Congressman Ferdinand Marcos on the True State of the Nation

THE TRUE STATE OF THE ECONOMY

Response of Rep. Ferdinand Bongbong Marcos Jr.
To the State of the Nation Address
Of President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo
House of Representatives
10 August 2009

Mr. Speaker,
Distinguished Colleagues,
Ladies and Gentlemen:

Last July 27, before a joint session of Congress, the President delivered her annual report on the State of the Nation. She painted before us a world reeling from an economic tsunami, while our country watched calmly from the sidelines, safe from its gales and floodwaters.

Today, we in the Opposition will show the nation the stark reality, so that Congress and our people can better cope with the challenges.
I will specifically respond to the President’s report on the economy – a report which left many of us wondering whether we are living in two different countries: she and her coterie in a robust and strong economy, and we and the rest of the nation in a contracting and embattled one.
The President said that we can bask in the glow of the many good things that have happened during her watch. We, however, live with the reality today of all economic sectors producing less, of people losing their jobs or working less, of companies closing or cutting down their operations, of the national budget devoting more public money to service debt, and of Government incurring bigger deficits just to continue its operations.
Our perceptions differ because the President – for rhetorical reasons – chose to report on the history of her administration, instead of reporting on the state of the nation during the fiscal year that ended last June 30.
By shifting focus, the President avoided the troubling story of where we really are today – in the economy and other sectors of national life. Very clever, Madame President, but not clever enough to deceive the nation. What she presented Congress and the nation was a doughnut – an enticing tale about a strong economy, with a big hole in the middle.
What are the missing facts and omissions?
First, the President conveniently omitted to report that in the first quarter this year the economy posted a 0.4 percent growth in GDP – a dramatic decline from the 4.6 percent growth posted last year and the 7.3 percent growth in 2007.
It is not a case of just one sector going out of synch. Nearly all sectors experienced and are experiencing decline:
• Industry contracted by 6.6 percent in the first quarter from 0.1 percent growth in the last quarter of 2008.
• Services posted no growth in the first quarter compared to 0.2 percent growth last year.
• Agriculture, fishery and forestry contracted by 1 percent in the first quarter after expanding 0.9 percent in the last quarter last year.

The pervasive slowdown in every sector leaves in doubt that Government can attain its target of 3.1 to 4.1 percent GDP growth this year.
As a result of this general economic weakening, per capita GDP contracted by more than 1.1 percent. And personal consumption expenditures dropped by 3.1 percent during the first quarter after more than 50 consecutive quarters of positive growth.
Second, totally omitted from the address is any mention of the major slowdown in the nation’s trade with the world. Exports contracted by 34.5 percent during the first five months of the year. The trend will likely persist for the rest of the year because of the gloomy global economic outlook. This is significant because exports account for 40 percent of our GDP.
Similarly, imports dropped significantly by 32.9 percent during the first five months – in stark contrast to the government’s forecast of 10 percent growth. The substantial drop in imports will most certainly mean a corresponding fall in industrial production and exports since both are heavily dependent on imported intermediate goods and raw materials for sustained production.
Third, unmentioned in the address is the fact that the budget deficit hit P153.4 billion as of June this year. This is already more than half the adjusted P250B ceiling that the government had targeted for 2009. When the government presented the budget to us last year, the target deficit was just P40B. Since then, they have adjusted the target four times already – and probably will again. According to the forecasts of domestic and foreign institutions, the P250B target deficit will be breached – with foreign international banks like Citigroup forecasting a deficit as high as P350B.
Fourth, the National Statistics Coordination Board (NSCB) has reported that the composite leading economic indicator (LEI) – composed of 11 indicators — has now declined for the fourth quarter in a row. The indicators are: money supply, consumer price index, foreign exchange rate, total merchandise imports, wholesale price index, terms of trade index, hotel occupancy rate, tourist arrivals, number of new businesses, stock price index and electric energy consumption. Of these 11 indicators, 9 were negative contributors. Only money supply and CPI were positive contributors.
In sum therefore, we have an economy slowing down and under stress. Far from the picture of strength that President painted before us, the economy was lucky to weather difficulties last year and will be under challenge this year. It is bad news for both the President and her critics because, like it or not, we all live in the same economy.
I could rest this case with just this recitation of the facts. But the President’s claim that her eight and a half years in office have been an unmitigated boon to the nation also deserves correction. Here again, she misrepresented the record – or at the very least, did not tell the whole story.
The President boasted that since she took office, there has been a faster growth of GDP. From a compounded annual average of 2.45 percent in the 1990s, growth has increased to an average of 4.28 percent.
What she failed to mention is where the growth is coming from, how much government policies were responsible for it, and how it is being distributed. The growth is not rooted in greater productivity. Investments and exports are not leading the way. The growth has been service-oriented and consumption-led. And the underlying support for domestic consumption has been OFW remittances, which now accounts for over 9 percent of GDP.
Since growth in investments and exports has been at best mediocre, it cannot be said that economic expansion is the result of pivotal policies and programs of the administration. Our OFWs, not the government, are the ultimate cause of the economy’s growth and resilience during the past 8 years.
We have reason to worry that the economy and the nation have come to depend on OFW remittances as a lifeline – like a diabetic dependent on regular injections of insulin to stay healthy.
As things now stand, any substantial drop or slowdown in remittances or deployment of our workers, which is beginning to happen with the global financial crisis, will impact heavily on overall economic performance. In the first quarter, GDP almost crawled to a halt when remittances growth slowed to 2.7 percent.
This is unhealthy for the economy and the nation. Any development strategy that critically depends on the deployment of workers abroad is cause for alarm – not for bragging. We cannot anchor our future on the export of our brawn and brainpower without suffering, sooner or later, a major decline
Similarly, we cannot gloss over the fact that economic growth over the past eight years has not filtered down to the masses of our people. Corporate profits take the lion’s share of growth, benefitting only their owners and stockholders. So much of the expansion is “jobless growth” – meaning that few new jobs are being created and there is not uplift in income and well-being among the greater majority of the nation.
The President also boasted that “the next generation will benefit from our lower public debt to GDP ratio…Kung meron man tayong malaking kaaway na tinalo, walang iba kundi ang utang, iyong foreign debt. Past administrations conjured the demon of foreign debt. We exorcised it.”
This is a clever but deceptive manipulation of the facts.
First, the truth is Government’s foreign debt increased by $9 billion during the President’s watch. While the total foreign debt settled at $52.5B as of end-March 2009 – increasing only by $600 million since 2001 – it was not the doing of her administration. In the breakdown of foreign debt, the BSP and other sectors managed to reduce their total indebtedness since 2001, whereas government debt increased from $20.3B in 2001 to $29.2B today. So the administration did not exorcise anything. In fact, we have to brace ourselves for the likely increase of foreign borrowings this year.
Second, Department of Finance officials started belying the President just a day after the SONA. They said that:
• In the first semester, government spent a total of P361.5 billion to service debts, 2.8 percent more than the same period last year. For the entire year, government projects that debt servicing will reach 8.7% of GDP, compared to 8.2% last year.
• Finance Secretary Gary Teves himself said that because of the global recession government debt (including both domestic and foreign borrowings) will rise to 57.3 percent of GDP, a reversal of the DOF’s aim to reduce the ratio to just half this year.
The President also reported that “net foreign direct investments multiplied 15 times during [her] administration” – leaving the impression that international capital inflows have been trooping to the country under her watch.
What she neglected to mention is that Direct Foreign Investments fell by 47.9 percent last year to $1.5B, and that we won’t fare any better this year given the global slowdown. The entry of Kirin Holdings into SMC is the major contributor to investments this year, but analysts doubt any surge or increase in FDIs for the rest of the year because of the general forecast of a drop in foreign capital flows to Asia this year. Our share of that pie in ASEAN is low, when you consider that while we took in $1.5B last year, Malaysia, Vietnam, Indonesia and Thailand took over $8B each. And Singapore received an influx of $22.8B. It is quite clear that we have not become the big player in the international arena that the President would have us believe.
Finally, the President slipped in a curious paragraph on employment and poverty alleviation in her address. “Bumaba [daw]”, sabi niya, “ang bilang ng nagsasabing mahihirap sila, mula 59% sa 47%. Kahit na lumaki ang ating populasyon, nabawasan ng dalawang milyon ang bilang ng mahihirap. GNP per capita rose from a Third World $967 to $2,051. Lumikha tayo ng walong milyong trabaho, an average of a million per year, much, much more than at any other time.”
She offered no details to back these stunning assertions.
So once again, let us examine the true state of the economy. According to an Inquirer report written by Tomas Africa, a former officer of the National Statistics Office, the administration’s scorecard in employment has been a combination of “the good, the bad and the ugly.”
The good is that the government has attained a measure of its target of 1 million jobs in certain years, though not every year. And the POEA deployed 1.23 million workers abroad last year, which was 14.7 percent higher than the year before.
The bad is that the jobs increase is largely of the unsustainable kind. Few jobs have been added in industry. Although agriculture employment has increased, it has not reversed the shift of workers away from the sector because of low pay, climate change, etc. The government jobs programs have raised the number of paid workers, but there is a similar increase in unpaid family workers.
The ugly is that Government’s chosen investment and employment strategies have created structural problems that will take years to straighten out. With more agriculture workers shifting to the service sectors, there will be surely repercussions in food self-sufficiency. This, coupled with the declining employment in industry, sets us farther back from the avowed goal of joining the ranks of developed countries by 2020.
As for the reduction of poverty and unemployment, let us take note that Government has changed the definition of unemployment starting April 2005. By this device, it removed 1.4m Filipinos from the ranks of the unemployed. Likewise, poverty incidence, while improving overall during the eight-year period, increased last year, with more Filipinos living under the poverty line.
To be sure, there are substantial achievements during the eight-year period that have surely helped the economy to achieve growth and are enabling us to meet the present recession.
These include the better fiscal balance achieved during the second half of the decade. After the high deficit years from 1999 to 2005, which threatened ruin to the country, the government’s budget deficit from 2006 to 2008 has been under greater control. This was made possible by the fiscal reform program, which includes the value-added taxes to offset amongst other things, the decision to condone the indebtedness to Napocor. Significantly, it was Congress and public opinion that made the reform possible, not the President who was reported to be deathly afraid of the RVAT.
Also a major favorable development has been the taming of inflation, which has averaged 5.5 percent over the decade. Credit for this belongs not to the President’s policies, but to the independent Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas, which has been a prudent steward of our currency and financial system.
Likewise contributing positively to the economy are the growth of business process outsourcing (BPO) and tourism. But these growth drivers are umbilically tied to the health of first-world economies. Our tourism industry is already reeling from the drastic slowdown in global tourism.
Finally, there is the strength of our human resources, which at home and abroad have been the real backbone of our economy. Nothing in our country confers more competitive advantage than our workers. In this, we are truly fortunate and blessed.
But having said this, let us not delude ourselves with statements that we have brushed aside the global crisis while the rest of the world is being battered by it. Nor should we boast of strength in the national economy when we know how precariously it hangs upon the stars aligning in our favor.
To be plain:
The economy is not strong when it is contracting across nearly all sectors, and when most indicators point to nearly zero growth this year.
The economy is not strong when 9 percent of the GDP is dependent on the remittances of OFWs whose deployment and income are determined by factors that are not under our control.
The economy is not strong when the country has become the biggest rice importer in the world – this despite the fact that our country is a rice producer by long tradition and in the past produced a surplus of the staple.
The economy is not strong when it attracts only a small portion of foreign investments flowing into Southeast Asia, and is usually the fourth or fifth option for most investors.
The economy is not strong when poor infrastructure continues to hobble national development, and when our infrastructure stock lags behind those of our neighbors.
The economy is not strong when graft and corruption continues to hound Government and national life, exacting a hefty part of every peso in the national budget.
Finally, the economy is not strong when Government is not meeting its own avowed economic targets, and almost every quarter has to adjust the targets downwards.
This should serve to remind us all that we have work to do together – the executive and the legislative — to cushion the nation from crisis and to build a truly strong economy.
The crisis now stalking the world and the efforts of nations to face it down raise confidence that in time adversity will be surmounted. We should be part of this tidal effort, but we can only be equal to the challenge if we are not smug and complacent but rather resolute in policy and action.
In this final session of Congress before the 2010 elections, we have to address the slowdown of the economy with the proper stimulus that we can afford and will avail. We have to shore up the safety net for our millions who are most vulnerable to economic adversity. And we have to adopt quickly measures that will make the economy more resilient and productive over the long term.
Among these measures that Congress should consider, Mr. Speaker, are:

1.In agriculture and agrarian reform, instead of ‘bragging’ about a 90-day rice buffer which has made us the biggest rice importer in the world, we propose that we aim only for a 45-to-60-day buffer, and direct the savings toward actual agri infrastructure, agri lending or partial subsidies for agri inputs which are more sustainable, provide more jobs and will directly impact on productivity.

2. In services, we should provide incentives such as market development assistance, training subsidies, guarantees and the like for A-class RP corporations to bid for jobs overseas instead of merely depending on our individual “brains and brawns” to carry us through. We can similarly direct development assistance to retirement and medical tourism developers.

