manila: shopping at cardinal ceramics.

ornaments

miss gail once asked me where i find my dishes--of which you've noticed i've an abundance--so i thought i'd let you know about one of my favourite crack dens: cardinal ceramics factory store, tucked in a mostly residential neighbourhood in makati, around the corner from the national shrine of the sacred heart. more of a shop of overruns than defective/rejected pieces, it is a hidden gem for bargain ceramic, porcelain and stoneware dishes.

cardinal is a local company of fascinating origins and with an interesting history that manufactures wares for international companies like dansk, villeroy and boch, lennox, various house brands (last time i was there, i found a whole line of habitat products), and my personal favourite, restaurantware for hotels (circles at the shang commissioned some very nice pieces, and i just found some crazy random pieces for lawry's prime rib restos).


click on each pic for details

prices are reasonable to downright cheap during sales. it's a nice place to stock up on basic whites, and they always have an abundance of various leaf patterned plates (banana is the most common, but lotus and gingko appear regularly), but they also have provincial styles (both european and asian), and unusual pieces (my neighbour covets white porcelain hanging pendant light fixtures, similar to those you can just make out here). if you are lucky, you'll catch the wares at the end of a firing run and pick up some of the more exclusive pieces. i don't know exactly what their schedule is, but a reliable source tells me i should make some time available at the end of march if i want my table settings to match those of a international "hip" boutique hotel chain's restaurants. stay tuned.


i'm contemplating buying some of this line, what do you think?



cardinal ceramics
SACAP bldg
121 dao street
san antonio village
makati
632.816.1983

good fortune

kiat kiat (mandarin orange) trees decorated with ampao, red packets filled with money. orange trees are considered good fortune symbols in the lunar new year, as the colour is similar to gold. from the saturday market at salcedo village, makati.

manila: breakfast at museum café.

oh weee remember i had dinner here a few months back? the museum café (m café to one and all), is across the breezeway from the ayala museum in the greenbelt complex, and right smack in the thick of makati traffic, but you'd never know it. ah, how i love urban planning that works. even though it borders a busy avenue, the park beyond is the main focus (although there is a rather lovely view of the museum), and at almost any time of the day, a sort of housey jazz accompanies the breezy atmosphere with bamboo thickets and shady trees filled with capiz lanterns swinging gently around and overhead. i'm completely romanticizing things, i know, but sometimes i am just happy to pretend, and even happier when it's made easy to pretend. so yes, it may be overrated, and expensive, but i like the unobtrusive service, some of the food, and of course, the great location. anyway, how bad could they f**k up a pancake?



we sat outside, and started off with a cuppa coffee--which was lovely, smooth, not packing a big punch--then took joey's advice and ordered the m benedict: two poached eggs, chinese ham and grilled fresh asparagus on linseed toast with a hollandaise sauce. i asked the waiter if i should pay the extra and go for the smoked salmon, and he almost immediately said no. i don't know if it wasn't to his taste or if he just didn't think it was worth it, but i was pretty happy with my choice. the eggs were overcooked, the asparagus was not, and although the hollandaise looked oily, it actually wasn't (i think the dish was broiled a bit before serving). linseeds, what are linseeds, i associate them with laxatives and furniture finishing, but the bread was nice--slightly nutty, sweet, and light. overall, it was the lightest benedict i'd ever had, i didn't feel like i needed a nap afterwards. ms. p had the pancakes with fresh mango and maple syrup, and huzzah! they were fluffy, light, and absolutely did not intrude on the mangoliciousness of the fresh fruit. we also split a generous bowl of fresh fruit--local watermelon, bananas, and mango with granny smith apples from...somewhere--which were served on a bed of ice chips that kept the fruit crisp and cool throughout our meal.

overall, i thought it was a success. the atmosphere is so relaxing, and the food tasty enough, without being stodgy or leaden. the menu is rather eclectic--you'll find western standards (eggs, pancakes, waffles, bacon), pinoy standards (tocino, longganisa, bangus), some asian specialties (green curry, char siu), and a quite a few interesting combinations: longganisa (sweet, spicy sausage) and quesong puti (native white cheese) omelettes, thai chicken omelettes, peanut butter and banana waffles...okay, that's not interesting, but it's good. satisfying, yet leaves you room to eat more later. sooner than you think.



museum (m) café
ayala museum, greenbelt
makati ave (cor. dela rosa street)
757.3000/757.6000

10 things i hate about you. no, wait.

my kitchen. see kitchen confession, nos.3-4. click on the pic for a billion notes on what you see.

i've been tagged by vivilicious, tokyoastrogirl, and squeezeweasel; since it is either the start of a new year, or the end of an old one, will try to oblige. i've decided to combine the too much information meme and the cold remedies meme into one big ole me me fest, so here you go!

