On Me

            I am writing again with vigor that I am sure may only last for a little bit. Unsure of the outcome this story may provide, I still decide on expressing the feelings I have been having on and off for years now ever since my mother had passed away. No one is ever really sure about life and to those who may think they have their lives set on track, well, good for you but the mystery that life provides only makes one’s life even more interesting as the days push on and the nights fleet by. I decided to write this down to create an art, to create something that I haven’t in years that I have been too depressed to do anything for myself. Yes, I have created art before and written words that astound me as I read my blogs and poems all over again and trace back the events that had caused me to write and draw such beautiful pieces. I joined a blog site when I turned 18 that helped me get through my mother’s death through writing poetry and sharing my photos that expressed my inner doubts. I had created Picasso like scripts of work on hand made paper and sold few when I had turned 20. I had created photos that can illuminate the night and give warmth to a home when I had turned 22. I had created a food blog which I am not proud to say I haven’t updated in a while when I had turned 23. Now, writing this all down I am 24 and it has been 6 years and 4 months since my mother had left this earth. As I had said, I am unsure of what this outcome may stipulate and yet I know for sure that this will be about my many emotions through out my years as a daughter, orphaned, a sister flooded with responsibility, and a young woman who’s life is to concur the restaurant world little by little with a business so known to so many people that it overwhelms her. I am that woman with all these questions and answers and experiences and thoughts.

            On a date I can barely remember, I had stepped into my home from high school and was approached by my brother. He went up to me with a confused look and a little jumpiness in his movements. “Nanay has cancer,” he mentions in an abrupt and surprising manner. “Don’t joke like that!” That conversation-ended right there. That night, my Tita came over the house to talk to my brother and I. She sat us down and slowly brought us the news that what my brother had mentioned earlier was most definitely and unfortunately true. I didn’t know how to react, what to think or what to say. I felt like a shell—hallow, empty, and useless. What was I supposed to do with that information at 16 years old? Nothing, I couldn’t do anything. My mother was diagnosed with Stage 4 C Endometrial Cancer. I couldn’t understand at the time how and why she had gotten it. I never really thought that the lump that she had made me feel while we watched TV together one night would be the death of her. My brother and I visited her the next day at Notre Dame Hospital. She looked fine! Yes she had an Intra Venous dextrose attached to her hand, but nevertheless, she looked fine to me. How could a woman so healthy looking, laughing, and chatting be dying of cancer. I couldn’t believe it. My brother barged in as usual, and I sat at the guest chair by the edge of the bed still bewildered and confused. I can’t remember much of that time but after that first day at the hospital I knew that everything would be hard for everyone, especially my mother.

On Me

            I am writing again with vigor that I am sure may only last for a little bit. Unsure of the outcome this story may provide, I still decide on expressing the feelings I have been having on and off for years now ever since my mother had passed away. No one is ever really sure about life and to those who may think they have their lives set on track, well, good for you but the mystery that life provides only makes one’s life even more interesting as the days push on and the nights fleet by. I decided to write this down to create an art, to create something that I haven’t in years that I have been too depressed to do anything for myself. Yes, I have created art before and written words that astound me as I read my blogs and poems all over again and trace back the events that had caused me to write and draw such beautiful pieces. I joined a blog site when I turned 18 that helped me get through my mother’s death through writing poetry and sharing my photos that expressed my inner doubts. I had created Picasso like scripts of work on hand made paper and sold few when I had turned 20. I had created photos that can illuminate the night and give warmth to a home when I had turned 22. I had created a food blog which I am not proud to say I haven’t updated in a while when I had turned 23. Now, writing this all down I am 24 and it has been 6 years and 4 months since my mother had left this earth. As I had said, I am unsure of what this outcome may stipulate and yet I know for sure that this will be about my many emotions through out my years as a daughter, orphaned, a sister flooded with responsibility, and a young woman who’s life is to concur the restaurant world little by little with a business so known to so many people that it overwhelms her. I am that woman with all these questions and answers and experiences and thoughts.

