampled last time, but then I saw that the classic smoked salmon in dill mustard was given a new twist - smoked salmon sat happily like a dewy tangerine rose on a polenta muffin, with a segment of grapefruit on top. A dollop of dill mustard made it look like the icing on a savory cupcake. Honestly, that was one inspired appetizer. The salmon was silky on top of the subtly grainy muffin, and the bitter-tart grapefruit rounded up the flavors of salty-creamy and slightly sweet. I had to go back. Again. And again.

And that proved to be my doom. With the array of incredible appetizers right there, I filled myself even before I could eat my salad. I was smitten by the cute little ceramic containers of Middle-East meets South-East couscous in fresh spring rolls (effective!), and by a continental chicken salad on toasted white bread as well. Then there was parma ham skewered, not on the usual cube of honeydew, but on ripe papaya, giving it a more sunshiny look and taste, the sweeter papaya pairing beautifully with the salty shavings of ham.

Ahh, I could live on appetizers alone. But no, there was rack of lamb with onion tapenade, with slices running the entire gamut of rare to well-done. The latter was very tender, and went rather well with the olives and tomato croissant from the savory breads collection at the carving section.

And I couldn't believe myself, but a little fiesta was going on right there at the Filipino section. There was a sweetish sinigang na sugpo (prawns in sour broth), chicken relleno, beef puchero, lechon, and wonder of wonders! kalderetang kambing! (goat meat stewed in tomato sauce). Right from my first forkfull, I realized I can never, ever brag again that only proper Pangasinenses (and maybe some Ilocanos, hehe) can cook a super-duper kalderetan kanding (as called in Pangasinan), the bony meats simmered slowly in tomatoes, potatoes, bell pepper, pickles and some secret ingredients. I was so astounded I wanted to meet the Filipino chef to ask if he was from Pangasinan (haha, still!).

Chef Deepak's tandoori chicken was fiery and so flavorful. Three stands of cracked ice cooled the bounty from the sea - fresh oysters, steamed rock lobsters and marine crabs, and mussels flown in from New Zealand, the homeland of HEAT's Executive Chef Timothy Stanhoppe. These were cooked (or not) and presented simply, the better to taste their juicy sweet freshness, and adhering to HEAT's adage of healthy eating.

This second visit reinforced my first impression that here is where you can find the real authentic Italian pizza in this section of the world atlas. I'm as mad about HEAT's pizza as before, maybe even more so now that we didn't order one but just took a slice of what's available at the counter. It happened to be the basic cheese and tomato one, and boy, the utter deliciousness of its simplicity took my breath away. Baked to a crunch in a wood-fired oven, tingling with whispers of herbs, ripe tomatoes evoking bright Italian sunshine.

But on to dessert. That night the chocolate fountain had for its companion an orange-flavored milk fountain (not orange chocolate fountain - I don't think it's right to call anything un-chocolate as chocolate, like white chocolate, which doesn't contain a single minute microgram of cocoa, but is just milk fat), that played with my tastebuds, inducing a mild attack of sentimental indulgence on the sweets of my childhood.

But the next big surprise of the night is, at the start of the dessert section are three long tiers of some desserts which looked so familiar that for a moment I wondered if I were suddenly transported somewhere else, probably by some port-key-wielding gluttony police.

Filipino desserts, from top, puto, nilupak, buko pie

I would never have touched any of these had they been in a food counter in a mall, even in a kitschy restaurant, or even by the roadside on the way to Los Banos, Laguna. I would go all the way to The Original's for buko pie, or maybe settle for Lety's. I've eaten enough pies without buko that I stopped trying to find alternatives to the two. I'm also from the land of Calasiao puto that I invariably turn a wary blind eye to any variant of its kind.

But to find these at HEAT, well. I was actually shaking as I got a sample from each line. Would they sadly end on a mediocre note my otherwise fabulous dinner?

Well, no, they did not. They were more than decently good. They were glorious, in fact. And that's all I can say. Hats off to the chef.