3. To further strengthen the financial system, we need not only the proposed amendments of the BSP law but a full updating of our regulatory guidelines and mechanisms for financial services including pre-need.

4. To improve and streamline our tax collection efforts, we should once and for all adopt new technologies and advances for better tax collection and administration, instead of merely relying once again on increased ’sin taxes’.

5. In power and energy, we should pull together – administration and opposition alike — to lower electricity rates in order to spur economic activity. Our efforts should include bringing to parity with imported fuels the government’s share in royalties from indigenous energy sources, and directing more funds and assistance toward renewable energy development and energy conservation.

6. Finally, we urge a review of the level of debt payments and subsidies for GOCCs and study of how we can reduce the number of money-losing corporations or task groups.
These and other vital initiatives, Mr. Speaker, must engage this chamber in the session now before us.
It’s not a question of whether or not we should fortify our economic house against the difficulties and challenges of the times. We simply must.
Our people – particularly our workers — know this from the experience of countless adversities. They will not understand, if in this time of challenge, when so much of the future is at risk, their government fails in its duty to lead wisely and govern well.
Thank you, Mr. Speaker.

This is your public official

Reposting the Inquirer story on the incident about the dela paz mauling in Valley GolfClub

http://newsinfo.inquirer.net/breakingnews/metro/view/20081227-180232/DAR-chiefs-son-tagged-in-golf-attack

DAR chief’s son tagged in golf attack
By Beverly T. Natividad
Philippine Daily Inquirer
First Posted 20:48:00 12/27/2008

Filed Under: Crime<http://services.inquirer.net/tagcloud/keyword.php?tag=Crime&id=28&imp=>
, Government<http://services.inquirer.net/tagcloud/keyword.php?tag=%20Government&id=308&imp=>
, Human Rights<http://services.inquirer.net/tagcloud/keyword.php?tag=%20Human%20Rights&id=311&imp=>
, Golf<http://services.inquirer.net/tagcloud/keyword.php?tag=%20Golf&id=563&imp=>
 Most Read

MANILA, Philippines — The son of Agrarian Reform Secretary Nasser
Pangandaman and several persons beat up a 14-year-old boy and his father at
a golf course in Antipolo on Friday, the victims complained Saturday.

The alleged attackers were identified as Nasser Pangandaman Jr., mayor of
Masiu, Lanao Del Sur, and his armed bodyguards. The victims, Delfin De La
Paz and his family, said the Cabinet member witnessed the incident at the
Valley Golf Club but did not stop his son and their bodyguards from
attacking the victims.

De La Paz filed the complaint immediately after the incident on Friday with
the Antipolo police, who said the charges would be filed on Monday.

De La Paz said the incident started with an altercation after the
Pangandamans allegedly broke golf etiquette by playing out of turn and
overtaking the De La Paz family at the South Course of the Valley Golf and
Country Club.

In an interview, De La Paz, 56, said he and his two children — daughter
Bambee, 18, and son Bino, 14 -– were playing golf and were on Hole No. 3
when two golf carts bearing the Pangandamans and their friends overtook
them.

Aside from the Pangandamans, the flight also included Paysal Abdulaa,
Mohammed Hussein, Abdan Pacasuna, Rene Maglaque, and Arnel Astacio.

De La Paz said he complained to the marshal and an altercation ensued when
the two groups caught up with each other at the tee house on Hole No. 5.

De La Paz said that at the height of the altercation, Nasser Jr. suddenly
attacked him and his son, punching and kicking them and shouting: “Hindi mo
ba ako nakikilala? (Don’t you know me?)”

Bambee De La Paz, who witnessed everything, said the younger Pangandaman
continued to attack even when his brother was already on his knees pleading
for him to stop.

Bambee, in an e-mail to friends, said they decided to stop playing and
retreated to the clubhouse to seek medical attention, but their attackers
followed them to the clubhouse. This time joined by their bodyguards, the
Pangandaman group again attacked father and son. Bambee said two of the
mayor’s bodyguards pulled out their guns.

She said that while Secretary Pangandaman did not participate in the
attacks, he did not lift a finger to stop his son

and his companions from beating the victims.

De La Paz’s 14 year-old boy suffered various facial, head, and back injuries
due to the blows he received. The family plans to file charges of child
abuse, among other cases, against the assailants.

‘’This is a golf course. I have been a golfer all my life and I have never
seen anything like this,'’ Bambee said. ‘’And I thought golfers were decent
people. You would think politicians were decent people.'’

Efforts to reach Secretary Pangandaman for comment on Saturday proved
fruitless. His cell phone was off. The public information officer of the
Department of Agrarian Reform promised to call the INQUIRER as soon as he
got in touch with the secretary but he had not done so as of posting time
Saturday.

*–PAULINA M. CUENCA*

paulinamcuenca@yahoo.com
pmcuenca@upd.edu.ph

And that is why we will remain a 3rd world country forever

I post this blog of the delapaz daughter about a mauling incident in Valley Golf club. This is another example of why we will remain a 3rd world country forever. This Mayor has obviously learned nothing of civility and basic respect. As an elected official, you would imagine that he would be the finest example of respect for law and simple rules of the game. What more a gentleman’s game such as golf. Obviously a family with no pedigree. If he were to remain in office, my heart goes out to the people of  Masiu City, Lanao del Sur, victims all of you. My prayers go out that this Mayor, Secretary in fact his entire family be enlightened by the holy spirit on the sacred trust given to them in a position of authority. If any og GMArroyo’s people read this, its something I’m sure you can be proud of. You created this monster.

If God may inflict some punishment upon you, may it be one that teaches you a lesson and one that will give you eternal salvation because right now, with what happened, boy you guys are going to rot in hell. 

http://vicissitude-decidido.blogspot.com/2008/12/world-is-fucked-up.html)
—

*The world has gone
crazy.*<http://vicissitude-decidido.blogspot.com/2008/12/world-is-fucked-up.html>
Bambee dela Paz

So, I just had the worst day of my life.

*At around 1:30 PM today, at Valley Golf and Country Club, Antipolo City,
Mayor Nasser Pangandaman, Jr., Mayor of Masiu City, Lanao del Sur, his
father, Secretary Nasser Pangandaman of the Department of Agrarian Reform,
and company, beat my defenseless 56-year-old dad and my 14-year-old brother
to a pulp because of some stupid misunderstanding on the golf course.*

*
*

This is a golf course. I have been a golfer all my life, and I have never
seen anything like this. NOTHING. This is hard to comprehend. And it
happened to my own father and my own brother too. Right in front of my eyes.

My brother and I were playing golf at the South Course of Valley. We were on
the 3rd hole, and we see two golf carts going past us, overtaking our
flight, and setting up to tee off on the next hole. My dad goes up to them
and asks them why they would do that, why they would overtake us without
even asking for our permission. Golf etiquette 101. One of the guys says
that they’re with the flight in front of us. (So what? That doesn’t
give
them the right to just pass us WITHOUT asking.) So, we go to the 5th hole.
The flight behind us catches up with us, and asks us what caused the hold
up. We said that this flight just slipped in front of our flight. So we
complained to the marshall. We play the 5th hole and walk towards the next
hole, where there is a teehouse, and both the flights in front of us were
there, talking with the marshall. The mayor of Masiu City, Lanao del Sur
talks with my dad. Things get heated up. Voices were raised. But never, in
my wildest dreams, did I ever imagine that someone would pull out a punch.
Apparently not. He attacks my father. His flightmates, maybe 2 or 3 of them,
rush to his aid and beat up my father. My 56-year-old father. My younger
brother and I could not just watch. We rushed to break the fight. My younger
brother pleads to the mayor to please stop it. To not hurt my dad. To just
stop. His words still ring through my head…”Sorry na po, sorry na
po…tama na…tama na po…” With his hands in front of his chest in a
praying position. PLEADING. The mayor socks him in the face. My brother
defended himself. My dad is still on the ground getting clobbered. My
brother is the same way. I try to stop the fight, but all I can do is stop
one person. There were 4 or 5 of them attacking now.

Someone breaks up the fight. I thought it was all over. The mayor shouts to
his caddy: “Hindi nila kami kilala! Sabihin mo nga sa kanila kung sino
ako!”
And believe me, I had no idea who this person was. But now I know. He’s the
person who, with 4 other men, beat up my 56-year-old father and my
14-year-old brother. He’s the person who sacks a pleading 14-year-old kid
in
the face. He’s a person who, I am sure, is gonna rot in hell.

I lash out, but my dad held me back. I was screaming my lungs out, shouting
to this mayor, telling him about what he had done. I said: “Nakakahiya
kayo.
Singkwenta’y sais anyos ang tatay ko. And kapatid ko kakatorse anyos. Anong
ilalaban nila sayo?”

The mayor looks at my brother, point to his face, and says, “Tatandaan
kita!” And he tells me that my brother has a bad attitude and that I need
to
watch him. WHAT THE HELL?! So, my brother’s bad for defending his father?!

We leave. We walk to the clubhouse to file a complaint. My brother asks for
a doctor. My dad could barely walk. Their group comes to the clubhouse, sees
my brother. Once again my brother pleads, says sorry, and is crying. He was
CRYING, for crissakes. But no. The relentless mayor still punches him in the
face, and then sees my dad and goes after my dad again. Him and his friend
pull my dad to the ground, pulls at his feet, and steps on him like he’s
dirt. I run to him and try to hold him back, holding him back by his shirt,
while this other guy and this girl tries to stop me. She tells me to just
stop it. I scream in her face “they’re beating my father up and you
want me
to stop?!” I pull at his shirt–I don’t let go. All I can see was my
dad
being trampled on. I didn’t even see my brother getting beat up.

People pull them away. I get my dad, and I saw my brother. His right ear was
bleeding. I freaked out. I told the receptionists to bring my brother to the
clinic. I pull my dad away. People were separating us.

My mom and my older brother come. I tell her Bino’s right ear is bleeding.
They both look like they could kill. My dad holds my brother off, I hold off
my mom. When I finally got my mom under control, my older brother gets away
and I hold him off. Two of the mayor’s bodyguards pull out guns. I embraced
my brother from the back, just holding him back, crying. The receptionists
came to us, crying, hugging me, my dad, and my mom, whispering to us to just
leave. “Maam, umalis na po kayo, may mga baril sila…Maam…umalis na po
kayo please…”

I am pretty sure the Secretary of DAR did not take part in the fight, but he
just watched all this happen. He watched two of his sons, as we figured out,
the other guy was his son, too, beat up my father and my 14-year-old
brother. He didn’t do anything to stop it. And this person is what now? A
cabinet member. A politician.

Sounds like something out of a movie, doesn’t it? But this is what
happened.
TODAY. The day after Christmas. To my family. And all I ask for is JUSTICE.
The people at Valley Golf did not seem to want to help us. None of the
security guards even tried to stop the fight. Right in the clubhouse. I came
back after the fight was over and talked to the receptionists. They say they
did not see anything. The general manager of Valley Golf would not give us
the names of the men who made my brother’s ear bleed. It took him an hour.
Maybe even more than that. He seemed to not want to help us. Because, we
were against the SECRETARY OF THE DEPARTMENT OF AGRARIAN REFORM and the
MAYOR OF MASIU CITY, LANAO DEL SUR. They were all scared.

The world has gone crazy. Two politicians beat up a defenseless 56-year-old
father and his 14-year-old son. At a golf course. I swear to God, I thought
golfers were decent people. You would think politicians were decent people.
I guess not. I guess they gang up on 56-year-old men and beat up pleading
14-year-old kids.

Please pray for my dad, my brother and for my whole family. Please pray that
we get JUSTICE. Oh God, please, give these people what they deserve.

Hong Kong is Harbour City

Aaah Hong Kong, the fragrant Harbour . . . repository of freedom and free trade . . . there is no finer collection of high quality merchandise, food and leisure on earth.  It has every imaginable persuasion on earth, to suit every budget, but we aren’t her today on some discount shopping exercise, nor are we on a venture to live the highlife and spend every last penny on all the things we don’t need. This is our adventure. This is our special trip and we are going to just look at some shops, not all as the time simply won’t permit. But we surely will see everything we need to see at the Harbour City shopping complex right on Canton Road.

Hong Kong started out as an escape from the mainland’s grip, whether it was Kublai Khan or some other emperor’s rule, and provided some form of escape from what was probably perceived as an attempt to curb or get in the way of one’s independent pursuits. Being nothing more than a muddy swamp of different citizens from the kingdom, it grew slowly as a trading post being right on the water. As the Western World slowly made headway into the Middle Kingdom, Hong Kong grew as a major disembarkation point and the economy grew.

The Harbour City shopping mall is attached to the Marco Polo Hong Kong Hotel through a series of connecting pedestrian paths and escalators within the hotel with an option to0 enter right along busy Canton road, as they appear to be one continuous structure.  From the Harbour City shopping mall onto the Gateway Arcade and then the Ocean Terminal, we are really looking at a row of malls set one after the other.  In here you will find literally every imaginable icon of high fashion. From Dior to Gucci, Lanvin and Bally, Valentino and Ferragamo, why, even Louis Vuitton has opened the largest shop in the Asia Pacific Region with its front door right along Canton Road. If one were to gaze into the front door, you would see a video wall, oozing with melting gold slowly trickling down the screen like syrup flowing or maybe an even more vivid image is golden magma, flowing down this wall while the doorman, specifically chosen to provide a menacing air of security on this outlet, responds to all who gawk with a smile.

