Lucky for me to have the opportunity to have a freezer well stocked with Beef this week. I salivate just thinking of the beef possibilities in store in the over freezing refrigerator freezer. Thelma bought beef in Tagaytay City, a place fighting the claim as the beef capital of the Philippines. Then a beef sale in our community supermarket added a couple more beef meat in our freezer. Last Saturday, it was a simple Beef stew garnished with tomatoes that brought the house down. Slow cooking at its finest as the flavory smell floats through the living room. The tomatoes gave that natural sour taste balanced by a perfect dash of sugar. Then Sunday evening, we tried another traditional beef recipe, the Bistek Filipino, or beefsteak. Like Bistek = beefsteak, digs? Its beef swimming in a combination marinate of soy sauce, calamansi, a dash of sugar, and garlic. After a few minutes of marinating the beef, boil it in water until tender then put in fresh shallots to counter the salty taste coming from the soy sauce. Good for eating!
A very interesting article I read that I want to share for reference in your next Manila adventure. Ive tried all the restaurants except New Toho and I still come back to all of them for more surprises.
Savory Restaurant is now in the mainstream again with branches sprouting all over SM malls. But I cannot forget the times past when my family would eat out in Savory Restaurant Cubao or Escolta.
Ramon Lee Restaurant reminds me of dated Chinese movies and would expect Bruce Lee to come out of the kitchen to chase Abdul Jabbar and Chuck Norris away.
Ma mon Luk, well, it is as present as my present disposition. I still eat their Asado Siopao with gusto and learned to mix their magic sauce in the siomai soup.
Ambos Mundos (though we frequent its sister restaurant Wah Sun more often) with its Lengua Estofada and world dishes would make me classify it as way ahead of its time when it was established in 1888. A good place to take photographs for its interior ambiance.
I saw a recipe two weeks ago called “Pinatisang Manok” or translated in English would sound like “Chicken cooked in Fish Sauce”, I think. The author mentioned its close resemblance with “Tinolang Manok” or Chicken boiled in ginger and fish sauce a.k.a Patis, I think, again.
Tinolang Manok is my comfort food since I learned to sip my soup from a spoon. I could sip its soup using a straw for all I care as long as I can slurp that gingerly hot broth reminding me of everything that comfort me. Since I got married though, that chicken in the Tinola was replaced by pork spare ribs as it was my wife’s preferred meat. It still taste splendidly and comforting but it is not chicken. She calls it “Tinolang Buto-buto” and it sure sounds very local. Like a typical Filipino name when one repeats a name to make it sound cute like “Jing-jing”, “Bing-bing”, or “Ket-ket.”
I have to admit that I also like this version but it is not chicken. There are no Kentucky Fried Buto-buto (KFB), or Max’s Fried Buto-buto. It is hard to struggle eating hard to reach meat stuck in the middle of the bone joints. Yes, the bone marrow is an extra treat but rather my heart misses it or its sure hard core cholesterol blocking my veins. I have to admit that I eat my favorite chicken’s skin and was informed of its consequences so I just indulge in denying whatever consequence it will bring.
I cooked Tinolang Manok last week and while it was not that typical healthy boiled chicken due to salt and sugar and some magic powder, it was just perfect for my taste.
Tinolang Manok
Ingredients
½ kilo Chicken (preferably Thigh and wing part, or as long as it has skin on it) 1 clove Garlic 1 bulb Onion 1 Ginger 1 cube Chicken Bouillon 3-4 tbs. Fish Sauce A pinch of Sugar Papaya Chili Leaves Cooking Oil
How to do it
1. In a pan, sauté ginger, garlic then onion. 2. Put chicken pieces and cook until a bit brown 3. Add chicken Bouillon 4. Put the fish sauce and water. 5. Put Papaya. 6. Let it boil for 15 minutes under medium heat. 7. Taste and add Sugar, and fish sauce depending on your required taste. 8. Lower the flame to low heat and add Chili Leaves. 9. Turn off the stove and serve with steamed rice.
I saw this picture taken last year of Andres freaking out seeing a big tub of cheese when we splurged some hard earned dough at the Spiral Restaurant in Sofitel Philippine Plaza. I think they have the meanest buffet set this side of the world (just because I have not tried the other all you can eat spots in Manila).
Watching Anthony Bourdain on a Sunday morning tour around Vietnam eating whatever comes his way just triggered my mint button that left me craving for Vietnamese food. I always remember Vietnam food with that minty aftertaste and a feel good guilt free feeling knowing it is prepared in a healthy way. I bet Ho Chi Minh would not live that long to defeat U.S imperialism if he did not indulge in healthy Vietnamese foods.