I really can't believe it. I'm still stunned, several days later, by the succulent strips of tender buko filling the slices of pie to the brim. And by the dense chewiness of the cheesy nilupak. As for the puto, it was bouncy and moist, with the right sweetness. I'm a Pangasinense to the core, and I won't pretend I'm not loyal, but I would have clapped my hands in delight right then and there had it been possible. Especially after finishing that immaculately white shooter glass of buko in pandan-flavored evap.

Kudos to HEAT for showcasing Filipino dishes in all their unadulterated splendor, without a hint of tweaking to suit foreign palates. Mabuhay kayo!

HEAT Coffeeshop, EDSA Shangri-la Manila
1 Garden Way, Ortigas Centre
Mandaluyong City 1650
Metro Manila, Philippines
Tel (63 2) 633 8888
Fax (63 2) 631-1067
Email esl@shangri-la.com

Read about HEAT's launching/my first visit here.

Baked Buchi

This is my entry to ARF/5-A-Day Tuesday #4, on its, well yes, fourth week, hosted by Sweetnicks, who also does the round-up of all entries every Tuesday evening. It is interesting to read about all the entries and try them on your own, as each includes at least one anti-oxidant rich food, or fruits and vegetables. In short, healthy.

The main anti-oxidant ingredient in a baked buchi is the red kidney bean, which is way up there in anti-oxidant content - third in ranking, after wild red beans and wild blueberries. In the Philippines, it is readily available year-round and the most accessible among the top 20 ARF's. It is also widely eaten locally, as part of Mexican-influenced dishes, but mainly as a component of local desserts, like hopia (flaky, flat rounds of packed bread with sweet fillings of mashed beans, similar to the Japanese thin, round, filled cakes) and halohalo, literally and loosely translated as "many sweet things mixed together" and akin to many South-East Asian cold desserts. And of course the Chinese buchi, sweet-filled sesame-covered balls deep-fried to a puff.

I don't know who influenced whom, in the case of buchi, because there is an emerging literature disputing the accepted origins of most Filipino foods, but here, if Chinese influence is proven, it doesn't really matter, because it has evolved and adapted to the Filipino palate and resources, becoming a naturalized Filipino in the process. It has become healthier, too, by not having to be fried in liters of cooking oil.

Baked buchi is a common, streetside snack, but only in the central plains of Luzon - in the provinces of Bataan, Zambales and Pampanga. Elsewhere in the country, buchi is the Chinese buchi. I've never even come across baked buchi, if not for a couple of friends who have roots in Bataan and who have described the delicacy to me with such fondness and longing. One of them who recently went on a trip to Pampanga brought me some, and readily shared how it was cooked in his grandmother's house.

Here is my transcription of that ancestral recipe from my good friend Miguel Capistrano, as cooked in his grandmother's house in Wawa, Pilar, Bataan (with me filling in some details):

Baked Buchi

1 kg ansak-ket/malagkit (glutinous/sticky rice)

1/4 kg dried red kidney beans

1 kg granulated sugar

grated dry coconut meat from 2 medium-sized coconuts

hot water (previously boiled)

Filling

1. Soak the red kidney beans in water for about five hours, then discard the water.
2. Put the beans in a deep pan full of water and boil for about an hour. Discard the water again.
3. Put back in a pan of water, adding about half of the sugar. Boil for another hour or longer, until mushy.
4. Mash the beans finely and set aside.

1. Soak the rice in water overnight.
2. Discard the rice water, then ground (grinders, as well as ground rice, are available in most wet markets).
3. Knead the rice dough into a long, thin roll, then cut into three-inch pieces.
4. Flatten each piece into rectangles, spoon in some filling, then roll. Seal the edges by crimping the dough closed on both ends of the roll. Arrange in a ceramic baking pan.
5. Soak the grated coconut meat in about five cups of hot water for a few minutes, then squeeze out the cream. Sieve the meat and set the squeezed-out cream aside. This is the kakang-gata.
6. Repeat no. 5, this time using a fresh batch of hot water, about eight cups. Dissolve the remaining sugar, or adjust according to taste, in this cream.
7. Pour the coconut cream squeezed last onto the buchi. Cover the pan with aluminum foil and bake on high for about 15-20 minutes.
8. During the last five minutes of baking, uncover the pan, and pour in the kakang-gata.
   