As we walk the low ceilinged halls, shoulder to shoulder with what must be most of the city, we realize that you can tell once you’ve crossed over into another mall because the feel changes. Whereas at the Harbour City you walk through the marvelous Lane Crawford department store, and G.O.D. access is via a wide avenue of paths looking out onto Hong Kong Harbour on your west; the next zone Ocean Terminal is filled with more varied choices aside from the FACES outlets of various different major brands of beautifying opportunities and the gargantuan Toys R Us at the KidX floor. The Gateway arcade at its northernmost end offers a little more eye candy in its concentration and profusion of signature shops, some of which we will be encountering for the first time, and, of course, the four state of the art cinemas.

We chose to look at just some of the more interesting outlets that are, for us anyway, interesting in the sense that it would be our first opportunity to see the retail shops of these brands outside of their home shores. Some of the more interesting shops are those born in the Land of the Rising Sun, Japan. Over at the Ocean Terminal, there are a slew of different shops more known in their shores than here. Interestingly, the shops showcase more casual wear targeted primarily for a much younger market. Spanning 7 blocks along Canton Road, we simply had to be selective with what we choose to shop around at.

Y3 is a collaboration of Japanese cult designer Yoji Yamamoto and Der Mark Mit der 3 Reimen, Adidas. Blending haute couture with sport, it’s mostly an exercise in white, when you enter their store at the 3^rd level of the Ocean terminal showcasing the three stripes applied in a unique fashion, as a diagonal break from the clean lines or as a subtle accent on a back pocket Predominantly casual and chic with lines ranging from t shirts, to shoes and the stunning gold jacket shimmering in its metallic glory. This is a must see experience in its simplicity and the simple lines that the designs create.

Moussy, literally along the same row as Y3, pronounced, “mouse – see” caters to a very trendy kind of crowd with more risqué’ taste what with their superfluity in the use of leather and leatherette as well as zebra and other animal type prints set on pastel color shirts and skirts; from caps to shirt to shoes to accessories, a complete makeover is a real possibility. Drawing obvious inspiration from the punk rock and decadence of the 80’s scene, we enter and it is full of a young crowd. Conspicuously dressed in a mini skirt and t shirt, Peroxide blondes assist the shoppers who provide a continuous flow of customers, the lone cashier struggling to keep up with the volume of business being generated within.  This is a Japanese response to sexiness and glamour and this is the dominating theme behind the dark denims. The loose fit shirts are in or so they say, as this is what reveals the “bodyline of the ever sophisticated”, but if you ask me the pumps are what makes the store here, simple down to earth and very wearable.  

XPlus, by far is the largest shop on this 3^rd level of Ocean terminal, opened in 2007 with a fresh new concept in lifestyle. Putting together different brands under one central location, there are over 40 different brands offering anything from clothes to shoes, tables and lamps, chairs and furniture, clocks and gizmos for the home. In and by itself it is a shopping center for the home and family. Choose from among different named brands to clothe yourself, Pepe Jeans and Thailand’s most famous clothing line, Greyhound. Gift items from “Ugly Dolls” to Sega Toys; Decorative pillows from Human Touch for that perfect gift item with a story or give a gift of towels shaped in different desserts, Tiramisu when we last checked. Pens and drink bottles, chairs and lifestyle furniture including clocks and lamps, watches and jewelry, trick or treat accessories. The list goes on. We spent so much time here that we literally had no chance to change for dinner.

Evisu, still at the third level of the Ocean Terminal, with its iconic double hump logo, generates images of the perfection of Mt. Fuji and clouds racing against a denim sky and of seagulls flying. The selvedge jean is not the jean but the fabric itself. Evisu starts out with a fabric that is woven out of special looms and provides a soft yet sturdy material that deserves this logo. The product line expands to shirts and bags, some of which we had in fact loved so much that we asked the Manager, where the designs for his outfit were, and he sheepishly replies “ . . oh no special edition, not yet available. . :” well what are the chances of that? Started in 1988 by Yamane san, he traveled far and wide to satisfy his connoisseur taste for specialty denim. Selvedge itself refers to end of a cloth that runs in on itself, but now refers to any expensive and exclusive denim, so inspired by this thought, an entire clothing and accessory line dedicated to the denim is what you can expect here.

One level down is Adidas NBA which in itself is a strangely named shop but this is the only place we found with an entire display and line committed to the Beijing Olympics. All models are available in any color as long as their black and white. Meant as a line to honor the athletes of the current Olympics, there are no sport models, whether in the games, in acting or in high fashion; no flashy ads just a display showcasing the different Olympic sports and the best shoes to go with it.

From here, we work our way north and enter into the Gateway straight up to the highest level to work our way down. Here the walkways are flanked on either side by elegant brass-like railings and a higher ceiling than the rest. No doubt to lend a feeling of space.

Walking into the Alessi which is Full-screen

ALESSI SHOP
Shop 3230a, Gateway, Harbour City
KOWLOON HONG KONG - HONG KONG

Shop No. 3230 at the 3^rd level of the  Gateway Arcade is like walking into an art gallery. With a soft spot for Hong Kong because of its major designer Gary Chang, we feel we are entering more into a house of industrial design and although still possessing a uniquely Italian flavor, it emphasizes that many of its creations ( and not products ) have mass appeal in mind. Although the showcase Oficina Alessi as their top of line models exclusive and expensive, an ode to good taste.

Just a hop and skip away is Pylones and walking into this little shop is like entering a world locked in a profusion of psychedelic color. The little curios and gadgets are colored so brightly and lend a happy atmosphere to this French franchise. From little bottle openers to ball pens and clips, almost every household item is given a twist of flavor style and color that can brighten any day. A lot of people have said that it is the only place where you can buy anything you will never ever need, but who doesn’t need a bike bell or a dog leash. What about a mini refrigerator, don’t tell me you haven’t secretly sought one for yourself. Awash in all bright pastel shades, its like walking into a 70’s advertisement. The imaginative creations can stock one house of all its domestic gadgets and accessories.

Vintage 55 one level down glamorizes Steve McQueen who has probably done more to influence the macho image of the Hollywood screen idol in ways that John Wayne and Marlon Brando put together never could and Vintage 55 draws its inspiration from his movies and what he represents. Based in Milan, Italy’s  center for fashion, with each item you could almost see yourself as Faye Dunaway or Steve himself in the original Thomas Crown Affair  wearing their fashions, of turtle necks and knee high skirts and their aromatherapy line of t shirts to foil any unnatural scents from standing in the way. Sorry style is our excuse as their motto says

We are sneaker lovers and simply could not resist the Converse shop at the same level, with its mounted display of their new arrivals and Sale Items. A bright red wall holds up hundreds of styles to review. A sneaker is a sneaker some might say but Converse would have to be the sneaker of sneakers. Commemorating its 100^th year this 2008, they enlisted artists worldwide to lend their mark on the shoe’s trademark design, the Chuck Taylor All-Star high cut. The ones who made the cut are the designs of Ginger Jones from the USA, Yuko Yabuki of Japan, Dennis Juan Ma of New Zealand and Supakitch of Juvignac, France. Their creations will be available starting this September.

And naturally all this walking certainly does build up an appetite, and all we had to do was follow our nose to the Canton Deli, bastion of old Hong Kong style Chinese cuisine. They weren’t kidding when they said unpretentious with its wood themed décor and plethora of old style bird cages, it was like stepping back in time to the 60’s. The real piece de resistance is the stunning harbor view while dining on traditional dishes like Cantonese Dim sum, classic Wanton noodles, all sorts of congee and all manner of sautéed wok prepared dishes. Their insistence on the use of the freshest ingredients has certainly augured  well for them as the style is simple, straightforward and brings nostalgic memories evoking flavors from the past of a home style, generous and luscious cuisine.

I wish we had more space to talk about what else we saw of Hong Kong just here at the Harbour City complex. We never talked about the simplicity of a Baked Bun with Hong Kong Milk Tea at the Canton deli, nor touched on designer clothes and shops that chose the Harbour City as their showrooms. From the largest Louis Vuitton shop to the classiest Gucci outlet, the top of the line to clearance sales of everything else, putting their prices at par with the side street curio shops. It never occurred to us that indeed, what Canis Lee, Assistant General Manager said was true, there truly is something for everyone here.

King of the Park in North Park

North of Manila lies an oft unnoticed stretch of paved road leading towards the hills of Antipolo. Out on this road the Medical City, once an old decrepit hospital straddling a short stretch of road between the Shangri La Plaza and the SM Megamall re engineered itself to a grand facility and along its sides a slew of restaurants, and coffee shops established themselves into the strip. Inevitably, in the search for comfort from the pressures of a hospital, doctors, nurses, visitors and yes even patients, found respite from the dreaded hospital food, that North Park opened a branch overlooking Ortigas Avenue.

North Park began discreetly as a small linoleum topped teahouse in the tradition of the noisy, Smokey and fast paced Makati Avenue, serving up dimsum, congee and noodles. It began by serving single serve items and slowly as its popularity increased, expanded their menu to include short orders from the braised to the fried noodles, steamed and fried wontons, traditional items like pinsec frito (deep fried dumplings) sweet and sour pork, and a whole host of other items. When the Soon brothers opened in 1996, right on Makati corner. Kalayaan, the plan was to provide food that everyone loves and recognizes. Naturally, people would flock to the familiar and before you know it, that main branch wasn’t big enough. 15 branches later, North Park is still dishing out the familiar favorites like their Fried Noodles, Nan king Beef and Double Pork Rib entrees; as well as the classic Beef Wanton, precursor to the surge in “Pares” (Anise braised Beef) and soon you can expect it to open at the Ocean Park. This franchise also gave birth to some other variants such as Tiananmen right across the street in Makati Avenue, which is more like a bar hangout but still filled with tasty treats of which my favorite is the Steamed Snow fish and Oriental Salad; as well as Next Door which is a little pricier but includes different favorites like curries and desserts particularly their panacota. A more recent addition is Kopi Tiam which is coffee shop in a combination word of Malaysian (Kopi) and Hokkienese  (Tiam), and is one to watch out for.

On this visit, we meet with Cherry Lim So, their petite Marketing Manager, who tells us this branch we visited, “ . . It’s for the Green Meadows and other Pasig residents.” Like most other North Park branches it is designed unlike the others which are normally laid out as one big room. Its bright red walls outside give away its Chinese heritage. This time there are two entrances, first into the main dining hall, where the familiar stainless steel table tops are laid out in the center while along the walls are cubicles. Naturally the menu serves as the place settings and they still use the familiar cutlery that feels good to the touch with just the right weight, although, we still did ask for chopsticks. There is no master chef at the North Park but the history of the Soon family in the restaurant business goes back to the days of the Golden Peking restaurant in Cubao, renown for its eel dishes. The brothers still keep a foot in the restaurant business with North Park and despite an Ecole Le Roche pedigree to spur their capacity for more complex dishes, it is the old favorites and reliable entrees that truly make the difference; anyway, as the saying goes, if it ain’t broke, why fix it? Anyway it brings mainstream cooking to the masses, so to speak. A connecting hallway lined on either side with cubicled tables on a cobblestones path leads into another vestibule where the bar is located; and if you go further, an alcove is framed by a sliding door with a typically Chinese design, a circle with in the center split by the doors that slide into and additional room with walls cushioned by a straw colored wallpaper and Chinese painting with calligraphy and typical brush stroked images of Koi cavorting in pools in simple wooden frames. This could be a very private dining area for special parties. 

Today’s tasting revolves around the less frequently ordered items but are nonetheless winners in their own right. The cold appetizers are various cold cuts comprising Chinese chorizos, spread like a deck of cards on one side framing the soy chicken and steamed white chicken sandwiching the roasted and barbecued pork loin “asado” style. It is so typically a restaurant mainstay that just looking at it, you can already tell how it will taste so we dig in with gusto! The chorizos are smooth textured with no outer skin to have to do battle with, while the roast pork dipped in a bit of hoi sin sauce are exactly the way you’d expect them to be, sweet with a tart finish highlighted by the hoi sin. Chicken whether white or soy would tend to taste the same except for some subtle differences particularly in the skin, but paired with the ginger, garlic and oil dipping sauce for the steamed chicken will give Hainanese chicken rice a run for  its money while the soy chicken simply lends the saltiness of soy sauce at just the right blend with the more commonly bland characteristic of white meat.  On our insistence, we are served shark fin siomai which are clad in the classic yellow wonton skins and pinched on the top to form a ridge. I doubt if there are really shark fins in there, as this would surely skyrocket the prices beyond reach but as heart warming food, unbeatable as they lift the bamboo steamer cover and the puff of steam escapes, the aroma of freshly steamed dimsum is unmistakable. We get a real taste of what we’re missing with the prawns in sweet chili sauce as whole prawns are coated in a crisp batter and fried. I can almost imagine how the sweet chili sauce would have to be made from scratch with the cook reducing the combination of vinegar, sugar and tomato sauce with chopped chilies to produce a thick sticky sauce to which you add the fried prawns and serve. As each prawn hits our mouths, the effect is the same. . . you recognize this flavor, its uncompromisingly familiar, as the crisp batter crunches and the marriage of the sweet spiciness comes alive. The play with texture produces feeling of satisfaction. You wonder, why you have never ordered this before. . Is it actually on the menu? Are there things which aren’t on the menu that you  can order? “. . . The broccoli flowers in garlic . . The kangkong and kalian in garlic . . .” Cherry tells us is a regular item ordered but still isn’t on the menu. We check and we find, nothing. . . it isn’t on the menu indeed. We finish with a personal favorite, which I didn’t realize is not a regularly ordered item, the Fookien style Fried Rice which is essentially a generous portion of Yang Chow Fried Rice smothered in what could be classified as the same sauce used in the Fried Noodles but more vegan with a profusion of mushrooms and vegetable. The braised noodles would have a similar type of presentation in a very LAARGE deep, and full plate. It is simply a comfort dish that goes well with our without a main entrée accompaniment. This would be a tour de force of a dish that begs tasting.