1-2. when i get drunk i don't get silly, crazy, morose, or belligerent. i drink, then i drink a lot more, i almost immediately get a headache, and then it passes. (kevin the scottish doctor says it has something to do with having particularly active enzymes.) the last time i got anything close to stonkingly drunk was in my university days; i had a bad cold, the start of an even worse 'flu, so i made a hot toddy out of the juice of one lemon, 1/3 cup of hot water, and the closest thing i could find to whisky--100-proof southern comfort. drank it down, felt incredibly tingly, then numb, then really numb, then sick. really sick. sick as a dog, sick as nancy spungen, sick as watching the movie "hostel" sick. jackson pollock would've loved the patterns on the bathroom floor. i then rolled into a fetal position, asked my roommate to kill me, and passed out. i really hate to tell you this, but in the morning, i felt absolutely, unbelievably faaaabulous--clear sinuses for the first time in a week, throat blisters gone, fresh as a flippin' daisy. as a cold remedy, it was one of the best i'd ever had, but i'm not sure if the remedy is the hot toddy or being violently ill. i don't recommend either.

3-4. i designed my kitchen. i hate cooking in it, avoid it as much as possible, and cook in other people's kitchens whenever i can.

5-6. i am 5'9". my favourite pair of shoes have 3 1/2" heels. i like being over 6 feet tall, i like the air up there. my friend cyrano (6'2") finds it very, very disconcerting.

7-8. i once had a notorious murderer sit on my lap; he was very sweet to me. i once mistook a major film actress for a prostitute, and had a fantastic conversation; i probably treated her much better than i would've had i realized who she was.

9-10. i'm going to manila for chinese new year so i'll see you after that. i have no idea whom to tag, but i'd really, really like to hear something from the boys.

caramelized oatmeal ice cream with whisky and raspberries, whee.

sadly--and i mean extremely so--i know more about pete burns than i do about robert burns (in my defense, "you spin me round" is a lot easier to understand than "auld lang syne"). however, i do have a soft spot for scotland (literally--i fell down a flight of stairs in edinburgh and i doubt i've ever fully recovered), and as january 25th is the bard's birthday (rabbie, not pete), i thought i would provide a recipe for anyone oot there who is planning on celebrating burns night. no, not haggis--which i don't have a problem with, by the way--but instead a dessert based on the traditional cranachan, which is double cream folded in with whisky and oats. my version has caramelized toasted oats and a verrrrra nice whisky folded into vanilla ice cream, and served with a raspberry sauce and a shard of caramelized oatmeal brittle made from the same stuff as the oats folded into the ice cream (shades of el lissitzky via franz ferdinand in the plating). i used a good quality store-bought ice cream, but feel free to bust out your ice cream makers, as most commercial brands are a bit too sweet for this recipe.

to pieman, bramble and p, melissa, pille, malcolm, judith, lisle, stephen, all the michaels and mikes, andrew, and all scots--honorary or otherwise--and of course, mr. burns and his much maligned haggis: i raise my glass to you. sláinte.


caramelized oatie ice cream


for the caramelized oatmeal and garnish:
1/2 to 2/3 cup scottish (or pinhead/steel-cut/coarse) oatmeal (i used this brand)
1 1/2 cups granulated white sugar
1 cup water

for the raspberry sauce**:
2 cups frozen raspberries
2 tbsp sugar
**(i highly recommend, however, that if you have fresh raspberries, use those as a garnish and skip this sauce)

1 gallon high-quality vanilla ice cream, slightly softened (or make your own with a reduced amount of sugar)
a good quality whisky, to taste (i used 1/4 cup but you might want to use less--be careful using more as it will hamper re-freezing efforts)


toast the oatmeal in a dry skillet over moderate to high heat, swirling occasionally, until golden. this will take anywhere from 10 to 15 minutes. be careful not to burn the oats. set aside.

make the caramel by placing the sugar and water in a medium saucepan, and oddly enough, like the oatmeal, cook over moderate heat and swirl occasionally, until it has turned into a golden syrup, about 12 to 15 minutes.

add the oats to the caramel, and spread onto a silpat-covered baking sheet (or oiled/buttered baking sheet). use an oiled heat-resistant flat spatula to help spread out the oats as thin as you can manage. while the caramel is still warm, cut out shapes for the garnish with an oiled, sharp knife (or just break off chunks later when it has completely cooled) and set aside. allow the remaining oat mixture to cool, then place into a plastic zippy type bag and bash about with a rolling pin to break up the oaties into somewhat fine nuggets.