            On a date I can barely remember, I had stepped into my home from high school and was approached by my brother. He went up to me with a confused look and a little jumpiness in his movements. “Nanay has cancer,” he mentions in an abrupt and surprising manner. “Don’t joke like that!” That conversation-ended right there. That night, my Tita came over the house to talk to my brother and I. She sat us down and slowly brought us the news that what my brother had mentioned earlier was most definitely and unfortunately true. I didn’t know how to react, what to think or what to say. I felt like a shell—hallow, empty, and useless. What was I supposed to do with that information at 16 years old? Nothing, I couldn’t do anything. My mother was diagnosed with Stage 4 C Endometrial Cancer. I couldn’t understand at the time how and why she had gotten it. I never really thought that the lump that she had made me feel while we watched TV together one night would be the death of her. My brother and I visited her the next day at Notre Dame Hospital. She looked fine! Yes she had an Intra Venous dextrose attached to her hand, but nevertheless, she looked fine to me. How could a woman so healthy looking, laughing, and chatting be dying of cancer. I couldn’t believe it. My brother barged in as usual, and I sat at the guest chair by the edge of the bed still bewildered and confused. I can’t remember much of that time but after that first day at the hospital I knew that everything would be hard for everyone, especially my mother.

            I am writing again with vigor that I am sure may only last for a little bit. Unsure of the outcome this story may provide, I still decide on expressing the feelings I have been having on and off for years now ever since my mother had passed away. No one is ever really sure about life and to those who may think they have their lives set on track, well, good for you but the mystery that life provides only makes one’s life even more interesting as the days push on and the nights fleet by. I decided to write this down to create an art, to create something that I haven’t in years that I have been too depressed to do anything for myself. Yes, I have created art before and written words that astound me as I read my blogs and poems all over again and trace back the events that had caused me to write and draw such beautiful pieces. I joined a blog site when I turned 18 that helped me get through my mother’s death through writing poetry and sharing my photos that expressed my inner doubts. I had created Picasso like scripts of work on hand made paper and sold few when I had turned 20. I had created photos that can illuminate the night and give warmth to a home when I had turned 22. I had created a food blog which I am not proud to say I haven’t updated in a while when I had turned 23. Now, writing this all down I am 24 and it has been 6 years and 4 months since my mother had left this earth. As I had said, I am unsure of what this outcome may stipulate and yet I know for sure that this will be about my many emotions through out my years as a daughter, orphaned, a sister flooded with responsibility, and a young woman who’s life is to concur the restaurant world little by little with a business so known to so many people that it overwhelms her. I am that woman with all these questions and answers and experiences and thoughts.

            On a date I can barely remember, I had stepped into my home from high school and was approached by my brother. He went up to me with a confused look and a little jumpiness in his movements. “Nanay has cancer,” he mentions in an abrupt and surprising manner. “Don’t joke like that!” That conversation-ended right there. That night, my Tita came over the house to talk to my brother and I. She sat us down and slowly brought us the news that what my brother had mentioned earlier was most definitely and unfortunately true. I didn’t know how to react, what to think or what to say. I felt like a shell—hallow, empty, and useless. What was I supposed to do with that information at 16 years old? Nothing, I couldn’t do anything. My mother was diagnosed with Stage 4 C Endometrial Cancer. I couldn’t understand at the time how and why she had gotten it. I never really thought that the lump that she had made me feel while we watched TV together one night would be the death of her. My brother and I visited her the next day at Notre Dame Hospital. She looked fine! Yes she had an Intra Venous dextrose attached to her hand, but nevertheless, she looked fine to me. How could a woman so healthy looking, laughing, and chatting be dying of cancer. I couldn’t believe it. My brother barged in as usual, and I sat at the guest chair by the edge of the bed still bewildered and confused. I can’t remember much of that time but after that first day at the hospital I knew that everything would be hard for everyone, especially my mother.

Chocolate and Fish

Champorado is a traditional Filipino breakfast. It is popularly known to be a chocolate rice porridge. It is sweet, chocolatey, and sticky all at the same time. The kick in this story is that most, practically all Filipinos pair their champorado with dried fish. Some pair it with "dilis", small dried fish, "Tuyo" a little bigger than "dilis", "tinapa" dried and smoked milk fish-"bangus", "daing na dalag" a butterflied fillet of catfish. Imagine that? I love my champorado with any of those dried fish. Dipping and mixing your champorado with those fish is just heaven in your mouth! Thinking about the concept of the existence of one without the other is unthinkable and yet the thought of fish coated in chocolate is also unthinkable and yet, it works with Champorado and dried fish!