Part of what they encourage at North Park is to try out the desserts. You won’t find any Fruit compote pavlovas or canonigos with rum, but you will find their version of halo halo that could run rings around what the others may serve by sheer content of condiment alone. They offer it in a tall glass with very fine shaved ice and two little demitasse cups each of syrup and fresh milk. This changes the character of a traditionally Filipino dish with its heaps of sweet preserves. And the one final item in the dessert is  black and white gulaman (gelatin) with tropical fruit. This marries the tart freshness of diced fruit in syrup with the grassy herbal undertones of black gulaman, an indubitable Chinese staple,  while the white gulaman combines structure  to this dessert and brings the flavor full circle.

As North Park looks forward to an ever expanding network of branches to bring this mainstream dishes to the public, we ponder what the future might bring to this franchise.  You can see from the heady mix of all types of clientele that the food here brings all people together to eat the familiar and that which is intended to satisfy and bring them together and share a meal. A chance to catch up on stories, a chance to catch up on what’s going on, while sharing food that will not divert attention away from the company but will certainly push the conversation along. No pretenses, just good food.

Botin restaurant

The Heart of Spanish Cuisine in Botin

Tucked away in the Calle de Cuchilleros, squats an old building, not nearly decrepit as it is old but rustic by its very existence on the same spot over the last 218 years. Approaching from the Plaza Mayor, you can barely make it out from the top of the stairway leading into the Calle, where most likely thousands of personalities have trod down this path, when in 1882, Gomez de la Serna wrote that “ . . it seems as if Botin has always existed and this is where Adam and Eve ate their first cochifrita . . “ Small wonder that this restaurant, dubbed the oldest restaurant in the world, continues to serve what it serves best, the cochinillo de Avila or their cordero de Un Aranda surviving many of its habitués. It continues to receive deliveries of the suckling pig from Avila, and the lamb from Aranda, because as the present proprietors (still from the original family), the Gonzales’ have said “ . . what matters to me is to please the client . . . if the public accepts the house, sincere like she is but comfortable without luxuries, with the best gender (ingredients) that is available that is possible to be offered . . to me, that is enough.”. This must have been the very same motto that a French cook, Jean Martin must have said as he setup a little inn on 17 Cuchilleros, together with his Asturian wife to provide accommodations and meals to the then many travelers to Madrid. It was an old city, having been established already in the 1500’s but the hordes of travelers would be wanting for some place to stay and some thing to eat. Regulations then did not allow inns to serve food but instead were only able to make offerings which their guests brought, thus, Jean would work only with what his tenants would have slung on their shoulders, a baby lamb perhaps or a suckling pig, of course, spurning a Spanish legend that in Spanish inns, you only eat what the travelers brought. This would have troubled the young painter Goya who worked at the Botin in 1765 as a dishwasher, wondering what artistry there was in dishwashing.

Nonetheless, the magic continues at the Botin, where Emilio Gonzales, sits as the third generation of the family operating the Restaurante and we have the good fortune to sit in one of the chairs where perhaps Ernest Hemingway once sat, spinning a yarn no doubt between glasses of Sangria, extolling the virtues of how to cook paella, but tonight we are here in this legendary place, with Fina Abenoja, to savor the freshest of food cooked in the oldest of cooking vessels, the cochinillo de Avila. It is said that the pigs from Avila acquire a certain flavor and aroma, that’s why that is the only place where real cochinillo should come from. The little animal is split from the neck right down to the belly to which an copious amounts of salt are added, paprika, herbs (bay leaf and tarragon no doubt) and it is allowed to sit to absorb the spices.  It is turned skin side up on a terra cotta oval dish then some broth to ensure its moistness and white wine is poured before sliding into an oak wood fire burning oven for the requisite hour to allow the baby fats to melt away, melding the skin to the tender meats within, and then it is done! Unlike Arturo Barea’s heroine, who goes to Botin to eat a whole cochinillo whether by herself or others, with a bowl of lettuce and a liter of wine, we are three, and not a whole but just a portion, a hind leg, but a liter of wine regardless. The night wears on as we realize, it is a Filipino manning the ovens, for the last 25 years.

The atmosphere is different from each level of the “meal house”. In the cellar, it is more private and surreal with the incandescent light casting a yellow glow on everything, but surrounded by the bricks and mortar, some of which have been there since the 16^th century creates an ambience of secretive and hushed tones, no doubt as rebels would be  hiding from the Franco loyalists of the time, and as you ascend to the dining rooms, natural light is let in and the homey atmosphere of an inn, is resplendent everywhere. Unlike other restaurants that seek to preserve the luxury of royalty in the table tops, cutlery and in the appointments, the warm woodposts and black and white tiles on the floor of the Perez Galdo dining room makes you feel right at home, overlooking the street or the display case of desserts most notably the tartaleta da manzana (apple tarts). The higher up you go, you can feel that you might be invading the private residences of Jean Martin, as is typical in a sitting room, entering the foyer through an arch from the stairway but the tables lining the walls and the prints depicting images of spain from another time will take you back down. On the topmost floor sitting over the Castilla dining room is the Felipe IV dining room where the largest number of windows look out onto the street and the area takes on an entirely different feel with lighter colors and the white tablecloths reflecting the sunlight in the day.

It isn’t luxury you feel although the prices say otherwise, but the rustic ancient feel of the premises is what attracts and holds you. From the waiter who had worked the premises for 40 years, to the etched glass dividers sealing away muted conversations in the dining room, the Botin reflects a gastronomic and cultural trip back in time.  In the kitchen, toque in head and typical chefs clogs and hounds tooth pantaloons, remain the standard attire, but you look into the small opening where the lamb and pigs go through and you see the tiles lining the exterior of the oven showing some ladies cavorting in a dance they’ve done for hundreds of years. You realize there is a bit of history with every bite you take of their dishes. From the Jamon con melon, to the gazpacho, and on to the Sopa de Ajo and the fresh strawberry desserts. We feast and dine on history tonight, and hope that the next 218 years will find our next generations enjoying the same.

The Alba review

The kitchen glowed with all the fiery heat of the ovens  that had been burning for years as it is typical of most furnaces to burn continuously as to fire it down would be disastrous to the next day’s operations. To start up a wood burning oven that had completely gone cold would simply take too many hours to the detriment of the diners who would have fallen in line outside in the cold to feast on food on the menu.  You could almost imagine the steps of little Anastacio, barely age 10 but already a kitchen hand, dishwashing which in those days may have meant drawing water from a hand pump in the backroom or even the backside of this tenement, as it was 70 years ago in Avila. He would look at all the activity in the kitchen from his vantage point outside, the yellow glow of light enunciating the importance of keeping the oven temperature just right for the cochinillos waiting their turn in the ovens, splayed on oblong ceramic bowls, like a procession waiting to enter the church. Endless shouts of the chefs shouting instructions to their kitchen hands, who would willingly respond with their “SI SEŇOR!!” for all to hear; and it is this busy sight that paves the path that he takes from dishwasher to finally the kitchens of the Chipen restaurant as a chef where he was convinced to come to Las Islas Filipinas. Chipen is Spanish for the act of touching the fingertips to the mouth with an action of a kiss while the hand makes a broad sweep forward with the smack. These memories are probably now just a faint wisp of what might have been some thought from a dream, somewhere between reality and imagination for Seňor, Anastacio de Alba, chef patron and erstwhile founder of what may well be the first purveyors of authentic Spanish cuisine in the Philippines, once hailed as the man with the golden touch.

We meet at their Polaris address which has remained there since its 1988 reincarnation as the Patio de Alba, when it re-opened taking the place of Casa Colas, which Don Anastacio had put up in 1980 in what was then a quiet residential neighborhood, slightly off the beaten track of what was then the reckless drag strip which was Makati Avenue. Tucked away amidst mature acacias and low rises, away from the maddening crowd, the well heeled mestizos, and the avid dining habitués would have found solace in the dark woods and heavy red curtains so typical of the Castilian penchant for quiet luxury within the walls of this little cantina.  Anastacio held sway here, weaving the magic of his craft, seasoned by years toiling behind a stove, in front of an oven, behind a kitchen counter, having taken countless trips to markets, to procure the freshest of ingredients, and experimenting with alternatives in this tropical country trapped in some Mediterranean summer. Today it is Miguel and Cachelle de Alba, heir to the throne so to speak of the restaurant chain named after Anastacio, that speak to us of how tradition meets the children of this legacy.

“ . . . all the recipes were passed on like some oral tradition and there was no fixed measurement for any of the recipes but it was always the same, same taste” which sounded more like a magical expression than a complaint from Miguel. Although business was his training, particularly in accounting, despite the countless hours he spent in the many kitchens of Alba’s fame, he recognized the value of consistency in all the menus. Having inherited the restaurants operations, he sank himself in the study and awareness of what this legacy held. With thanks to the CCA (Center for Culinary Arts) Miguel found himself immersed completely in the process of the operations and realized, it was in his blood after all. As we speak in the lazy afternoon sun of the Makati branch, the heavy red curtains are gone and in its place a pleasant stained glass mosaic on windows that one had never thought were actually there. Miguel and Cachelle met through his half sister and Cachelle readily admits she knew nothing of food except that she loved to eat. This was obviously enough and now they find themselves in the thick of the business, in an industry where the crowds can swing every which way with every new trend, the Alba’s chain has survived through it all. Beyond fusion, creativity, new world chefs and every other imaginable trendy cuisine, Alba’s survives. Cachelle provides the marketing and promotional support while Miguel continues the creations in the kitchens.

On this particularly balmy afternoon, we sit and talk beside one of the windows. A portly waiter serves us ice cold water, and iced tea, nonchalantly with hardly a smile but with a crisp efficiency. “. . over twenty years” is his reply to our question of how long he has worked here. That would mean, he was here when it first opened as Casa Colas! “ . .  .and Papa treated everyone as family here . .” quips Miguel as Cachelle nods in affirmation, “ . . which can be both good and bad . . . and we deal with it like, well . . family” like most anything else in this world that has any real meaning. It is a formula that seems to have worked and we were never one to break with tradition specially one that has been around since 1952, good, bad or otherwise.

One of Miguel’s contributions to the well read and oft ordered menu are the tapas which he prides in adding on to his legacy to the selections. Although gambas al ajillo and Angulas have been around for just as long on the menu, if there was one part of  Spanish cuisine that has just recently been RE-discovered, it would have to be the tapas. The night begins late in Madrid, Barcelona and just about every other Spanish town and city, as the diners begin the libations with small dishes ranging from the shrimp, to eels, to the snails and carnes as well as an occasional vegetable, partnered with some fresh baked bread, which in older times would have been set on top of one’s glass of wine or sangria, to discourage any thirsty flies or insects no doubt. To this day, this fixture replayed across all cities in Spain as the night wears on, and tonight it seems we’ve walked right into this  tradition as Miguel has laid out 18 dishes for starters.

Where do I begin, as the strains of Laura Fygi’s Latin Touch album squeak past the speakers ingeniously placed into the rafters waft its wailful lament of Perfidio begin with what we know, the gambas ala plancha, grilled prawns, peeled with heads kept on. traditionally served in a small round ceramic bowl, the blend of olive oil, garlic, peppers and the shrimp wastes no time in lending something familiar to the palate, succulent and tender, the delicate flavor of the sea does its expected dance with the rest of the ingredients and it is a portent of things to come. Watching Miguel dig into this creation determines how important it is to suck the heads to extract the maximum flavor from them. Calamares fritos dredged in a flour and starch mixture and fried crisp refresh our taste buds in time for the first unknown dish, the eggplant baked with anchovy and three cheeses (Berenjenas al Horno) . The eggplant contains very little in terms of personality as it is essentially becomes a tasteless mash as you cook it but the anchovy laced mixture gives it more than its every been. Quickly washed down with some Sangria, that once again is authentically served with chopped fresh fruit, we pummel forward. The albondigas de chorizo in a tart sweet and sour tomato sauce is unlike what you would normally savor elsewhere but is instead redolent with the intensity of the ground meat and chorizos rendered to a smooth consistency by what we can only imagine is created by hand chopping ground meat to a smooth paste.