The buchi rolls are what are commonly sold in the provinces where they originated. I made mine ball-shaped like a Chinese buchi, flattening them out like how you flatten out a palitaw. This proved disastrous, though, because the balls were too thin to hold the filling together (or maybe I put in too much filling). The red kidney bean filling leached onto the coconut cream, turning it brownish, but the dessert turned out delicious, nonetheless, even though my friend and I forgot to mix sugar in the gata. So a note here: this is also good sugar-free, haha. And it can be eaten hot straight from the oven or cold straight from the ref the following day.

I learned from a comment left on my post about Pinoy streetfood by Bataan native Apicio that these are called bilobilo and that many kinds of fillings are used, like ube (a kind of taro or purple yam), yellow munggo (mung beans) and red azukis, again, like the Chinese buchis. Serving all these together make for a colorful dessert. And traditionally, it is cooked in a clay oven, with burning coals placed on top and beneath, like how a bibingka galapong or latik is cooked.

Isn't this what is called mochi in Pampanga?

One word of caution, though - red kidney beans supposedly contain high concentrations of the toxic substance lectin, which can cause rapid and spontaneous food poisoning. This stems from eating the beans raw. This can be easily avoided by thoroughly cooking the beans and avoiding undercooking them. The beans are thoroughly cooked when they have turned plump and almost bursting in their skins. I've incorporated in the recipe the precautions that should be observed.

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A Choc-full Holiday Season

Royce Nama Chocolates, Mild Cacao

Chocolates are versatile gifts year-round. They are constant balikbayan pasalubong (gifts from those returning abroad), even though most international commercial chocolates are now available in the Philippines, the American-produced ones, at least, and those made in and around South-East Asia.

Everybody loves chocolates, that may be a fact, be it a hot cup of the thick liquid, or a bar, or made into pastries and cakes, or even contained in biscuits and cookies.

I experienced a flood of chocolates received as sweet gifts last holiday season, starting with Ghirardelli bars from my US BBM partners and from New Zealand via Paris, boxes of brownies from the bosses at work, then a lip-smacking slice of ganache-covered chocolate cake from a couple, various local and imported choco bites for the kids (with the admonishment from the givers for me not to appropriate and let the kids enjoy as much as they want, it was Christmas, after all), from a colleague a very fine and extra-smooth Swiss milk chocolate which caressed the tongue in velvety silkiness, a bar of Gianduia chocolate I bought for myself from Amici, and very lately a big bar of Dutch chocolate from a very generous benefactor.

Not to demean all the others in quality - they were all stars in their own right, shining in their own, uniquely bright identities - but the supernova of my holiday chocolate collection was, easily, the two boxes of Royce Nama chocolates, from a longtime friend who's with Cathay Pacific, and who made a surprise appearance two days before Christmas.

The sudden turn-up was a good enough Christmas gift for us her friends from college who were still here in the Philippines (she was with our other friends now living in the West Coast just a week ago), but she made the meet sweeter with a bag containing Nama chocolates in champagne and mild cacao flavors, hand-carried from HongKong. She professed she could finish an entire box of the chocolates in one day, and was happy to share the passion with her friends.

The chocolates came in layers of wraps. Inside a plastic bag is a kind of reflective insulation polyethylene foam encasing boxes in gift-wrappers, with a couple of cold gel packs to keep them cool. Tearing away the wrapper we came upon thin boxes decorated in the same design as the wrappers'.

Inside the box is a brochure from the Nama chocolate company with a breath-taking photo (which I've tried to recapture in the topmost photo, in vain) of the various Royce flavors, helping build up anticipation for the chocolates, which are ensconced in a sealed plastic tray. There is a dessicant, and a plastic pick with which to eat the chocolates.