fold the oatie nuggets and whisky into the ice cream, and refreeze in molds or in a container so it can be scooped out later. i recommend doing this no more than 24 (oh ok, 48) hours ahead of serving, as the oats will get soggy.

make the raspberry sauce by cooking down the raspberries and sugar in a medium saucepan over moderate heat (do you sense a theme?), mushing them slightly as you go, about 7 to 10 minutes. run through a sieve, but add back a bit of the pulp for texture. keep in refrigerator until ready to serve.

garnish as desired.

petite violette

for my first dessert made for the new year, i wanted to make something special, something that might set the tone for how my baking goes for the rest of year-- something different, yet familiar, adventurous, but classic. the last time i was at bizu in manila, i had a pastry called violette, which was their take on the classic french dessert mont blanc aux marrons. instead of using marrons, or chestnuts, the bizu version used the local purple yam, or ube, on top of an almond flavoured shortcrust base and some pastry cream. i have to say, i was somewhat disappointed with their version, as it fell short of my expectations.

i did realize it was because i am not really a big fan of ube anyway. my grand aunt, apong iska, used to make ube jam, or halaya, that was simply a mix of the purple yam, sugar, cream and butter, but it was such a superior product, that it was the only ube i would eat. i was not the only person who thought it was very good--her halaya was the original tantamco's brand ube jam from baguio, and was highly regarded by many. when she died, the quality of all their products suffered, and i haven't really enjoyed halaya since then. time has passed, though, and my dad recently brought back a big jar of ube jam from baguio, made at the good shepherd convent (market man mentions it in his informative ube jam post). i took a tentative bite, and wasn't completely bowled over by it, but it was much better than most i'd tried in the passing years.

since i had such a big jar, i thought i would make my own version of the bizu dessert. i used miss chika's mont blanc instructions as a guide, but assembled it as follows: i blind-baked simple shortcrust tartlet shells (i used the dough from my pecan tartlet recipe), then piped in a generous amount of whipped cream flavoured with a touch of almond extract and folded into some of the halaya, then finally crowning the whole thing with squiggles of unadulterated halaya. i tried dusting them with some confectioner's sugar to emulate a white-capped mountain, but the sugar dissolved. i guess that like the mountains in the philippines, it's a little too warm for snow.

seared citrus-miso marinated scallops

seared citrus-miso marinated scallops, served on a bed of steamed black sticky rice. i found some yuzu-flavoured miso at the market, and didn't really know what to do with it, so i poked the web a bit, found an interesting scallop recipe on leite's culinaria, and improvised a marinade with what was on hand: a halfa cuppa yuzu miso or so, a few tablespoonfuls of bottled ponzu, a dash of sea salt. mixed, poured onto scallops, left them gazing at navel oranges in the fridge for a few hours. seared quickly, quickly, about one and a half, two minutes per side. added the black sticky rice because there's only red or black rice in the house right now and red seemed wrong. i'd never used black glutinous rice in a savoury recipe before, but was quite pleased with its nuttiness combined with slight citrus tang, the mellow misoeyness (i have no idea how to describe the taste of miso, or maybe i'm just too lazy), and the natural sweetness of the scallops. there's only so much sticky rice i can eat in one sitting, so it was more of a starter than a meal. a rather indulgent one at that.

the seven herbs of spring

it's beginning to look a lot like spring here on the island. how can i tell? two less days of rain a week, and sunrises come about six to seven minutes before six a.m. not after; sunsets are six or seven minutes after six p.m., not before. ah, yes, life on the equator or thereabouts.

i was foraging at my local japanese market, and came across a plastic packet simply labelled "eatibile herbs" containing a bunch of greens and some baby radish and a teeny tiny turnip. i picked one up, hoping i'd figure out what to do with it later. i found out their significance as nanakusa on amy's blog, a day too late. japanese tradition calls for one to eat nanakusa-gayu, a rice porridge mixed with nanakusa, the seven herbs of spring, on the seventh day of the year to help ward off evil spirits and promote good health and longevity. with the "interesting" year i'm having (as in the chinese saying "may you live in interesting times"--a threat if i ever heard one), i calculated that it was morning of the previous day in albania, so i could follow the tradition, even if it really wasn't my own, and hopefully reap the benefits. yes, yes, i know. my naturally superstitious nature is rearing its suspicious head, but having just heard that one of my uncles was visited last night by one of my other uncles (who died two years ago), and that my previously drop dead gorgeous aunt presently just dropped dead--i'm not taking any chances.



i followed amy's recipe from the previous year, and included the optional eggs. i found it to be rather simple and elegant tasting--a very clean rice-iness, a bit of saltiness, and indefinable herbiness that seemed more "green" than anything else. although i have been eating quite healthfully these days, this also felt quite cleansing, which perhaps is something i need. wipe the slate and start anew. look forward to the spring.

the cow that laughs last

...laughs best.
...didn't get the joke.
...probably just realized the joke was on him and is seriously pissed off.
...is the last one eaten.