There is likewise a selection of seafood that belies the fact that Spain is bordered on three fronts by waters from the Adriatic and the Mediterranean, as we press on with the smoked mackerel, it is the Tanguigue Ahumado sliced and layered, dotted with capers and drizzled with olive oil and the juice of lemon, as if its natural oils weren’t enough, but this is an example of how the local produce found its way into the restaurants menu, as the fresher fillets of Mahi Mahi fish prepared ala ceviche rolled with asparagus lend an entirely fresher flavor to the palate. The real piece de resistance, which can only come from Spain is the Angulas al ajillo, baby eels, simmered in olive oil and garlic with a generous helping of spicy hot peppers, the texture is very much like spaghetti not quite al dente but bordering on raw-ness, but with a more firm rubbery texture and a flavor unlike any other fish as it is at once earthy and undoubtedly a swimmer.

More Sangria pours on as we go lower down this spread of goodies, while lost in conversation about  the old La Mancha in Magallanes Village. It would seem so apt that an area named after the first European to come to the islands would be host to one of the most visible landmarks dedicated to one of the most touching stories from Spain, Don Quixote de la Mancha. When it was built in 1975, it was a monument to Seňor de Alba with its majestic windmill slowly turning and underneath, the club where the well heeled would savor his concoctions. At the time, the only other restaurants that came anywhere near what he accomplished would have been the Reina Castilla by the Astral group, and Minggoy’s, but alas, this would pass on to become the British club, and soon enough, the construction of the interchange, came the demolition one by one of the heritage sites in the area, from the astrobowl, to the Magallanes theater and finally the windmill of La Mancha. “. . . He would spend hours looking at the windmill and reminiscing about the good times there. . “ Cachelle related to us, “ . . good thing the owner of the restaurant allowed him to sit there looking at the windmill before it was torn down.”. Representations were made with the owners of the land to preserve it as a landmark but it fell on ears that were not deaf but had more commercial thoughts so some of us just remember what it was like to have our won windmill in the city. Still, it is not the monuments that one remembers about a man but in this case, his food, and this simply lives on.

So typical of Spanish cuisine is the preservation of meat, traditionally used to flavor stews and other concoctions, such as the sausage or salchichon, would be a heavily seasoned tube of select meat, herbs and spices; and of course, the jamons, that remain a fixture in most Filipino homes, even before any of the restaurants famed for the hams came into existence. This was the difficulty of the de Alba’s when finding this integral ingredient in Spanish cooking. Miguel tells me that they now have their own commissary in Mandaluyong that prepares the hams and cold cuts, which is an assurance of authenticity, consistency and the delivery of the tasty tidbits that go into the creations at the restaurants. On this spread we are treated to spectacular views of entire jamon serranos, morsillas, chorizo de bilbao, chorizo botifara and salchichon, all home made to the exacting Alba taste. “ . . we supply to some of the other Spanish restaurants and five star hotels” quips Miguel “ . . secret na lang where  . .” sheepishly with a naughty smile, and we surely understand. At the Polaris address, the deli opens at 0800 and that early on there are shoppers for the cold cuts that are churned out by Alba’s commissary.

As we polish off the last of the tapas, the Tortilla Espanola, which is simply a layered omelets of potato and egg, sprinkled with some parmesan and parsley, this is eaten hot or cold but all too often, we get an overcooked dry cake, this is still silky smooth in texture with the flavor of egg and potatoes dancing delicately against each other; and the final item, their equivalent of pizza, Coca de Berza y Chorizo, which is the Majorcan pie with local pechay leaves, (yes, pechay!) cheese and chorizo likewise taken either hot or cold; the final pieces in the puzzle come into the picture. It is the eternal Spanish favorite, cochinillo and paella.

The choices of paella may have been so limited in the olden days, as paella valenciana was pretty much it, with the flavors of chicken, pork and seafood blended in the now familiar dish. Originally though, paella was made from whatever wild meats were available, from rabbit to deer and consequently, the national dish of Spain re discovered its reincarnation into what it is today. At the Alba’s, there are generally three choices, the standard, and by this I mean not an ordinary variety, but the standard by which all other paellas are compared against, to the Paella Negra, “ . . the Japanese love this . .” which is made with the squid ink resulting literally in a black colored dish, and then there is the Paella Verde for the vegetarian made with asparagus, broccoli and even cooked with a vegetable broth. The flavor really comes from the agglomeration of different ingredients bound by one common thread, saffron. This unique pustule creates a texture that surprisingly covers every grain of rice in a slimy texture that yet allows the flavors to be locked into each grain. Never mind that it costs over US$ 200 a lb. for the premium, there is simply no substitute for it and is one of the few ingredients that Alba’s continues to use without compromise. The Paellas always take time to cook. Whichever way you look at it, it still takes 20 minutes to cook rice to perfection, and another 5 minutes to allow the natural starches to form a shell around the mixture so that you can spoon out every grain with nothing sticking to the sides of the paellera.

Unlike in the lonely planet where many times, the guest traveler prefers to imagine what something tastes like, the cochinillo is unparalleled in its presentation, that you can’t resist tasting it. It arrives splayed on a paper wrapped tray, resplendent in all its crisp and rich appearance. In Ristorante Botin, they give you a serving spoon because you can literally cut it with a spoon, in some other restaurants in Manila, they chop it with a plate, but at Alba’s please, give me a civilized knife, fork and don’t splatter anything on my shirt. It’s still unbelievably soft on the inside and crisp on the outside. The seasonings a secret, the flavor a secret discovered. Although, they do serve a small portion of the liver based sauce, it isn’t really necessary as the delicate flavors of young suckling pig shine right through. Typically, you would want a piglet about 4 kgs. So that would demand a mere two and a half weeks or 17 days old to have just the right amount of fats, meat and before the bones start getting too hard. Traditionally baked in a wood burning oven, it is cooked slowly to ensure the skin’s crispiness and allow the underlying fats to just melt away. From Segovia, to the world, to Alba’s Ristorante, a gift of satisfaction.

Who knows how long this legacy will remain? What wonders still lie waiting to be found in Alba’s coterie of different recipes? We only know this, if you want to know what Spanish food really is, Vamos a comer a Alba’s.

Open everyday for lunch and dinner, check out the lunch buffets in their branches and dinner exclusively at the Tomas Morato Branch.

Bistro group outlets

Busy at the Bistro group

 

The origin of the word Bistro is always a matter of discussion around any table. The reality is that it is merely a casual eatery that serves homey dishes and wine. . . . an abbreviation for the word bistrouille, a word used in northern France for a mixture of coffee and brandy. . . (The Encyclopedia of Food" by Jacques Rolland and Carol Sherman) much like what would be served in a a french roadside eatery favoring whatever local produce is available at the time, and on that day. Others on the other hand say it comes from a Russian word, pronounced similarly and more often shouted “BISTRO!” meaning quickly as is typical of the service you can find in any bistro today, quick , crisp and tasty. David Wilhelm, President of Culinary adventures calls bistro cuisine as French comfort food, satisfying and straightforward. Wherever the word may have come from, it certainly has started a trend worldwide to denote fast, flavorful and fun food for the family to enjoy. 

As we plan the rounds we make in this selection we realize that the four major continents of the Americas, Asia, Europe and Australia are represented and this series will be pretty much like circling the globe to know what its like to have a taste of the world but right in our own backyard.

We take our first bite into the seafood pleasures of Fish and Co. then do a quick switch into the All-American muscle of TGIFriday’s where everyday is Friday’s, mythical land of more than just burgers and fries as we shall soon see when we find out what new things lie in store for us there. Outback steakhouse takes us to the land down under, right in the American heartland. Its an American ‘s dream mates! And finally we go back to the slicked back hairstyles, and American Italian flavor of Italiannnis where the taste of Europe has met its match in the American Appetite for excess.

Balmy Breezy Badian

Balmy Breezy Badian

Text by Carlos Maglutac

It’s 7:30 p.m. and night envelops us as we get into a fiberglass banana boat. The small engine sputters against the silence and the darkness of the night. Now I know what every navy seal feels traveling in silence, in darkness, guided only by the moonlight that glitters on the surface of a calm sea, the stars twinkling across the night sky, reflecting against the black sheet that is the ocean, disturbed only by the surreal glow of gas pressure lamps from single hull canoes fishing for squid. Each boat has one fisherman, tending a net. Our little boat purrs by, as the short 10 minute ride makes the crossing and arrives at a wooden pier jutting out from a sparsely lit white sand beach, the unbroken line crossed only by the occasional gas powered torch set on a bamboo pole, creating a line of light that reflects on the tables set on the beach.

I know it’s late and this trip was plagued with delays from the cab into the airport to the flight itself and the unusual traffic in Lapu lapu city. Then again just before Moalboal when we have a flat tire, the expected arrival at the pier at 4 extended to 7 p.m. But at last, just within my reach is the pier and as I disembark onto it, Ryan Rosell, their Front Office Supervisor, in his floral printed shirt and white pants greets me “Aloha, welcome to Badi-an!” and instantly all the pain and aches of the long trip drift away, and as a lei of kalachuchi is hung around my neck it works like a magic wand that dissipates the tension clinging to my body.

To you sweetheart, aloha

This is Badian Spa and Resort, where a simple greeting on your arrival with a sincere smile takes you right into the heart of the islands charm. No wonder it was chosen as one of the 10 best spas in the world for 2006 by Asian Spa magazine, obviously, not just for the facility but the conduct of the resort. As I hear my first aloha, I know that this visit holds some magical promise as the greeting can mean so much. Aloha in the Hawaiian language means affection, love, compassion, mercy, goodbye, and hello, among other sentiments of a similar nature. In olden days and in some instances specially among the elders, Hawaiian put their foreheads together and say "alo," and then breathe out saying "ha," thus literally facing and exchanging their life’s breath. And as, I step out onto the beach, I feel life’s breath coming back to me.

Palau my Bali Ha’I

Most people live on a lonely island, Lost in the middle of a foggy sea.

From the song from South Pacific about Bali Ha’I the words echo all about the enchantment of the sea and the call of a paradise lost in the mists of the ocean. This is probably the dreamiest of all fantasies that has ever plagued modern man. In the Micronesian chain of islands lies what may well be the dream of living in this lonely island. Far from the typhoon belt where the balmy breezes of the tropics blow, we first visit Palau, in the West Carolinas islands, 1 and a half hours away by plane from Davao city, to find out what dreams it offers, what lonely walks we will take to find paradise.

  The route to Palau that we’ve taken is via Asian Spirit originating from Manila. Courtesy of the British Aerospace BAE 146-200, it’s the most compact of all jets traversing the ASEAN route. Also called the whisper jet because of the reduced noise levels whilst onboard. We noticed that when we boarded and were shuffled right into the middle of the aircraft with a great view of the engine mounted on a high wing above the fuselage. The beauty of this jet is that needs barely 500 meters to take off or land so this aircraft is so popular in short city to city trips typical of the travel to and from Palau. You can hop on in Manila or even in Davao city where the recently opened Davao International Airport certainly meets world class standards. We found the Immigration and Customs counters at Davao less harried and daunting than Manila’s so it might be a good idea to try it out. Catch any of Asian spirit’s flights on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays and return back next day at 0530.

  Kadoi Ruluked of the Palau Visitors Authority tells us of the Babadoab or the big island which is where the airport is leading into Koror and we learn that Palau is filled with day and night life that will offer activity for any persuasion. The attraction however, is the islands in all their natural glory. As with any city, there is a beehive of community life, basketball and baseball being the primary diversions of this island’s life.

   The Palau Pacific sits on the Western shore of the Arakabesang island in Koror and is reputed to have one of the best sunsets on the island. Its 160 guest rooms offer both Ocean and Garden views and includes all the amenities you can expect from a first rate 5 star hotel. Its collection of suites allow families and couples or individuals to enjoy a vast expanse of space in a tropical inspired décor with a full kitchenette allowing food preparation for the long staying guests. The interiors are decked with along the walls with wallpaper inspired by Palauan décor reminiscent of the storyboards which are the typical handicraft here of scenes from daily life of fishing, boats, all manner of fish and tropical isles with palm trees waving in the breeze.

Bali Ha’i will whisper, In the wind of the sea . .

I awake the next morning to rustling bushes just outside our veranda and as I look out a couple of dogs, native variety are playing just outside in the manicured lawn under the coconut trees. It’s a crisp quiet morning in Palau, the gentle surf lapping up against the rocks. Off in the distance the boat pier has a 30 foot yacht sitting quietly as what appears to be a crew is loading crates of consumables onboard. The garden is clean and green and the breezes balmy. In the room, complimentary coffee is brewing in the bar and we get ready for our first full day in Palau.

 If you try, you’ll find me Where the sky meets the sea.