The chocolates are melt-in-your-mouth buttery-velvet rectangles covered in fine cocoa powder. I can understand how one box can be easily consumed in a day, in one sitting even. They are addictive. A taste of cloud 9. Like the suiboku-ga, the Japanese monochromatic renderings of nature, inviting contemplation and meditation, Royce's refined pureness almost brings one to a highly-achieved meditative state, verging on spiritual enlightenment. It deserves to be the sweet partaken of after imbibing the bitter and thick green tea during chano-yu, the highly ritualistic Japanese tea ceremony. I felt like I was trespassing, not worthy of experiencing something beautiful. Transluscent. Ethereal. Eternal.

The chocolates are very fragile and so delicate, and would readily crumble in your hand. They need to be in a constant, low temperature, the reason for the two packets of cold gel included in the pack. They originated in the upper latitudes of Japan, after all. The effect of the Philippines' tropical climate can be seen in the already sweating pieces of chocolate in the first photo.

Japanese culture is embodied in the Royce chocolates - delicate and fine, nothing left to chance. Wrapped by layers, but when naked, reveals pureness of utmost simplicity.

Now available at these Makati malls
Rockwell Power Plant
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An Anti-Oxidant Rich Breakfast[ARF/5-A-Day Tuesday #3]

I came across Nupur's entry to ARF (Anti-Oxidant Rich Food)/5-A-Day Tuesday #2 last week at One Hot Stove, and I thought, well, that is one food blogging event I definitely would want to join. As it turns out, after looking up the top 20 anti-oxidant-rich foods and checking my stash of previously unpublished food photos, I've prepared and eaten numerous dishes that qualify for the event held every Tuesday, hosted by Sweetnicks.

My collection comprises mostly simple dishes, and I'll start with a very simple one for my first entry to ARF/5-A-Day Tuesdays, so-called because it strives to promote healthier eating by utilizing at least one of the anti-oxidant rich foods in a dish, or fulfilling the required five servings a day of fruit and vegetables. Filipino cuisine, and Asian cuisine in general, features fruits and vegetables on a daily basis, at least traditionally, and I grew up not with vegetables on the side but as a main feature.

Today I'd like to share a favorite breakfast fare, inspired by a dish done in a similar vein that I have eaten at The Swiss Baker cafe in Baguio City. This is so versatile that I eat it for dinner, too, especially when I'm trying to lose weight. It is just diced gala apples, banana slices and strawberry halves tossed with cottage cheese. I love this with fresh blueberries, which also add a nice color, but they're not in season now, so I made up for that with some slices of a blueberry cream cheese loaf made by a local bakeshop called Uncle George (products available at Tiendesitas).

This alone already contains three fruits from the top 20 ARF list, although I'm not sure if baking into bread retains the blueberries' anti-oxidant properties, and, for that matter, if fresh blueberries were actually used. But to add more to the anti-ageing properties of my breakfast I made strawberry lassi. Boo_licious of Masak-Masak has posted about mango lassis and chiku lassis and I have made them myself, but strawberries are in season now, so I tried them in combination with yoghurt and crushed ice.

A perfectly healthy meal to start the day. Quite tasty and refreshing, too, and rounds up the entire food pyramid, with the bread for carbohydrates and the cheese and yoghurt for protein requirements.

Tomato Mozzarella Roll

This innovative and quite refreshing roll was part of the cocktail spread during Citigroup Philippines' customer appreciation party on the evening of lucky Friday the 13th, at the renowned Top of the Citi.

The roll consists of a spike of tomato amidst green ice lettuce with a drizzling of olive oil and balsamic vinegar, then wrapped by a thin slice of mozzarella. Handy salad, for which I happily went back to the buffet table again and again. It is a nice idea to do for a party at home, as an alternative to salad sticks.