To be continued...

Mechado

Tomato Tartine on English Muffins

Lemon Mint Soda

Tomato Pesto Spinach Pasta

Tomato Meatball Pasta with Pesto Sauce

Tonkatsu

Food from Cafe by the Ruins

Your Money's Worth isn't Always About Prices

The business of food is a great enjoyment and yet a big responsibility. Now a days, society demands you put holes in your pockets for a great food experience but I personally disagree.

The funny thing about food and the prices that go with the food choices we make when we step into a restaurant, a cafeteria, a cafe really all depends on the person purchasing the food. Yes, there are rank and files and classes of whom a restaurant/ cafe markets to but in all honesty, the judgments we make on the worth of the food we order reflects on the characteristics of the person purchasing the food.

I own my own restaurant and I have had trouble with the customer's reactions towards our prices for years now. My restaurant's market is a mix of different classes of people. I believe that there is really no such thing as the class A, B, and C's or even D's. My restaurant markets to people with big families, the corporate ladder, singletons, couples, tourists and foreigners--backpackers and business travelers. Expectantly, you would think a class C could complain about the price of a single "rice meal" that comes as comfort food/slow food rather than a class B complaining about the cost of the food. The impression people make of ordering an item on a menu depends on the level of exposure and experience one has had in restaurants and the kinds of restaurant one has been to. Today, the variety of restaurants has gone from 5 cuisines to about more than 15. Traditionally, a cuisine would be idealized as a. Fine Dining, b. Family Style, c. Fast Food, d. Fast Casual, e. Casual Dining the variations of these types of restaurants have now become even more than we would expect. That is, here in the Philippines. Because my restaurant caters to a variety of different people and classes, most have many different surprising reactions towards the cost of a meal. In restaurants such as Dencio's or Gerry's Grill, a Filipino Cuisine style restaurant that is marked as either a Type D or Type E, most meals aren't meals unless they are known to their market as "budget meals." A menu item, for example, Lechon Kawali is available on their menu priced at around Php 195.00 without rice, soup, or a salad. Then, they have a section in their menu labeled "budget meals" which has the above mentioned entree, Lechon Kawali with a cup of rice and a side of beef soup priced at Php 200.00. In my restaurant, we have our own style of Baguio Bagnet served with a cup of balatinao rice and a side of laswa (soup) priced at about Php 280.00 to 300.00. There is about an Php 80.00 difference with the two. Although, my restaurant serves each meal (not a budget meal) as a full and complete meal. We don't cut down the pork into tiny pieces and make sure a customer makes up for it with the ton of rice on their plate. If ever you would want to order a complete set of lechon kawali equal to the amount of rice that was given in the budget meal, you'd have to order their side order costing you Php 195.00. In conclusion you had just spent more in Dencio's by filling up your appetite the way it should. The funny thing about this fact is that the market that flock to a Dencio's is some what the same market that flocks to my restaurant and they expect the same service as Dencio's. What needs to be known about their style is that they cater to people who think they are on a budget but in all actuality, they don't get their money's worth but when they look at my restaurant's menu and see the food parallel to the price, they freak out and react negatively (people pay more than Php 1,000.00 for a meal that sits in the middle of the platter that is barely 2 inches in diameter, and no, that's not just French Cuisine). They bring their closed mentality to my restaurant, complain about the "over pricing" and then mention, "ang mahal naman eh" then go back to your fast casual dining and fast food! I don't cater to people who don't appreciate their food the way it is wether it's expensive or not.

People need to be more open to the different variations of food and food service they expose themselves to and you don't need to be a Class A, B+, or B to be able to appreciate food and its styles the way they should be appreciated. I blame the television shows and it's "literal" boxed in portrayals of the Filipino lifestyle. Your life isn't just like the telenovelas and Filipino drama, it's way bigger and we don't live in a script. Open up your minds, people. The cost, be it cheap doesn't mean it's worth your money. Sometimes, prices ranging from Php 280.00 to Php 550.00 can be worth your money and your while.

Recent Food Shots

Tortang Talong: Cafe by the Ruins: cafebytheruins.com

Chicken Palawan: Cafe by the Ruins: cafebytheruins.com

Porkchops: Canto, Engineers Hill, Baguio City

Chocolate Fudge Cake: Good Taste