Chef Kamoshida  started out as a kitchen hand in one of the smaller restaurants in Japan, peeling onions and potatoes because of a specific need to be in and around the kitchen. He fondly recalls the blooming of the cherry blossoms as a special time during his stint at the world famous Hotel Okura until he opened his own restaurant, the Courtyard where he first let his French leanings take over. This is apparent in the sauces that are laid out with each buffet spread at the coconut terrace. The creamy reductions used for the fish, as well as the profusion of breads, croissants that accompany each spread.  Soon after he was part of the pre opening of the Westin in Tokyo before finding himself in the catering operation for the Narita International.  This will be his first time at a Pan Pacific property and he finds it one of the most satisfying of his stints what with the location and the relaxation and pace of life that is the custom in this part of the world.

"Here am I, your special island! Come to me, come to me!"

  Another day in paradise greets us with an overcast sky, low clouds hanging overhead but the ocean clear as ever, with fish swimming in and around the pier as we make our way to our transport, a 15 foot fiberglass boat, quite unlike the banca common to Philippine waters. Our captain, a Cebuano, JR outfitted in a crimson red Dive Palau shirt, blonde streak hair welcomes us aboard. As we shove off, it isn’t a “put-put-put” motor but instead a Suzuki 250 cc outboard that roars to life and quickly picks up speed as head straight out into the open water, the many little coves whizzing by. The ocean air is cool and brisk as the speedboat cuts across the waves undulating with a steady flup flup. We enter an inlet that winds through some smaller islands and opens up into a small bay where a floating dock filled with other speedboats sits off in a distance. As we approach a large sign announcing Sam’s Tours is the indication that we have arrived at our jump off point to visit the number one attraction of Palau, the Rock Islands.

    The mandatory snorkeling booties, mask and snorkel are issued off to one side of the facility where a mini warehouse is managed by Ramil (another Filipino) who give us just the right size equipment. The few early birds at the Bottom Time Bar and Grill wave us a quick bye-bye, as if knowing where we’re going and we just do a quick wave as we head to the floating dock onto our boat, a much bigger 20 footer where there awaits our captain JR and our tour guide Jason, native to North Yap, specifically Unithy island where he says there are a total of 30 inhabitants, Therese and Chris, band members of The Avatars out of Detroit, Trevor, an intrepid sailor (he literally sailed into Palau on his yacht) and Liz, petite Intel marketing associate from Mexico. This motley crew of travelers makes up our group and Jason, having established himself as pretty outgoing for a small islander keeps us thrilled as we leave the dock and head out to where the ocean meets the sea. You can’t miss it because the color of the water is different, this is where the emerald green sea meets the dark blue hue of the Pacific Ocean. The waves come in hard and fast as the boat bounces up and suddenly slams hard but the boat just keeps pace with the current as we head towards our first destination, the Milky Way.

  If you try, you’ll find me, Where the sky meets the sea.

The Milky Way cove is tucked away in between a series of islands that shelter it from the outside. As we enter that cove, it’s clearly a hidden refuge concealed between high walls and sheer cliffs. The walls themselves have barely any vegetation and the sea bottom is an even white just clouded over by the clear emerald green sea. I can hear it as clearly as if it just happened yesterday, Jason says “OK everybody, dis our fuhst stop. Milky Way! I go down bring some mud up . . .” and he’s overboard. Before any of us have a chance to don our gear he’s back up with a handful of what appears to be a smooth paste almost white, but not quite, that feels smooth to the touch. Volcanic activity and the rain weathered the limestone at the top of these islands which slowly trickled down onto the sea bottom. The emerald green clarity of the water tends to deceive the 7 to 8 foot depth and as we jump off we’re told we don’t need our masks as there really is nothing but a vast expanse of white to see. We dutifully smear the paste all over our bodies as it cools us down and slowly we cover ourselves from head to foot in this mud. Although it has not been scientifically proven, we hear that the mud cleans out the skin and gives the islanders their smooth complexion.

  Next stop our first coral garden snorkel. About ten minutes from the Milky Way is a Lily’s coral garden tucked between two lager islands where the current is relatively strong. They caution us to drop off in one area and the boat will meet us on the other side. This is where the water is a deep cobalt blue belying the seeming shallowness because of the clarity of the waters. We dive off into a garden of stag horn coral, so named because of how the growth is like deer antlers in shades of blue, brown, and bright green in some spots. The current is in fact strong, but we get our first taste of the profusion of animal life in these Pacific isles. The profusion of damsels living in and among the corals is breathtaking and soon enough we have to get off as the current drives us toward the deeper end of this abyss, which really is a primary cliff dive spot, and if I heard it right, discovered by Malahi, a veteran tour guide of the islands.

  All this time, the overcast skies remain as they are, allowing just enough sunlight to come through, we putter along at a comfortable pace, the twin Yamaha outboards barely exerting effort as we arrive at Clam City. It is a privately owned island where clams literally litter the entire area surrounding the shore and deeper as we dive off into the deep blue. The clams synthesize sunlight through minute pores in their meaty innards, and as you pass over them casting a shadow, they shut, just a shudder at first and then often completely. The metallic hues of brown, blue and green are algae growing in their tissues that help synthesize the sun’s energy. Likewise a filter feeder, this clam also provides sustenance as a food item in some restaurants although frowned upon by many Palauans and conservationists.

  All along the trip on the way to the famed Jellyfish Lake we pass various other sites like Yahoo island, so named because of an ad for Yahoo shot there, then there’s the as yet unnamed arch island, until we finally have our lunch at Ngermaus Island. It’s just a packed lunch but a welcome respite from the all morning boat ride. As we find that the sandy bottom is a pre cursor to a slow steady incline towards the deeper part of this reef where shark spotting is the pastime. We sit on the beach and make our way towards the deeper part of the reef. On either side are coral formations that shelter the sandy beachfront. Off in a distance you see first just silhouettes of what appear to be streamlined fish darting in and about until you notice the telltale signs of black tips on their tails and caudal fins. The sharks are here! In spite of the closeness of the shoreline, our hearts leap into our throats as one swims head-on towards you and swiftly darts back into the deep. Fearing that we may become fodder for the predators we climb back aboard the boat as his is not what we came here for. JR and Jayson both tell us that they know of only one incident of shark attack in Palau, as the sharks that come into the reefs here are well fed and rarely enter this area to feed. Palau is where the schools of hammerhead were first seen and continue to visit occasionally to breed or to hang out, but certainly not to feed.

  After lunch we head straight into Mercherchar Island (mer – kar – kar or something close to that) into the largest and the only visited landlocked saltwater lake locally known as the Ongeim’l Tketau or Jellyfish Lake, one of over 70 inland lakes but the only one where tourists are allowed to explore. For thousands of years, the jellyfish trapped within these lakes have had no natural enemies with the exception of predatory anemones that prey on the hapless ones that come close to the shoreline along the mangroves or deep enough into their waiting arms. They thrive on the micro algae that grow within their soft tissues and consequently, the stinging nematocysts, normally associated with jellyfish have all but disappeared. Enough of the small talk though, as we approach the island lake, a wooden pier is the only indication that this attraction exists. We climb up a steep incline on limestone steps that are certainly not man made but have through the years have evolved in to a path that visitors follows. There are sharp outcrops of limestone rocks that could easily hurt you as they are jagged but with a little care, we have become witness to this unbelievable site, first discovered in 1982 and subsequently opened to the public in 1985. Incredulous as it may seem, when we descend on the dock, and swim towards the center of the lake, there are at first, just a handful of dime and quarter size jellyfish, glowing pink in the backdrop of the green hued lake. As it turns out, it is to our good fortune that we came to visit on an overcast for as the sun peeks from out of the clouds, a sudden outburst and profusion of jellyfish life assaults us. The instinctive reaction is to evade but with the multitudes just floating up towards the surface, undulating as if they were in some trance like dance, there’s no avoiding them and we touch them stiff as hard Jell-O but still pulsing. We feel more like space walkers rather than snorkels. The first instinct is to evade but in the midst of millions, there’s just no avoiding them and one just gets immersed into their world. They come up from the bottom where there is no oxygen and the hydrogen sulfides settle in the lake settle. As the sun traverses the sky, they follow it pulsing and turning themselves evenly to let the algae grow evenly. The only colors you see are those of the algae growing in their soft tissues. The surreal sight can’t be described in words that would do with any justice. Although Palau is widely known as the only site with this kind of wildlife, there is news of one such lake in Kakaban Indonesia which has yet to be confirmed. The proof in the surreal nature of this lake is hard to put into words. YouTube would have some confirmation of just how bizarre Jellyfish lake is.

  The afternoon extends as we make one last stop at Cemetery Reef where dramatic shoals of yellow tailed fusilier are about as hand tame as they can get. Congregating towards the first boat that comes along, JR and Jason take turn throwing out the bits of meat and fish we left behind at our lunch and the fish emerge from the depths. Cemetery reef is so named because of the growth of the coral which seem to form tombstones when viewed at a certain angle. It is reputed to be a major congregation area for spawning of different fish varieties from grouper to snapper to others.  The Napoleon Wrasse must be one of the bigger residents of this area and we have one threatening to swim right into the school of Yellowtails and she cuts a path that the smaller fish give way to. This particular Napoleon wrasse tips in at least a meter across and about half a meter tall, with its menacing beak is truly regal in its stature. A large Hawaiian triggerfish or as it is known in Hawaii, the humuhumu-nukunuku-a-pua‘a said as it is spelled is the only one that bothered to take a big bite out of a chicken bone, and we could see clearly the bone crushing jaws at work. A trigger would normally be able to turn a sea urchin on its back exposing its soft center which it pecks with a single blow breaking the urchin’s protective shell so it can have its fill.

    Someday you’ll see me floating’ in the sunshine, My head sticking’ out of a low lying cloud,

  So come, visit and see Palau, thrice weekly connections from Manila and Davao via Asian Spirit.

Ever heard of the Chateau group?

 The Chateau group
n : an impressive country house (or castle) in France

In 1988 along the art deco and hip spots on Adriatico, a small bistro opened with glass doors and windows reminiscent of the glass houses so typical of the chateaus in France opened as Chateau 1771. They opened up directly onto Adriatico st. and welcomed the revelers of every persuasion, from regular habitués of the artsy tartsy set, to the gender befuddled As was the custom at the time, it opened and positioned itself as a small little hideaway with culinary treasures that more often than not were creations of the owners taste. This is where corned beef sinigang first came into the Filipino palate. You take a typically English dish like boiled corned beef, half expecting a serving with cabbage and potato, perhaps a bit of horseradish to help awaken the different curing agents used in creating that slab of beef brisket, but, steep it instead into a sour soup of sinigang and voila! You have it, the original dish which to this day finds itself in the menus and standard fare in most Chateau group operated restaurants, as well as quite a few other locations which, sadly come nowhere close to this original invention.

Alas this gem is now gone and all you see is a remnant of the glass enclosure which once displayed Manila’s society set, in all their glorious finery, glasses clinking and the warm glow of incandescent lighting reflecting against the walls and amidst the conversation.

The Chateau group is open at mealtimes, and often late after that, everyday.

Quebengco - Maridable, their own little kingdom in La SAlle

This is the short version of the issue. The only document I make reference to is the Faculty Manual issued to all teachers and I have the 2005 edition, the latest one. This is a document (more like a booklet actually) agreed upon between the Faculty Association of DLSU and officers of DLSU namely, Bro. Armin- Pres., Ms Quebengco - EVP, Allan Bernardo (then VP for Academics - VPAR), Agnes Yuhico (AVP for Academics) and the Deans of each college.

Its all about how a couple of top management officials of La Salle, openly and flagrantly break the rules within the school, in total disregard of the agreed procedures, treating the campus like their own little kingdom. I think they’ve finally startred believing in their own infallibility.