The rest of the spread consisted of adobo in profiteroles - using tender chicken adobo flakes with a drizzling of adobo sauce (soy sauce and vinegar cooked to thickness), pasta pomodoro with crunchy prosciutto, chicken yakitori, fish fingers in cream of tartar sauce - breaded slivers of fish which were delicious when crispy hot and just off the pan, vegetable bruschetta, chicken a la calf - from the looks and texture of it, probably young chicken steamed or baked and stripped of skin, and pritchon - deep-fried suckling pig served like a peking duck, layers of a stalk of spring onion, crackling skin and meat smothered with your choice of spicy or sweet sauce and/or sour cream and garlic, all wrapped in a triangular tortilla. Very savory, but seriously artery-clogging, so I didn't opt for a second serving.

All of course catered by the Le Soufflé chefs at Top of the Citi. The bar had stocks of overflowing Chilean red wine, iced tea, dalandan juice. Specially featured was Ellie's roasted calf, which was chopped up, skin and meat in separate trays. Mocha with Spin Art band provided the entertainment. She is quite a figure, this Mocha, with a nice, powerful voice, but that night she was glistening with sweat from the faux fur midriff sweater she was wearing, despite her low-riding skimpily short shorts.

Top of the Citi is open Mondays to Fridays, 7AM to 9PM, but is only accesible to non-Citibank employees and guests in the evenings, with reservation required. It is at the 34/F of the Citibank Tower, literally on top of Citibank along Paseo de Roxas in Makati City, with customer parking in front of the tower entrance.

It is where the hubby and I go for dinner for special occasions, but I sometimes get lucky with an invitation for lunch. I love their version of crepe samurai - served soufflé style, and the specialty adobo plate - boneless chicken in adobo sauce with a salad of lettuce, onions and tomatoes in vinaigrette, and boiled egg slices, which I heard was a winning entry in a celebrated international cookfest. Most entreés liberally sport chopped bacon and that crispy prosciutto, too much for comfort, at least for me, but that doesn't keep me from coming back, once in a while. I just learned to avoid those dishes screaming bad cholesterol.

The Friends Who Are Great Italian Cooks

Amici's Pasta Montanara

When the agency I work for celebrates its foundation anniversary, the close to two thousand employees are treated to lunch. In the past, boxes upon boxes of a packed lunch, usually from Max's or some other, quasi-fastfood dining outlet near the agency's head office, arrive for distribution after the thanksgiving mass and a short program.

For the last several years, though, this practice has been replaced by a meal subsidy. So employees now have leeway in choosing where to eat the anniversary meal, and in the process also have the choice between lunch and dinner, or maybe even breakfast, as long as the required official receipt of a meal is dated on the anniversary date.

Several days ago, the agency marked its 59th year of existence, with unprecendented performance for the last year. Despite this achievement, the meal subsidy has not increased, and, although I and my colleagues were willing to fork over our own money, it could not even cover a decent main course in an upscale restaurant. Be it so, we were left with the more than happy choice of heading to our favorite Italian cafeteria.

And might I add, a local Italian cafeteria serving the closest authentic Italian fare one could get hereabouts. With the price of a homecooked meal. Of course it's self-service, you have to share tables as it's full-packed most of the time, it's only fan-cooled, and there is no ample parking.

But who cares about ambience and other fine-dining trappings when you can have 12" original Italian pizzas for Php240, authentic Italian pastas at Php130-170, turo-turo (smorgasboard) choices (LARGE plates, good enough for two, even three) all at Php150 with rice, and best of all, two scoops of gelato for a measly Php35? I'll be glad to walk from high-end Greenbelt 4 to Pasong Tamo even on a sweltering noontime, just for one of the above.

Amici di Don Bosco has separate counters for ordering pizza and pasta, with a mouth-watering display counter of numerous gelato flavors in the pizza ordering counter. You snatch separate paper print-outs of pizza and pasta choices and line-up for the counter. Service is fairly fast, with pizza orders the longest at 15 minutes, but the pizza comes to your table oven-fresh, dripping with melted mozzarella and herbs. There are 25 pizza flavors, with the al 4 formaggi (four cheese - mozzarella, taleggio, parmesan, brie) still quite the bestseller.