>sigh< i'm tryin' here, people!

this is mainly because of discussion from the holidays, and because it's kinda pretty. la vache qui rit/the laughing cow "party cubes". because even soft cheeselike products need to celebrate every now and again. i have never been a big fan of laughing cow products, but neither have i shunned them. however, i have always been more in favour of the little foil wrapped cubes over the wedges, mainly because there's only so much cheese i can take, and because as i child i thought of them as being a rawther glamoo sort of party cocktail food. today i think "who the **** has laughing cow party cubes at their party and do they find little bits of foil and red plastic string shoved down into their sofa cushions weeks later?" however, the powers that be seem to be playing into my childhood notion as now the cubes come in some fairly funky flavours: bleu cheese (blue), green peppercorn (green), french onion (orange), smoked ham (pink), sundried tomato (red), mushroom (brown). maybe not so much funky as seventies throwback, but which passes, passed for funky. in 2002-2003. note, too, the jordi labanda-esque illos on the tiny squares. also quelle funky in 2002-2003. however, i give the cow people an allowance, as the packaging really did draw my eye to it, i do buy it on a fairly regular basis. if i think about it the cow people actually were quite smart about this as it appeals to an interesting cross-section of consumers: those who are fascinated by interesting packaging (me), those drawn to shiny objects (me), those who have a penchant for "old school"/retro foods (me again), those who think smart and shiny packaging somehow equals smart and shiny life (okay, me, but only on bad days), those on the south beach diet (apparently the cow is an officially sanctioned snack), those who pretend to be on the south beach diet (these are full-fat cubes and therefore verboten), those who think that smaller cubes equal smaller consumption (ha!). the list goes on. as does the cow's laugh.

i still think jordi labanda has a lot to answer for, though.

"an exceptionally bad start"

bridget got that one right. restraining order, bomb threat, evacuation, false alarm (possible amateur porn with rubber gloves, eyyuuuuew), 'flu, food poisoning, familial spats #100,005-#100,012, icy stares, silent treatment, trangressions, accusations, earthquakes for two days. par, par, bogey, bogey, par, par. all a part of the holiday season in the santos household, i s'pose.

new year's day osechi--traditional japanese new year's day food meant to celebrate health, happiness, and good harvest. clockwise, from top left: tazukuri-teriyaki dried small sardines, date-maki-sweet omelet roll, radish pickle, kuro-mame-sweetened black beans, kazunoko-herring roe, nimono-simmered gobo(burdock root), carrots, lotus and taro, tamago-another sweet omelet, pink and white kamaboko-fish cake, and i don't know what those things that look like cherries are, because they're not cherries. ooh, wait, marzipan cherries. generally, the food is served in a four-tiered lacquered box, known as a jubako, but if you are lucky or patient, someone will have made most of your osechi at home, with a gorgeous presentation. i picked this up at my local japanese deli.

this was my first time to buy a jubako (mine is made from plastic and styrofoam), but i was familiar with most of the food items in the tray. everything tended to be sweet or salty, as traditionally the items were preserved with either salt or sugar or both, and were meant to be eaten throughout the day, so they had to have a certain amount of longevity. the only thing i hadn't had before was the date-maki, which was more like a castella sponge cake roll than an omelet, and the kazunoko. i nibbled a bit on the herring roe, but it was quite salty and fishy. and then i remembered it probably was in the box as a symbol of fertility, and being the >cough< merry spinster of the parish so to speak, i hastily removed it to the top of the "fortune" i received in a cookie: your mother is spreading vicious rumors about you. i'm sure the omelet rolls also symbolized fertility, but i liked them more. and i was hungry. scrambled eggs and french euphemisms be damned--i scarfed them down. the black beans looked like weird dyed favas but were creamy and sweet, the kamaboko chewy and sweet, the stewed root veggies earthy and you guessed it, sweet.

this was rather enjoyable, but now that i've seen other great, homemade, osechi dishes, i may have to try making them next year. maybe staying in the kitchen might be a good idea, anyway. i've got big knives in there.

winter wonderland.

felis añu nuebo para todos hamyo. happy new year, everybody!

blue christmas.

felis pasgua, ungil kurismas, neekiriisimas annim, maligayang pasko, mele kalikimaka, and merry, merry christmas to all of you from all of us on the happy isle of guam. thanks for coming by, thanks for all your kind words and support. may your lives be filled with love and laughter, may your days be merry and bright!

holiday rocky road brownie bites

deery is so cute and festive that even her crap comes out cute and festive (and wrapped to boot!)....