OK Here goes:

1. I am a probationary full time professor designated as Instructor 8 at DLSU. My term as a full time professor began on SY 2004-2005 although I have been teaching at DLSU on part time basis since Sep 1996. As such, I am employed on a contractual basis. As a probationary professor, my contract requires review at the end of the contract to determine whether it will be renewed, not renewed, or if I am promoted to a permanent position based on the Faculty Manual.
2. Last July, the current VPAR, Julius Maridable, requested a recommendation from my Dept. Chair, Dr. Jimmy Ong, with regards to myself since my contract was expiring May 28, 2006. Dr. Ong, formulated the recommendation which recommended renewal of my probationary contract for another year and this was sent back to the VPAR. The VPAR returned with a letter rejecting Dr. Ong’s recommendation due to 3 hours unmade up absences. Dr. Ong, after discussing with me, replied with a request for reconsideration citing my substantial compliance with the other criteria for renewal contained in the Faculty Manual. This was once again rejected by VPAR on the same grounds.
3. I wrote the VPAR requesting that the Renewal Board to review my contract be convened as it is the authority that will determine what action should be taken on my probationary contract, citing specific clauses in the Faculty Manual. VPAR wrote me back citing that other Par. in the manual regarding expiring contracts and reiterating his non approval of Dr. Ong’s recommendation. I spoke with Dr. Ricardo Puno - President of the Faculty Association who said he views these developments with concern and he would take this up with the VPAR.
4. Dr. Puno spoke with VPAR and was informed that the VPAR had no intentions of convening the Renewal Board totally against the procedures required in the Manual, after which Dr. Puno, spoke with EVP Quebengco about the matter among other things that he discussed with her. The EVP did not give any comment.
5. At this point, it was already early May and Dr. Puno informed me that the VPAR would consider convening the Board if I would waive my rights to 30 day notice about non renewal of my contract, to which I agreed. On May 11 (or thereabouts), Dr. Ong, Mr. Rene Hapitan - Vice Dean (acting in behalf of then Dean Dr. Michael Alba for the College of Bus. & Eco.), Dr. Luisa Delayco, and Mr. Benison Cu representing the Faculty Assn. were convened as a group to consider the recommendation of Dr. Ong to renew my probationary contract. They unanimously agreed to extend for one year, and I was subsequently informed by Dr. Ong of their decision on the same day.
6. Sometime in June 2006 I received a letter from EVP Quebengco, informing me that they had agreed to my request to convene the Renewal Board and the University has decided to re-engage my services for one trimester to which I should affix my conforme in a space provided. I told the lady who brought the letter, Edith, that I was under the impression that the Faculty Manual specifically stated that subsequent renewals for probationary full time professors would be for one year. I nonetheless signed the document. Note that I was not furnished a copy of the Decision sheet regarding this Renewal Board’s decision as requried under the Manual.
7. Sometime in July, I received the contract referred to which had a transmittal letter requesting I sign it ASAP, and I noted that the contract end date was August 28, 2006. I informed Dr. Puno about this and expressed my concern about the term. He informed me that I should not sign it because it goes against the rules set forth in the Manual, specifically that subsequent renewals should be on an annual basis and that he would discuss this matter with the EVP.
8. Sometime after that, the office of VPAR started calling Dr. Ong, Dr. Puno of the FA and the office of Dean Myrna Austria opf the College of B&E to convene as a renewal Board to consider my contract. Dr. Ong, was surprised with the sudden-ness as he had not prepared a recommendation which should normally precede the convening of the Board. Dr. Puno, speaking on behalf of the FA informed the VPAR that they would not send a rep because the contract to be reviewed contravened the rules of the Faculty Manual as a result this Renewal Board never convened.
9. On July 20, 2006 I received a letter from the VPAR office requesting me to sign the contract on or before July 28, 2006. On July 27, 2006, I received a letter from EVP Quebengco informing me about the my non-signing of the contract, and notifying me that my employment with the University would cease on Aug 28, 2006 and that my last paycheck would be paid via check upon completion of my clearances.
10. I was advised by Dr. Puno to sign the contract stating that he did not wish for me to be caught on a technicality due to non signing of the contract. I did sign the contract and forwarded the same to the office of EVP Quebengco on July 28, 2006, with a transmittal letter requesting the Renewal Board to be convened after the forthcoming recommendation of my Chair Dr. Ong was made and sent. EVP Quebengco wrote me on Aug 2, 2006 citing errors in the dates I indicated in my transmittal and citing errors and erasures in the various communications that I have received, and reiterating her notice of the end of my contract.
11. Dr. Puno once again spoke to EVP Quebengco about my case and he informs me that he was told by EVP Quebengco that they were inclined not to renew my contract and not to convene the Renewal Board to review my contract based on “Management Prerogative”. Dr. Puno felt that he was powerless to do anything or make any further representation on my behalf because of this statement by EVP Quebengco.
12. Nonetheless, I spoke with Dr. Ong and told him that his recommendation was the first step if the Dept. wished to renew my probationary contract with DLSU based on the rules in the Faculty Manual and he agreed to issue his recommendation. This was sent to the office of the VPAR on Aug 7. No reply has been received todate.
13. On Aug 16, I called the office of the VPAR to inquire about the recommendation of Dr. Ong and was informed by one Lydia that Zony of the office of the EVP was handling that and she would transfer my call there. The transfer failed so I took the liberty of speaking with Zony who informed me that she thought this issue was finished and that my contract would not be renewed, and that adequate notice was given to me by virtue of EVP Quebengco’s letter. I told her our appreciation of the letter referred to was that it was a notice of the end of my contract, thus Dr. Ong issued his recommendation because the Dept. wished for me to continue as an Instructor at the Dept. and we only followed the rules as stated in the Faculty Manual in this regard. At all times Zony was careful to say that she was only a messenger and could not make any decisions.
14. Some discussion continued and I requested Zony if I could set an appointment with EVP Quebengco to know the reasons behind this “Management Prerogative” they were exercising and she informed me that EVP Quebengco was a very busy person indeed and that she herself would have to resort to Text messages and email to even talk to EVP Quebengco so it would be out of the question to see her.
15. So I wrote a memo to the VPAR making specific references to the Faculty Manual requesting that the Renewal Board to review my expring contract be convened in as much as the Recommendation has been issued. I specifically cited that this is a second request for it 16. I received a letter from the VPAR today in response to my request, making reference to the Aug 7 letter of the EVP, no other comments.

I am now going to write a Notice of Grievance against this King and Queen of la salle, who rule malevolently, with a brazen disregard for the rules they agreed to. How terrible to realize how they openly flaunt their power over others, exercising dominion over the lives of the teachers, playing with the futures of these people who ask for nothing but a vow to nurture minds towards a productive life in the mold of St. La Salle. In fact, this little King hiding behind the power of the Queen’s skirt, without even extending the dignity of an explanation nor even the guts to confront and face me squarely like a man.

So now, that’s the story, and I think that if they continue to disregard the rules and prcedures in the Faculty Manual, I will have live with the shame of saying I no longer teach there because . . I don’t know. . . management prerogative. To this day, I do not know the reasons for their refusal to convene the Board, nor the  basis for this Management Prerogative for not convening the board. All I know is, the King and Queen have done it again.

Atin ko Pong singsing (a novel) part 3

Tiyo Doring impatiently tapped the french crystal wine glass with his fork exclaiming “Saguli, Saguli mo!” (Just a moment!!) “I have an announcement to make, on my travels around Europe, i have seen the wonders of the world, from chauffer driven cars to the magic of modern medicine. I’ve dined in the most expensive restaurants and  . . ” with a quick wink of the eye, ” . . . and on the most expensive and beautiful women the world has to offer!” as dirty chuckles and gasps from the ladies present interspersed with the sound of silver on ceramic. As Dorito continued ” . . but nothing, nothing in this world can compare with the pleasure of being back home, so I am glad to be back, and to see my father Mariano, my brother Tomas, and of course, my mother, Mama? cheers to all of you! and Pepang? Pepang? Nokarin i Pepang (where is Pepang?)”

As he sat on his place on the right of Impong Ano, he was met with applause from the thankful guests at this homecoming. There was Mayor Honorato Sanchez of San Fernando, family friend and always available for consultation to the family. After all, when he had shot his main contender for that post, Pablito Calma, in the back, Impong ano accepted him into the safety of the mansyon providing an all night alibi for his whereabouts. Next to him, Conchita Benitez Yap, eldest daughter of the Immaculada rice millers in Tarlac, reputed to be the richest trader in Tarlac and inveterate Monte player, playing high stakes at their family run brothel in Concepcion. There was Severina Santos, Tomas mother-in-law, unwavering in here full regalia, head held up high and seemingly looking down on everything and everyone, she was after all richer than the Paras clan combined; decked out in here saya, made from hand woven piña (pineapple) all the way from Laguna. It had taken three months just to complete the bolt of cloth and another month and a half to transport it to Pampanga but on Sepia (that was her monicker) it carried the bearing of royalty. Mercedes, or Dedeng was quite unlike her mother, while Sepia had that unmistakeable aire of old old rich, her daughter was sweet, innocent, and constantly smiling at everyone. This what Tomas had gotten into when his father arranged their marriage, and at the time was the most expensive of all marriages. They had imported the best bordeaux, special China from Manila, specifically ordered for throwing out of the window after dinner as this was the custom at the time to honor the couple (or guests for that matter) as a single event worth remembering by never using the same plate again. Never mind that there were actually maids outside with Nets catching and saving what they could from the thrown out China, usually just half of what was thrown out. Obviously inherited from one of the visits the family had made to Greece, and evolved into what they do now, but instead of breaking it in the house, just throw it out the window.

Rosa had been in the kitchen like a whirling dervish as early as 4 a.m. when they had to slaughter the snipes and the chicken, slowly bleeding them carefully and dipping in boiling water to simplify removing the feathers, supervising the cleaning of the pig’s carcass, making sure to keep the crayfish (ulang) alive in a a constant stream of clean water until just before cooking; as well as putting the finishing touches on the lengua con setas, her style, as the ox tongue was not bathed in some rich thick and creamy sauce, but rather a light colored but tasty concoction, almost like a marinade rather than something from a stew. You had to take this dish and let it cool before ladling equal portions of tongue, sausage (andouille, of course!), carrot, potato, leek into an individual size bowl then carefully topping that off with the dough of what would be a flaky pastry, with the crest of the Santos-Paras union artfullyh emblazoned on top of each lengua baked casserole. ‘

  (more…)

Why did Dan Brown do it?

Who knows what the motive of Dan Brown is aside from the commercial aspect. Most people said that upon reading the code, it had Harrison Ford written all over it. Perhaps he is an agent of the devil sent to make us question our faith. Perhaps his was simply to make a little money. When you think about the subject of the book, Jesus Christ reduced to a human being, I mean, that was the idea wasn’t it? For God to be personified in human form. Is this human form truly human through and through or just some tough leathery covering with thoughts totally controlled by a higher being? Did he get horny? Did he feel envy and jealousy? did he question even his own purpose for being on this earth?

As with most other books, I think Dan Brown is not questioning the Christian Faith but probably as is the case for all of us, trying to humanize the Christ so that he can identify with him more. Every imaginable anti Da Vinci Code book questions the veracity of his information, when right from Page 1 Dan Browm says that the book is largely a work of fiction,althouigh INSPIRED by factual information. INSPIRED. No matter how much you turn this around and work it over nad under, when you want to buy the book go to Powerbooks where do you find it? duh . . fiction . . . the same place you find, Star Wars and Dracula and Frankenstein, tick in John Grisham, Tom Clancy amd Stephen King. Why dont they get the flack from what they write.

M is for Marvelous

M is for Marvelous M restaurant at the Greenbelt
 

Different images fill my mind as I walk through the underbelly of Greenbelt 4 searching for the M restaurant fronting the Ayala Museum. It’s really a feast for the eyes to see exquisitely manicured gardens of acacia and bamboo, flat granite and clear serene pools where young lovers exchange seductive glances at each other. This part of Greenbelt is a forest-cum-ikebana creation that truly is a triumph of architecture in the heart of the central business district. As I take my measured steps towards the museum it strikes me, rising from the marshlands of Greenbelt. The M restaurant. It straddles the gardens of Greenbelt 4 on one side and Makati Avenue on the other; while the Ayala museum stands as a mute testament that art lives here. It’s a creation of stark contrast; from the glass and steel structure and the round woven spheres encasing the lighting, like giant boll weevil eggs shining in the dark night to the deep natural mystery of the gardens of Greenbelt. While the maitre d’ and servers prance around in their gray and black ensembles against a pure white backdrop of the interiors, the contrast is all around us as we sit on our mezzanine places anxiously waiting for the portent of contrasts to come.  
And come it does one after another in swift succession. Chef Sau starts us off on a refreshing salad of Arugula and Romaine Lettuce drizzled with a Lime and Olive Oil vinaigrette and sprinkled with toasted cashew. But this is not the star here; it is the pacific scallop, lightly browned on both sides. The sweetness of the scallops large as a silver dollar shares the limelight with the contrast of the sharp and spine tingling dressing. It is browned but not burnt. The texture retains the creamy fleshiness of fresh shellfish, which breathes the sweetness of the sandy beaches of the Pacific Ocean into a happy partnership of the two flavors.
 
“ . . . I remember those Christmases where my Dad wouldn’t be there because he had to cook for someone else’s family . . “ words that form part of the memories of Chef Sau who comes from a long line of chefs from his father to his grandfather who all were the legendary cooks of the renowned but now long gone area of Sulipan within the boundaries of Angeles, San Fernando, Bacolor and Lubao in Pampanga. This bittersweet and sharp recounting of childhood reminiscences reveals the personality that Pampango cooks have; they were dictators of the kitchen, temperamental and autocratic
 
And it is this bittersweet and sharp recounting that takes us to our next appetizer. Visualize red roasted prawn, peeled, deveined and butterflied; cooked to tender perfection sitting on juliennes of unripe tart green mango and mixed with sun dried tomato and peanuts. This combination arrests your palate wanting you to pout with each mouthful but the prawn evens the flavor out to allow a relieved appreciation of the inequity of the two flavors. We await with bated breath for the next course which first appears to be a play on something truly Asian, the fish ball, but in this case, it is catfish Kofta. To the uninitiated, a kofta is a Middle Eastern recipe that is usually a meatball minced to a smooth consistency sometimes mixed with soft bread (as a binder) and milk. This is not your usual starchy affair but a delectable sphere of minced catfish; but wait, this is where the twist comes in. these are skewered on lemon grass and fried. There is simply nothing standing in the way of the lemon grass releasing its flavor right into the kofta with promises of more good food to come.
 