Frutti Di Mare

The cannelloni agli spinaci, baked cannelloni stuffed with spinach and cheese topped with bechamel and parmesan cheese, and the lasagne al forno are both bestsellers, and are always available in the glass showcase in the pasta counter. They are always ordered by my colleagues, with pasta alla pescatora (spaghetti with seafood sauce) coming in a close second.

Cannelloni Agli Spinaci

One time a friend and I chanced upon a nearly demolished dish of pasta montanara (spinach fusilli with sausage, bell pepper, cheese sauce, pepperoni and salami) on the counter. It looked so good I had no second thought in ordering it, which thankfully relieved me of my usual endless pondering on which to try this time, which one to reserve for next time. It was the best, nano-second decision I've made in my entire life, to date.

Brimming with juicy Italian sausage in a tomato sauce enhanced by the cheese and roasted bell peppers, full of contrasting textures and complementary flavors, that in a few minutes we were sopping up the left-over sauce on the plate with the accompanying slice of soft bread generously spread with butter. Well, the soft bread may not be authentically Italian, but I didn't mind - I like to have a break from gum-injuring crusty breads with my pasta sometimes. That's French, I believe, anyway.

There are also 25 choices for pasta sauces using various kinds of pasta, plus three kinds of soup - minestrone, tortellini in brodo (stuffed pasta in chicken broth with parmesan), and cream & mushroom soup. There is also a cheese platter (parmesan, pecorino, fontina and local cheeses) and a salami plate (milano, parma, calabrese, bacon, etc.).

A rosemary-crusted, tender-roasted half-chicken is also always available at the pasta counter, which comes with boiled potatoes and green beans. Flaky-soft and moist, and comes with its own drippings. No other oven-roasted chicken comes close. Even better than our own Filipino lechon manok.

Most of us on our anniversary meal decided to try the smorgasboard. We came back to our table with heaps upon heaps of food, realizing late that at least two should have shared one order.

I got the chicken, which came with rice but with no vegetables, so I got a salad of fruits in syrup to go with it, as I am uncomfortable eating meat by itself. I brought home the left-overs (about 3/4 of the entire serving), and they were even more delicious heated up the next day.

There are many choices in the turo-turo, and the Filipino dishes come first along the line, like adobong pusit, fish steaks, beefsteak, dinuguan, nilaga, sinigang, with international dishes coming last, like hefty crabcakes with steamed vegetables, roast beef, beef stew. I look forward to trying the herb-crusted Italian sausages on my next visit. On the cashier counter are baked potatoes, fresh greens, fruits in syrup and with cream, all for Php50 per supersized serving.

And the gelato? All I can say is, I always leave enough room for the gelato. Because there are numerous flavors to choose from, and I want to try them all. It is always a good thing to eat at Amici in large groups, so you can sample all the others' orders. Of course, you are allowed to order more than one. And with the price, three orders of three flavors is still dirt cheap.

Pistacchio is the bestseller by far, according to the lady manning the gelato counter. The crocantino (rhum and nuts) is spectacular, and so are the vanilla and hazelnut flavors, my two favorites. Strawberry, too, and blueberry, and cherry. . . .Bulk purchase is available, at Php400-500 per 1.6kg container.

Apart from sweets that appear from time to time, like Gianduia bread and chocolate bars (no panettone, though, last Christmas), Amici di Don Bosco also bakes bread for sale, and they produce the cheapest ensaymada (6 pieces at Php50) which is good enough to rival the most expensive chichi-produced ones. Everytime we eat at Amici we always notice skyscrapers of previously ordered ensaymada being picked up. There is a green-hued pistacchio bread that is really nutty and softly fluffy, and a rustic bread and some cream puffs (not in photo) which I have yet to try.