So Sunday evening dinner was Vietnamese food craving day. Thelma discovered the greatest Rice paper used for spring roll and just followed the instructions printed on the package and voila! a fucking great Vietnamese Spring Roll with all the works on the sides for that authentic feel bringing you in unity with the great Vietnamese people who fought for freedom and democracy but is now reverting back to their old semi-colonial and semi-feudal set-up, no thanks to the revisionists in the communist party. But let me get back to the spring roll track.
Viet Spring roll ingredients include Lettuce, boiled pork, boiled small shrimps, and vermicelli. You just dampen the rice paper then put everything inside then roll it like a big ganja ready for a light. For the sauce, I forgot the complete mixture but its got real yellow lemon and crushed garlic and some magic sauce that I would rather keep secret because I forgot. Anyway, everything you need to do is printed on the package. The Spring Roll in itself, however, cannot stand alone and must be in tandem with the magic sauce. But once the jumbo spring roll is dipped on the sauce, then all hell breaks loose inside your mouth as the wonderful Vietnamese Spring Roll gives out its magic taste that linger on until the next Vietnamese food craving.
Another Friday hunger led us to Tomato Kick, a restaurant overlooking the noisy speeding tricycles along Maginhawa Street in a spot housing a hodgepodge of interesting stores from a wasak bookstore to a Tattoo shop.
Tomato Kick is interesting to look at passing through Maginhawa St with its bastion like location that can serve as an observation deck for those specializing in tricycles doing their shit on the road. The early evening crowd in the joint was dynamic and full of joie de vivre in spite of the heat and the guess what, the roaring tricycle sound. We took our place and prayed that Paco won’t wake up while we partake of our evening repast with Ponso who enjoyed running up and down the slanted walkway while waiting for our food.
We ordered Pizza with garlic and cheese, Pasta with grilled vegetables, a bottle of beer, and Tropicana orange juice. The bottle of beer was perfect. It is San Miguel Beer pale pilsen and it went well with the pizza that is really not so spectacular. It is just a pizza but still better than the ones sold by those box type outlets with ready made pizzas they heat in an oven placed on top of a gas burner, or something to that effect. The taste is on the safe side though. Its garlic and cheese on top of an 8” thin crust has that nothing can go wrong type of preparation.
The pasta with grilled vegetable is enjoyable especially for the hungry lot. Vegetables include, but I guess is not limited to, zucchini, eggplant, tomato, and garlic grilled to release its savory flavors. It was good, actually. It’s got that nothing can go wrong type of preparation, too. Except that they did not use olive oil which could have turned up the food tastemometer two to three notches higher.
The food trip generally became a compare and contrast thing as we compared the Tomato Kick taste with our staple food preparations at home as we even use almost the very same ingredients.
It was good learning that our typical food fare at home that we cook during our weekday breakfasts at 4:45 am in the morning can actually draw-in a motley crowd of people who enjoys their tricycle roaring sounds and knows their pizza and pasta without blowing their pockets.
It was a hungry Friday and all road leads to neverwhere.
Due to power failure and shits that pervade in the country, and no thanks to the bureaucrat capitalist scumbags, we were allowed to go home real early. So, I went to my parent’ house to check on Ponso and Paco (Andres is in school, as always). Ponso was ecstatic learning that he’d go sports climbing with my sister Hana in the afternoon that made me change plans of bringing the boys to the park when Andres comes home.
So Paco and I waited for Thelma to check out food places while whiling the time away before picking up the two boys at the climbing gym. We were hungry and can just eat anything anywhere.
On the way to the Power-Up! climbing gym, we passed by Maginhawa St., a relatively broad street compared to the normal Manila narrow alleys, near the University of the Philippines. It used to be a quiet residential street in the 1970s until the influx of business converted some parts of it into small shops and restaurants that sell anything from food, books, catering to the intellectual and middle class requirements of the area.
Alfakhr’s
Thelma craved for some Kebabs and kebabs it will be for supper. With Paco peacefully sleeping in his stroller, we were able to partake of a simple kebab dinner at Alfakhr’s, a kebab joint beside a restaurant cum bookstore. I liked the logo of the store and the name sounded naughty enough but I really did not expect much from the kebab. It was thick and full beef alright without the usual extenders and the P110 + for the two pieces with tomato is, I think, reasonable. It was a bit on the bland side though but Thelma liked it because it is, bland. Like you can escape the MSG menace by eating bland food. The yoghourt and hot sauce mixed is a welcome treat over buttered rice but it came out short of that full flavor that top notch kebab restaurants prepare. But a kebab is a kebab is a kebab to hungry stomachs, so, the dinner was consummated, peacefully, amidst the roaring tricycles hitting on the humps and the bumps of Maginhawa Street.