okay, i'm like, high on oven cleaner fumes. rocky road brownie bites, a recipe by gale gand. the only modification is that i pressed the marshmallow onto the top of the brownie immediately after baking them. the marshmallow softens a bit in the residual heat, adhering its spongy gooeyness to the chewy, nutty, chocolatey...deer crap. wow. i gotta lie down now.

pecan tartlets

something from santos claus: mini pecan tarts--tender, yet nutty and only a little sweet. no comparisons to my character, please (i believe i am more like a chicken pot pie laced with battery acid). these are very simple to make, cobbled together from recipes from my cousin tinette and non-cousin paula deen. almost any nut will work--i've done these with macadamias, casoy (cashews), walnuts, and almonds, with no complaints. quite impressive in taste and in appearance, and a welcome addition to any dessert plate.


pecan tartlets


crust:
1/2 cup butter, softened
1/2 cup sugar
1 egg
2 cups all purpose flour


filling:
2 tbsps butter, softened
1 1/2 cup brown sugar
2 eggs
2 tsp vanilla extract
1/4 tsp salt

a LOT of chopped nuts (about 2-2 1/2 cups)

preheat oven to 325˚F.

for the crust: cream the butter and sugar together until light and fluffy. incorporate egg, then flour. pinch off balls of dough and place into each mini-tart pan. form crust around sides with your fingertips--the thinner the better, but be careful not to have any holes or tears. set aside.

for the filling: cream butter and sugar together. incorporate eggs, and vanilla and salt.

fill uncooked crusts halfway with chopped nuts. using a squeezy bottle, fill each tart to the top with the butter/sugar mix. sprinkle more nuts on top. bake for 20 minutes until lightly golden. cool in pans before removing.

makes 48 mini tarts

giving martha's candy stripe cookie sticks a chance.

a few days ago, aun had a post extolling the wonders of martha stewart's baking handbook; as i commented there, i'm fascinated by her, i admire the accomplished staff that she has assembled, i've spent a lot of money on her products, but for me, her recipes suck. however, i seemed to be in the minority in that tiny forum; it was enough to make me think i should give another martha-approved recipe a try.

so, i picked up a copy of "martha stewart holiday cookies" magazine, and the one cookie that really caught my eye was the candy stripe cookie sticks. mostly because they are a good-looking cookie, but also because it's such an unwieldy name, although i personally can't come up with a nicer one.

it is basically a tuile recipe made into rectangles and then rolled into a cigar-shape. red batter is piped on before baking, which give the candy cane stripe. simple, really, just a little patience should do it. the batter is quite easy, and the directions clear enough. i cut out a template from a piece of cardboard, dug out the silpat sheet, and even found my offset spatula. preheated the oven. made the batter in just a few minutes. even managed to spread out the batter perfectly, and i only made two at time, as suggested.

fine. except not. i put the finely crafted first batch (omg, you should've seen the stripes on those! as close to perfect as i was going to get) into the 400˚f oven, and waited 8 minutes, like you do. and when i returned? smoking oven, with cookies the sort of tan the surgeon general told your gran to abandon in the seventies. not good. checked the oven. secondary thermometer said it was calibrated correctly, so i knocked down the temperature/time in various five degree/one minute increments. the result? a third of the batter wasted on unrollable cookies. i eventually settled on 380˚f for 5 minutes, although the cookie doesn't come out as dry as i think it should (however, it is infinitely easier to roll). also, the recipe says a tablespoonful of batter. that produced planks--it's more like 1/2-3/4ths of a tablespoon for a more manageable cookie. also, i used a standard small offset spatula, but it was slightly unwieldy for the prescribed size (3" x 6" rectangle) as it doesn't quite 'fit' as well as it could--perhaps another 1/8th-1/4th of an inch added to the width would make it easier for us mere mortals to make a smoother cookie with less fuss. and those stripes? let's not get into the ocd/meth hell that produced such perfection in the martha version. okay, back in the oven. five minutes later i learn there is a special tool that the recipe neglects to mention that is absolutely necessary: FINGERS LIKE ASBESTOS. THESE COOKIES ARE #$%^ING HOT!!! the recipe is correct in saying you really need to roll these immediately or fuggedaboudit. i found, however, that working directly on top of the oven on the ceramic cooktop helped keep the cookie pliable for a valuable five seconds more (if you have a separate or built in oven, roll them on the sheet you baked them on). rolling too tightly=bad. loosely=bad. rolling in a way that requires you to hold onto the burning cookie longer than you should=good.

actually, i sort of became determined to make it work. perhaps the spirit of cybill shepherd-as-martha was at work. and i think eventually, i got some nice cookies. but not nice enough. the worse thing? they were sort of boring tasting. anise or orange or >gasp!< maybe even peppermint so they'd be even more candy cane-like would have made them far more interesting.