From an ordinary, once-exclusive canteen for Don Bosco and its students serving great Italian fare that, because of great clamor from those who had been privileged enough to sample it, was good enough for a full-scale restaurant, Amici di Don Bosco even operates an Advanced School of Cooking. In fact, a six-hour Italian pasta sauce cooking lesson with Chef Giorgio Bucciarelli is scheduled tomorrow, Jan. 14, 10AM-5PM, while a pizza-making course is scheduled for next Saturday, Jan. 21. Similar courses are intermittently held throughout the year. Cookbooks are also available, published by the printing press next door, Salesiana Publishers, Inc.

Of course, an agency anniversary was just a handy excuse to eat again at Amici. We're looking for another one. Probably when our receipts had been reimbursed.

Amici di Don Bosco
Arnaiz Avenue corner Chino Roces Avenue (Pasay Road corner Pasong Tamo)
Makati City

Operating Hours:
10AM-9PM, Monday to Sundays
Tel. No. (632) 8938915

Now delivers! 8184444

Tomas Morato branch:
243 Bellagio Bldg., Fuentebella Street
Tomas Morato, Quezon City

Sugus and Other Portuguese & Dutch Treats

I had tootsie rolls. Now I've got Sugus and I'm really such a lucky girl!

When I started this blog I never knew what such nice treats awaited me - meeting new friends, albeit only virtually speaking, who prove to be so generous and oh-so-passionate about food; new recipes and new twists on old recipes; knowing about new food trends; learning more about my food culture as well as being introduced to many food cultures around the world; and, not least speaking, taking all these from the virtual, electronic world into the real one, via meets and food packages.

The last one, needless to say, have proved to be very exciting, and I feel so blessed on my part, having received generous and tasty gifts from New York, Paris and Napa, Valley, California for the Blogging By Mail series conceived and launched by Nic at bakingsheet, and a food exchange among readers of Chocolate and Zucchini. For the last quarter of 2005, every month I got food care packages from around the world.

This year came with an auspicious start. Just a few days into 2006 I got a new food package, this time from The Netherlands, and it contained a childhood sweet which I have a fondness for but which is not sold in the Philippines anymore. I wrote about missing it in a forum at C&Z, and Swan in Netherlands reacted that she knew the fruity, chewy candies and that it is sold in Portugal. Swan lives in Netherlands, but takes summer vacations in Portugal, and promised to procure some for me.

And so now I have my Sugus - I tried all the flavors at once on the evening I brought them home, such harried frenzy coming partly from the longing I've developed over the years, not once appeased by hard Fruitella, and partly because my preschooler has come to anticipate such nice treats from the packages his mom brings home, and so has become very adept at swiping things, candies most especially.

But what bliss. The Sugus are as I remember them. Mild fruity flavors of strawberry, lemon, orange and lime, not so sweet, such joy to bite into. They brought me back to the carefree past when life was simple and a piece of fruity candy was enough to emboss a lasting smile on my face, and in my heart. During the time when all the people I first loved were still here with me. Thank you, Swan, for that, and for the opportunity to share a piece of my childhood with my son.

But I fear I'm doing a grave injustice to the package by highlighting the candy, because Swan sent a motley of other Portuguese treats and holiday specials from Holland, in a stocking (she wrote a note on a card with a picture of a red Christmas stocking), with apparent love and care and which deserve more than enough praise.

First off is a very fragrant box of a mix for Speculaas, a Dutch specialty spiced biscuit which can be made on its own or with an almond paste filling. In Holland it is molded in various shapes and figures, notably bibilical scenes, windmills or an old Dutch farmer. Speculaas dates back to medieval times, and is traditionally associated with the feast of Sinterklaas, Saint Nicholas from whom Santa Claus probably evolved, celebrated on the 5th of December. The box is labeled in Dutch, but Swan thoughtfully wrote out two recipes in English. I'm raring to make some - the smell emanating from the package is making me drool.

