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.
There is one thing that I bought this Christmas and it is making a big difference in my grilling world. I had wrecked a couple of pans during the past couple of years as I try to perfect the art of grilling using a pan for steaks, be it beef or pork. Steaks, I was taught through tedious discussion with steak lovers and through devout reading of food magazines, is supposed to be cooked under high heat to ensure that the succulent juices be trapped in the middle retaining that wicked liquid that makes all the difference in having a perfect bite or a shitty steak experience.
I’ve destroyed a supposedly Pan-grill French Tefal brand with a high-tech red spot in the middle to check the pan’s temperature. I have also tried the American brand Mayer but these two brands were all disappointments to me. They were built for medium to low heat and not for the heavy duty high powered heat needed for that perfect steak.
Then I realized after doing my once every god knows when breathing meditation to get into the meaning of joy eating meat that steak houses uses thick sizzling plates. Yes, eejit, they do. They heat the plate under high heat then put the meat on top until done to its required doneness then they pour that freaking brownish gravy that makes the plate sizzle then serve it to the salivating customers in line (this observation I based from mall food courts).
So I consciously searched for that thick cast iron skillet meant for heavy duty cooking and destiny brought me to Landmark in Trinoma. My active detachment approach in finding that right grill served me well. I am not greatly affected when I ask for a pan grill and are shown with sloppy thin shitty non-stick pans. I was calm.
Then as destiny would define it, I detachedly asked the salesperson for their available pan-grill describing my required specification that is, thick, heavy, and would look heavy duty enough. The salesperson confidently said, “we have just what you need.” Guiding me towards the display rack, I was just numb, thinking nothing, expecting nothing. Then fucking freaky December, there it was beside those shitty thin non-stick pans and small sizzling plates for sisig orders, the heavy-duty grill for steaks that has limitless potentials for great grilling.
It is manhole cover-like heavy and has a good diameter size to cover enough meat for grilling. And it was on sale at 50% off. Now that I got the tools, its time to apply the theory.
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. 
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