clickety click tried them as well, and has a fantastic open letter to martha because of her trauma. so, sorry, martha. the recipes are still a no-go. i'm sticking to your hand towels for now.

that many?!

it was exactly a year ago when i decided to answer the question i originally asked myself: just how many asian women have food blogs anyway? this many! i originally found 50, and now the list is at 176, and growing every day.

if you haven't seen the list, take a look--perhaps you'll find a new favourite. if you've seen it before, check it again and visit one you've not read lately. if you know of any others out there, let me know! the more the merrier.

of tea parties past.

i went to an elementary school here on island that was run by an army colonel cum chaplain and his very flamboyant wife. they did, however, have gentility coursing through their blood, and enjoyed certain rituals from their deep southern roots. they would host a headmaster's tea at the beginning of every school year to introduce the staff to the students and their families, and another event in the springtime known as the table fashions tea, where groups would compete by creating unique tablesettings with various themes. needless to say, this was guam, not england nor even savannah, and the whole thing was orchestrated by a belle of the ball who was less scarlet o'hara than dolores del rio--all bright and floaty in her muu-muus and flip flops, always with a bright flower behind one ear--so propriety was relevant to island life amongst the new colonials in the seventies, which is to say not very proper at'all. the 'tea' was actually a punch made from fruit juice, lemon-lime soda, and scoops of neon-toxic coloured sherbet, the tables would be groaning with congealed salads topped by miniature multicoloured marshmallows, boxed mix brownies, and tea sandwiches involving all manners of things mixed in with creamed or cottage cheese. but any reason to break out a punch bowl and petit fours was reason enough.

when the colonel retired in the eighties, the teas disappeared, as did the need for petit fours and sandwich loaves. however, the old school bakeries remain, and although you might be hard pressed to find a baker who remembers how to make a petit four, no one bats an eye if you ask for a tea sandwich loaf, which is a pullman loaf of bread, sliced lengthwise; they are equally unfazed by any tinting requests you may have for the loaf, so bespoke sandwiches may match whatever theme that may strike your fancy. try asking for *that* at la brea bakery.



i often think my love of fanciful dishware and plates must come from my childhood teas experiences, which probably also fuels my penchant for fanciful tea foods. i like understated and elegant, sure, but there are days when only things in aspic, sugary divinity, or the jammiest bakewell tart with a crown of white icing and glacé cherry nipple will do.**

anyway, i have been on a one-person crusade to return such sartorial resplendence to the party table, and was asked to make some sandwiches for a holiday soirée. i probably won't be asked again, but despite the colours, the fillings were rather nice: egg with capers and a smoky spanish pimentón, turkey with a cranberry-pecan-orange zest cream cheese, and cured salmon with an herby cream cheese and cucumber. slightly more sophisticated than the kitchen sponge exterior would imply; if i win the approval of stomachs, perhaps i may win the eyes as well.



**speaking of childhood and cherry nipples on the cake, i'm watching late night reruns on the soap opera network--when did rick springfield return to 'general hospital'??

gingerbread

my holiday baking has begun with a bumper crop of gingerbread--somewhere between 10 to 12 pounds of it to be inexact. there's something quite festive about the sweetly lingering scent of ginger, cloves, and cinnamon, which remains, despite the fact that i finished baking the last batch almost two days ago. and yes, these gorgeous mahogany slabs are gifts for others, i don't plan on eating all of it, as that would be more disgusting than you can ever imagine. i know someone who can attest to this.

the recipe is from marion cunningham's "the breakfast book"; the last time i was in la, i spent an obscene amount of money buying a not obscene amount of gingerbread from whole foods (or whole paycheck, as the delightful food nerd calls it), and i was wondering how i was going to sate this growing addiction once i was back on the isle. i checked out the ingredients label, and found that their cake was made with oil, not butter, so i set my sights on finding the right recipe. rather fortuitously, the first book i reached for was the marion cunningham book, and i am almost convinced it is the exact recipe that the supermarket uses (at least in los angeles). it is light in texture, deep in flavour, moist, springy, fragrant, spicy and delicious, and will keep for days, provided you can keep your greedy mitts off of it.



having said that, of course i couldn't keep my grubby paws off the fresh from the oven cake, and snuck a square or two out for my own personal consumption. it is another bridget jones and i love it just as it is, but it is also quite lovely with whipped cream, either just lightly sweetened or with a scraping of vanilla bean, or boozed up with a wee dram of whisky, bourbon, or insert amber liquor of your choice. i, however, opted for what was on hand, and that was a malted ice cream, made with malt powder whisked into a vanilla ice cream base before freezing. i have to recommend, however, that guinness stout added instead will produce a superior, stupendous maltiness that would probably knock this gingerbread block out of the park and into the stratosphere. i used this recipe for both the malt powder and guinness versions, substituting the same amount of powder for the booze. try it sometime.