(photo courtesy of www.outonadate.blogspot.com)
Van Gogh is Bipolar
And I thought Van Gogh is a painter but turned out that he is a bipolar instead. Is it a job description or a state of mind? But there is a quaint restaurant that is so hard to find along Maginhawa St. called Van Gogh is Bipolar. We searched for it for like fucking 30 minutes coming from the Kebab joint and if not only for Thelma’s persistency, I would have settled in any sari-sari store to get my cold beer. However, if it was any consolation, people inside the store are in their cell phones patiently instructing their lost friends how to get to the hole. Many are lost, and few are chosen. It is hidden and requires the purity of intention to really find the place for that artsy gustatory experience.
It is homey in spite of the art particles floating inside the restaurant. Everything is almost a conversation piece reminding me of an artist’s apartment in the film “Sid and Nancy” with the Union Jack draped over some art object. Home art ideas explode inside the place giving me that sincere urge to redecorate our house to maximize its full aesthetic potential.
(picture downloaded from http://img258.imageshack.us/img258/6602/radar2hires.jpg)
Ordering at first is quite complicated. There is no waiter and you just have to really chill and ask the procedure from the kitchen counter. We just ordered a concoction called Courtney Love or something that is really refreshing. It’s got strawberry, some cute leaves, plenty of ice, some unknown liquid, and a taste that I cannot describe but, refreshing. Positive vibe traveling inside my esophagus going to my stomach and metacarpal hematological pancreatic system that actually made me smile, even if Paco is starting to do his wrecking ways inside the joint with a cute girl acting as a big sister.
I never thought Courtney Love is bipolar. I thought she is just plain sex and hotness (with her ‘Malibu’ days). But with so much craziness in this world, we all have our bipolar experiences, in one way of another.
Van Gogh is Bipolar food was formulated by the owner who is bipolar to pacify, at first, the monsters inside his head. But he eventually shared his secrets to others who are also struggling with it (believe me it is not easy, I was diagnosed 20 years ago with the same shit and it sure is freaky.) Rather than take prescription drugs, natural foods can balance soothe the restless minds, and hearts, or whichever comes first.
We were able to chat with the owner and his friend and enjoyed laughs and thoughts of being in a bipolar’s world when my parents urgently texted me because Ponso is puking at the climbing gym due to unknown reasons and that we have to pick him up right away.
So much for the intellectual chats and fancy art food. But Van Gogh is Bipolar is a treat. And I will try the lamb fare next time.
The truth is, I am forever in awe over the millions of sauces and flavorings and food pastes and everything bottled that can blend in the main food courses adding flavors that can bring out your smiles or smirks depending on your taste and mood.
I walk along the grocery aisles and I slow down as I pass by the bottled mysteries that I have not unlocked due to my limited knowledge on using them, bringing to light my conservativeness in my cooking style and taste. Most bottle labels are written in different languages that further heightens my interest but at the same time hinders me to purchase and use it precisely because of the same reasons. I think grocery owners should label and maybe put some information on the uses of these sauces and condiments and shit to educate us and expand our taste knowledge for a better world, and taste, and palate, and uh, peace and unity for mankind, and to end war and climate change?.
I am a sucker for beautiful women, and good food. I like watching Rachael Ray and her bouncy disposition that I find really sexy. And Nigella Lawson. Shit! Nigella Lawson. Seeing them together in a picture sure freaked me out.
I just had my blood chemistry examination and it went fairly quite well. So I plan to be more pro-active with my health and will cook and eat more green food to make me strong and healthy. I will start by eating more kamias (averrhoa Bilimbi). I read that it has magical power to make you strong and healthy. I like kamias as flavoring for soup.
Click on the picture and discover kamias' magical shit.
I am someone who has vetsin in the tongue. Almost every food taste delicious. I try to look at the positive side of every food I eat and not delve on the negative vibes that sometimes comes with the service or the lack of preparations thereof.
But at the moment, I am stuck with a bad case of flu-like symptoms that numbed my taste buds giving me that helpless feeling of not being able to experience that mystical joy I encounter everytime I have my repast. Shit, and I was craving for Tinolang Manok this early morning and it was given to me according to my word with a side dish of quesadillas meant for Andres' breaktime food in school. Fucking soul foods for my freaking cravings and I cannot taste it because of my snot-filled nose.
But just the same, I indulged with the early morning blessings only to eat lowly because of that blind taste that creates a barrier between me and the tinola and the quesadilla. I just used my imagination and recalled how tinola and quesadilla should taste and was swept in the drowsiness of the morning rush that never uplifted my sagging numb taste.
picture stolen from
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