There is a collection of old-fashioned hard candies - cinnamon pillows, mint pillows, pear drops, boterbabbelaars (a kind of butter caramel candies), licorice, and others. And of course a big bar of Dutch chocolate! Then there is a a box of anti-oxidant-rich African Summer Rooibos (Red Bush) tea, which was first introduced to me via Dev's package from New York. I loved it so much that now I'm so happy I have a whole box of them from Swan. She also included a Delft Blauw (Blue) tile, a sought-after and historically precious product of Holland, decorated with a windmill and made into a refrigerator magnet.

The rest of the Portuguese loot consists of various paté - atum (tuna), sardinha (sardines), and several packets of camarao (shrimps). All in all a very special and well-thought-of care package. Extremely appreciated, Swan, from a person you made especially delighted. I will try to appropriate each item to make them last a little longer. Except, of course, for the Sugus.

Aligue Palabok

I still had a couple of bottles of aligue (fat and meat of kape or shore crabs) left over from Flynn's birthday party, during which I served linguini with aligue sauce. I had been reserving them, plus a subsequent purchase of a can of Razon's aligue, to flavor a palabok sauce to give it a new twist.

I had been toying with the idea of a pancit palabok as birthday noodles for some time. To give a fresh dimension to the pancit served in birthday parties. Pancit palabok is not commonly served as birthday noodles. Actually, pancit palabok is not commonly served in my part of the country. The preparation is seen as too laborious.

The perfect chance for my laborious-loving self came when my baby girl turned one last week, and her dad wanted to throw a children's party. I thought a kiddie birthday party was a good venue for serving pancit palabok - my three-year old son (not counting his dad and mom) adores Jollibee's pancit palabok, more than spaghetti. Surely, thin noodles smothered with a thick sauce would appeal to kids, of all ages.

But in truth, I had a score to settle with pancit palabok. The one and only disaster my brother and I came up with while preparing our family Christmas feasts over the years involved this dish. That time, many Christmases ago, our youngest brother was the one who bought a kilogram of fresh squid for mixing in the sauce. He came home with a foul-smelling pack, which he proceeded to clean. When we mixed it in, the palabok sauce turned black as midnight, like it knew it was going to be served for noche buena, appropriately at midnight. Like a black joke.

We had no choice then, but continued the cooking. We had planned the menu months ahead, and we had not counted on something going seriously wrong. We mixed in the sauce and the other ingredients with the noodles, probably hoping it would change color, but no, it remained black, blacker than mud, and we then had a black, foul-smelling mass instead of a nice, orangey, aromatic pancit.

If I knew then that I would be running a food blog someday I would have taken a photo for posterity. But all I have now is the memory of that night - we were all howling with laughter, poking fun at the palabok negra, as we came to call it, and which was left in all its dark splendor on the noche buena table, nobody daring to touch it. We conveniently forgot about the rest of the sauce fo days, and when I happened to open the pot it was sitting in, I saw the sauce had turned green. A green palabok is worse than a black palabok, and we kids fought over who was going to throw it out and clean the pot.

This incident became the "sure-fire-anecdote-to-get-a-laugh" for many a years to come, especially during subsequent noche buenas. Needless to say, we never cooked pancit palabok again.

Until last week. And this time I was avenged. I had a very orangey sauce, helped in part by the hue of the aligue (Navarro's is bright orange, Razon's is pale), and in part by some powdered achuete. I still put in fresh squid, which I bought myself and cooked prior to mixing in the sauce, to be sure. I skipped the shrimps, though, since the aligue more than made the palabok rich enough.

Two big bottles and a small can of aligue (approximately 600 mL), with water added and thickened by cornstarch, made sauce good for about two kilos of bihon, or what is called elsewhere as stick noodles. The left-overs we had for New Year's day brunch.

I also tried using a kind of flat rice noodles that looked like linguini, labeled yang chun noodles, bought at the Asian section of the Market!Market! grocery. As with the pasta with aligue sauce, I wanted to use a thicker kind of noodle as a foil to the richness of the aligue palabok sauce. The resulting pancit was great, and it was well-received. I didn't have any kind of food coloring at the time, and used Razon's aligue solely, so the sauce came out very pale. It belied its taste, though -it very tasty and alive with flavor.