remembrance of meals past.

i found a few old photos the other day, and there were several taken with friends at mealtimes. what struck me the most about these photos is that then, i obviously didn't care about taking photos of the food because there aren't any, and now, i absolutely cannot remember what i ate at any of these meals. come to think of it, i rarely do remember the food even if it's exceptional, if i'm in particularly fine company.

the photo above is of breakfast at dean and deluca, in their first café on prince street in soho, new york city (less than two bucks for an iced coffee! eek, this is older than i thought). malcolm is a newlywed here, having just married a dear friend just days before. i barely knew him at this point, but as you can see, we were destined to get on famously--several cameras on the table (not including the one i took the photo with), several beverages each, and he is actually photographing the food, predating my interest in food photography by several years. every time i look at this photo, i recall the slight chill in the air of that april day, the sharp tang of the lemon cake i ate, that funny odorous mix of slightly decaying produce, strong coffee and sidewalk i associate with every soho in the world, and the instanteous feeling of ease when you meet someone new whom you know you will be friends with for a very long time.

even if he was mumbling somewhat incoherently with that scottish accent, ordered a middling blueberry muffin, and made me see "arachnophobia". in the theatres.

mozzarella en carrozza

a carrozza, in italian, is a carriage, and in this case, bread carries the softest, sweetest fresh mozzarella you can find, in this southern italian sandwich. all you need is white bread (any sort will do, even regular sandwich stuff), mozzarella (if you don't have fresh, this works well enough with the rubbery stuff--don't sweat it, sweetie), a little milk, flour, and egg. cut the crusts off the bread, and lay some slices of the cheese in the middle of bread, leaving a bit of space all around the edges. press the slices of bread together to hold the cheese in then dip both sides quickly into a shallow dish filled with milk, then dredge in another dish filled with flour, then finally in another dish with lightly beaten egg seasoned with a bit of salt and pepper. fry in a nice amount of olive oil until golden and melty and you can't stand it anymore and must consume.

"model mistakes block of cheese for cocaine"

quite possibly the food story of the year, at least for me. via the world of wonder.

i have so many one-liners<--(ha! i just caught that) for this (many involving kate moss), my fingertips can't keep up. i invite you to add yours to the comments below.

a nice day for aki matsuri.

i did things a little differently this year, and attended the annual autumn festival during the day, not at night, as in previous years. don't know what possessed me, but it was definitely a nice day for it.

the most noticeable difference was one: there weren't that many people in attendance, which was nice, and two: i wasn't very hungry, which was sort of annoying. i mean, 75% of the booths are food booths and 75% of the reason why i attend is to eat the food from the food booths, and if i'm not up for it, what am i going to do?

why, actually enjoy the games booths, displays, and performances. whoduthunkit?



that's not to say i didn't have some culinary treats, because when i say "not hungry" that doesn't mean "don't eat". of course, it should, but that's a whole discussion i'll save for someone else. the definite star of the day was the black sesame ice cream, which was creamy, light, and luscious. weirdly addictive, too.



also, the ice cream booth got major style points for being black and white, clean and crisp looking, with the most affable and cute servers (and chef!). buenas! y'all rocked the block.



you can find more food and festival photos in yet another flickr slideshow.

manila: buffet at circles café.

to tell you the truth, i'm not much for buffets. it's just an accepted form of greed and overindulgence over food that in retrospect, may not be all that good to begin with, and an open invitation for indigestion. even in really nice places, i always get suspicious over certain dishes on offer--why are there so many prawns? where's the sneeze guard for the salads? do they need to clear out the deep-freeze? what are they trying to hide under the velouté? how many people have double-dipped in the chocolate fountain?

however, i do see the usefulness of buffets. it's great for a large group of people who have no idea what they want to eat or have varied tastes, and often the atmosphere is rather casual and conducive towards conversation, even with people whom you don't have much in common--how's the beef? where'd you get that? do you like it? how many people are in line for tempura? it also offers convenient getaways once you realize you really don't care for your company--i need more dessert. it's time for the second round of entrees. don't talk to me, i'm eating. i can't talk to you, i've eaten too much and need to lie down under the table.

although we didn't celebrate thanksgiving, we did indulge in a celebratory feast by going to circles at the shangri-la hotel in makati. the shang is consistently rated as one of the top hotels in the city, and they had renovated their casual coffee shop/café sometime last year. i vaguely remember it as a tasteful but somewhat dull tropical-themed room with equally dull coffee shop food, but the new room is all dark wood, glass, and accent lights and orange accessories galore--clubby yet casual, slick yet inviting. of course, heavy on the circles theme, and lots of coordinating dishes and serviceware. the dish whore in me had a barbarella-meets-the-orgasmatron-like moment when i noticed all the appetizers and desserts in tiny, perfect portions in tiny, perfect porcelain, glass and ceramic plates, shot glasses, tiles, and tureens. soup spoons of half a cherry tomato with a dab of pesto and a single shaving of parmesan. a square shot glass of a saffron seafood creme. j's gorgeous tureens filled with savoury and sweet bread puddings. chocolate covered homemade marshmallows in a miniscule ceramic skillet. a saucer of single shot of almond gelatin, clinging gently to a whole lychee. to paraphrase meg ryan in "when harry met sally", this was me as i walked passed each food station, laden with all the service accoutrements: "yes. yes. YES, oh. my. god. YESSSSSS."


click on each square for details

the food has improved. i'm not entirely convinced that it's better than any of the quality establishments around town, but there are some definite strengths amongst the vast array of goods. of course, you'll just have to discover them for yourselves but personally, i found the appetizers lacking, the italian selections serviceable, the chinese/japanese/thai selections passable but unmemorable except for the roasted items and soups, which were very good. you could eat your weight in meat from the various carving stations, and die quite happily. there was also a good selection of vegetarian, vegan, and lowfat options. the desserts varied, but then again, were rather chocolate-centric, and i am not.


click on each square for details

so, my completely biased idea of what strengths circles buffet has: good selection of main dishes, well laid out food stations, attractive setting, attractive presentation, small portions of appetizers and desserts (they know you want to taste everything :)), food stays hot, rarely overcooked, high turnover/replenishment because it's so busy. plates are taken away in a timely fashion. staff is very courteous, helpful, and almost convivial.

what i didn't like: oy, people get pushy when they're hungry! appetizers not that thrilling despite presentation, serviceware/plates all at ankle level and blocked by lines of people, too many tables so it can be tricky maneuvering through a crowded room to your table if you are in the main room. however, the tables in the main room are better than the outlying tables. service staff has trouble keeping up with refilling drinks and taking requests at the table. you'll eat too much.



still, i'd go again, if i must buffet. the room and atmosphere are very nice, it's quite laid back and conducive towards lingering, yet still stylish enough with quality food to lend a sense of occasion if there for a celebration. most importantly, i can use up as many plates as i want and no one gets mad.



circles event café
shangri-la hotel, makati
ayala avenue, corner makati ave
840.0884

(reservations currently absolutely necessary!)

back to bizu-ness.

i went back to bizu, and picked up more of their lovely macarons. this season's specials: orange passion, with passionfruit and orange zest cream, and caramel passion, a lovely duotoned number of one chocolate macaron nestled up against a cocoa-speckled caramel one, sandwiching a caramel cream. mmmmm.

i may have left the states to avoid a day of overwhelming overeating and conspicuous consumption, but did i escape it? oh ho, oh no. you can never run away from such things, my bloggy friend, never.



i don't know what the holiday decorated cakes are, but they were quite festive. the others: samba--milk and dark chocolate mousse layered between chocolate cake, tiramisu--coffee liqueur layered between chocolate cake and mascarpone cheese, chocolat saint honoré--a pyramid of baby cream puffs filled with chocolate cream and dipped in dark chocolate.



fresh mango chiboust (french cheesecake), nirvana--chocolate caramel mousse with pistachio cream on choco biscuit thingy, and sophia--a sugarless chocolate/coffee/vanilla sponge/mascarpone confection.



if there could be a star, it might've been this: caramel saint honoré--cream puffs filled with pastry cream, dipped in caramel, on a bed of dark chocolate truffle cake.

did i consume all of these? no. did i consume more? maybe. am i hanging my head in shame? are you kidding?! just running around a track, just running.

oh, help. oh, joy!

in case you're in my house

i've lost my portable hard drive with the majority of my photo archive. if you could send good thoughts this way that i find it, and find it SOON, i will appreciate it greatly, put you in my good books forever, and dedicate the next batch of cupcakes to you.

update: still lost. i have, however, found:

my wallet (only missing for 6 months!)
my japanese pompom maker (japanese maker, not japanese pompoms)
40 skeins of yarn (now i can make a pompom hard drive)
a leprechaun with a missing hand (is this a bad sign?)

grrrr.

updated update: FOUND!!!! i couldn't have done it without you, thanks for all your great tips and good mojo. i have some cupcakes to bake and some plans to make, so thankyouthankyou THANK YOU!!!!! you rock, don't forget it.