The final piece in this initial jigsaw is a classic Foie Gras, which couples handily with a sweet sauce in this case, lychee accompanied by two pieces of this exotic Chinese fruit. Once grown only in China and reserved for aristocracy, but now available worldwide, the combination is pure unbridled pleasure with the toasted and nutty accents of an evenly seared goose liver. The fresh flavor of lychee serves to highlight the creamy texture of this exotic meat taken from a goose force fed with a special mixture of feeds that let the livers swell to marketable size.
 
Call what you will, confidence, cockiness, outright arrogance but wherever our pilgrimages take us, we often sit and wait for the delectations of the chef but tonight, Chef Sau indulges us and allows us to choose not from a special chef’s menu but straight from the standard fare for the night. We accepted the challenge with a combination of curiosity and dread.
 
Chef Sau started his career as a student of culinary arts in Europe and the flavors of classic cuisine brought him down the traditional road of chef patron to many prestigious hotels, which brought him, closer back to the East for a stint in Shanghai. This landed him right into the kitchen of the great Raffles hotel in Singapore.  The first selection is grilled Gindara sitting on a bed of poached Bok choi. This is drizzled with a teriyaki sauce accompanied by a generous heap of Wasabi paste strewn across the plate like a deftly manicured Japanese lawn. The presentation reveals the mastery of Chef Sau in the little nuances of Japanese cuisine particularly the proper way of spreading a little wasabi on the fish and then to dip the other side of the fish into the sauce so that it does not touch the Wasabi. It is all too easy to do this all wrong. You can overcook this delicate fish to a flaky dryness but as you would expect from a chef of this caliber, the fillet resists the resolute jab of cutlery with a tenderness that retains the freshness of the catch of the day. The sweet highlights of teriyaki serve to cushion the sting of the fiery green radish, and radiate the gentle fragrance of wasabi to bring out the flavor of fresh fish. In traditional Japanese cuisine, Wasabi is prepared by grating the fresh root  against a rough surface. Some Japanese Sushi Chefs will only use a sharkskin grater. The sharkskin gives grated Wasabi a smooth, soft and aromatic finish. The splendor of Wasabi is that its fiery flavor is not long lived on the palate and subsides into an extremely pleasant, mild vegetable taste that even people normally averse to hot food will enjoy
 
As luck would have it, we also had our share of rice for the night. A Wild mushroom Risotto prepared as a “wet” risotto unlike the pasty traditional types that you would find in most restaurants. It takes special attention so as not to allow the rice to form a congee-like structure. The Arborio variety of rice takes well to risotto because of its higher starch content. The wild mushrooms in this dish have an unexpectedly earthy flavor and this goes well with the Romano and the creamy consistency of the risotto. It’s quite surprising to realize that this dish started among the poor working class in Italy for rice cooked in any available liquid as a filler, until its present reincarnation worldwide. The term refers more to the technique of toasting the rice with the flavor before adding the rich stock. The three elements to a good risotto are a very well flavored stock, good quality rice and time, this is the one that was well worth the time it took to prepare. It arrived wet and creamy with the fragrance of grated Romano and a healthy sprinkling of parsley for a dish fit for the nobility.
 
Martin Wisniewski is more than just the maitre’d at M restaurant but is also the troubleshooter that ensures that you have a well-oiled machine at M. He has had a long love affair with food as far back as the famous (or infamous) Le Taxi at the Pan Pacific complex with hospitality whiz Luc Froelich. People would come far and wide to experience this outlet, and the atmosphere it lent to the otherwise drab and dry facility;
After that, it was onto the Marketplace food court at the corner of UN Avenue and Taft which, to put it mildly, was an experiment in the mass market which still does brisk business today. His latest foray into another mother of mass production, the food court at the Enterprise, displays an acumen for food service that has brought him through many paths that lead to the M restaurant today.
 
Thus far, the choices traverse the entire range of cooking skills from the intuitive demands of a grill to the rapt attention demanded by the risotto but now enters the piece de resistance’ of the night, that calls on all a chefs skills, the roast breast of duck in cherry sauce. The dish demands sensitivity, an eye for detail and technique honed by years of experience. In this department Chef Sau does not let us down. Medium rare duck requires between 8 to 9 minutes in a heated oven. A timer can cover this part but handling afterward is the real secret because a breast must rest. It allows the juices to filter into all the parts of the meat to keep it tender. Three equal slices set on gem lettuce hearts drizzled with the cherry and ginger sauce and you’re on your way. Perfectly washed down with a Chilean red for your own slice of heaven. You can taste the fresh cherries, red wine and fruit juices blending well with the natural sweetness of the duck and the crisp nuttiness of the skin.
 
Chef Sau joins us at this point to talk about how his past has brought him inevitably to the M restaurant today right after a triumphant stint at the Nuvo right in Greenbelt. This long history of cross-cultural exposure in the hospitality industry has seasoned his skills to an unyielding mastery of his domain, the restaurant. We finish the meal with a medley of desserts starting with the signature jackfruit sans rival that is truly without rival in the sharp taste of local jackfruit blending artfully into the creams and chilled pastry of the cake. The Choconut chocolate cake is like a shot of sugar induced hysteria what with the abundance of chocolate goodness from outside and within, but the scene stealer is a seemingly innocent trio of demitasse cups filled with what turns out to be a trio of crème brulee’. Each cup is topped with a piece of what appears to be random cuts of various items, one with the traditional twist of citrus, and the color of rich crème in the tradition of the leche crema of Sulipan. Leche crema is a turbocharged version of the traditional leche flan except it has twice the sugar, twice the eggs and usually twice the fun! A second cup has a sliver of ginger on a dark brown mixture. It is a chocolate ginger crème brulee; produced out of a marriage of dark chocolate and the squeezed essence of ginger. Like a child talking about his latest discovery Chef Sau retorts, “ . . you know, we had to experiment with literally hundreds of combinations . . . . many were really no good but this one stood out!”; and this certainly arouses the tongue to a seductive sensation of succulence in the chocolate. The third cup holds a finger chili (labuyo) sitting innocently on the rim of the cup. The inclusion of chili into chocolate may have been first encountered by many in the film Chocolat where a pinch of chili brings a breathe of life to a tired old body and this does not let us down. The first taste seems innocently like any dark chocolate jelly might but as it works its way down, the capsicum oils sit on the palate like a flame warming the entire tongue and before long the body that has just been blessed with this gift of victuals feels the heat.
 
You would think it ends there but Chef Sau like the veritable Pampango chef who takes pride in his creations suddenly articulates, “I made a durian panacotta!” with that disarming smile and as we all nod in agreement it arrives taking along a string of looks from the other patrons ranging from amused smiles to dagger looks of abhorrence. The durian is an exotic fruit indeed that you either love or hate. It grows from a tall ominous tree and is harvested by allowing it to drop into a safety net. Protected by an spiked armor skin, it is ready to eat when the protective armor starts cracking between the seedbeds. The strong scent (or odor to some) sticks to anything it touches specially on the hands but a little water in the seed cavity produces a milky solution that serves well as a hand wash that miraculously and completely removes any reeking aromas. With the light fresh flavor of the gelatin and the single seed of the queen of fruit sitting in the center of a presentation resembling a mini water trough my rapacious attack on the fruit reveals the range of emotions that accompany any serving of durian. In my case, self-indulgence.
 
Wherever those memories took him it certainly becomes a reflection of the Pampango chef’s jealous zeal of concealing his culinary secrets as he summarizes his treatment of the menu at M restaurant. “. . . I change the menu monthly but I have to be there and cannot just let anybody prepare the food . . .” Very much like the cooks for the Hacenderos of the time They would just throw in ingredients that was the right amount at the right time so the same dish never tasted exactly the same, and their secrets remained that way. At other times, they would send the assistants out of the kitchen when the cook prepared the sauces and other secret dishes. But this is the real secret behind any cook’s success and a restaurant’s immortality and this is where true culinary zeal exemplified the Pampango chef. Is it this creativity that follows the success of every chef or is it the respect for traditional ingredients and technique that holds the key? No matter, it is to our good fortune that we find Chef Sau at his element, holding the keys at the M Restaurant.
 
M restaurant is open everyday for lunch and dinner. Major credit cards accepted and reservations are recommended.
 
 
 
 
 

Ultraviolet sucks good

I just went ahead and watched Ultraviolet wtihmy son today and I realized, I didn;t care about the movie really, fromthe moment you look at Mila Jovovich, she is perfect. Auiline nose, almond shaped grey eyes, thin pouting lips, Her abs, not the dinner roll type but more the smooth buns that just rise perfectly above her navel and right into the curve of her pert breasts.  This is about the future when some virus spreads around the world and transforms a portion of humanity into hemophages. They roam the world with the slightest trace of caninies, and need blood to survive. WAIT, before you say not another vampire movie, they’re eyes do not turn red, nor do they fly or bite people’s necks. They are perfectly normal except for being infected with this virus.

FOr some reason, everybody has smooth skin. . . very smooth skin. Nobody sweats or bleeds in an ugly way. Everything is stylized in a perfection that puts everyon’s best view on film all the time. The (OK, I;m not finished yet)

Atin ko Pong singsing (a novel) part 2

For as long as he could remember, the packs of wild dogs that roamed that part of the countryside had been a permanent part of the landscape. They were a nuisance at worse, doing no more harm than scaring an occasional bird, “bayawak” or even a wild boar away from the areas. In a way they would keep the plantation clean by eating any dead or decaying animals. This time, the insistent snarling was different from what he normally would hear. There was a desparation and a savageness to the primeval grunts that the dogs were giving out. He saw the familiar baston of Impong Ano unceremoniusly thrown to one side of the clearing where the watering hole was and as he approached first the florsheim wingtips were apparent, and he thought the old patriarch had just fallen because of the steady jerking of his feet but then as his gaze rose above the legs, he saw what must have been four or five dogs, one spotted white chewing into Impong Ano’s groin while a brown female gnashed at his stomach. The others took turns biting into other parts of the old man’s body tearing whole pieces of meat which was what shook the old man. He had been nice to Marciano making special arrangements for his small wedding to Rosa which happened really very very quickly as if he was more interested in seeing them both married than they to each other. These were different times, the owners of the Plantation dictated all life on the estate. They often suggested, but more like decided, who would marry who, who would be the godparents, where they would live, who they worked for and what jobs they did.  It was the same for Marciano and Rosa, they were brought together at the mansion to face Impong Ano, in the sala. All he said was “Ini in maging asawa mu, Pakasalan mu. Ang singsing atchu ketah” pointing to a drawer beside the tiffany lamp still it by kerosene. He opened the drawer and found two silver bands. Simple but solid, and as he looked at his wife, instantly he understood, his destiny had been laid out for him. He was to be wed to Rosa. remain on the estate as a “sota” in charge of the stables, as his father was before him.

It was a simple wedding conducted in between masses at the Cathedral in the central town plaza. No other witnesses except Impong Ano, and Apopng Dedeng, wife of Tomas, eldest son and set to inherit the hacienda. The ceremony was so rushed that Marciano barely had a chance to kiss his wife who stil upto this time had not said a word since they first met, but instead met his gaze with a tired, and thankful look that needed no more explaining. Impong Ano stood as ninong, Tya Daleng eldest niece as Ninang while Dedeng and Tomas barely stepped into the church as witnesses as the parishioners were entering to participate in the annual Novena at the advent of Holy Week. Rosa took one quick glance at the entrance and saw that Tomas and Dedeng were gone, replaced by throngs of parishioners entering. The priest would be sending some papers for them to sign, perhaps even drop by for a little drink as tradition would dictate after a wedding where the richest man in San Fernando would stand as godfather, it is customary, food and drink, a culinary journey indeed. She adjusted her simple white veil and white cassock with a blue sash and stepped out onto the plaza with her new husband in tow.

It was too late before Marciano saw it, a big black one approaching, head down, mouth slavering with a bubbly and foamy mouth slowly, steadily picking up speed as it approached the mounted man and pounced jaws first into the neck of the horse. His last memory was how wonderful that day at the kubo was when they had their first meal together as a family. Rosa had come back as she usually did at about 8 or 8:30 by the clock and she had with her a bowl of beef stew, in one hand and some fresh eggs in the other. The hearth had just been lit and cast a healthy orange glow all around the hut, complementing the yellow glow of the kerosene lamp. She had set the kawali on the stove and proceeded to break the eggs into a bowl where Ano, her eldest son of four was beating them to make scrambled eggs.  With a little twist of the wrist, she put two tablespoons of the solid Purico cooking oil into the hot kawali, and as it melted away, a casual pinch of salt, almost two fingers full for a small woman of her stature, which immediately sent the salt crackling against the heat of the pan.  At that instant, the beaten eggs are poured into the kawali, and a deft combination of circular and cutting motion transformed ordinary eggs into the classic scarmbled eggs favored by the Santos Paras family. Rosa was prudent enough to cook just four  for her family, as normally she would work with 10 - 12 eggs in one go. As the eggs were divided among the family of Rosa and Marciano, he could still recall how the flickering light played very lightly on her milky white skin, blessed with smoothness inspite of the hard work.  . . . Thus did he die with that last memory of the face of his wife Rosa. All he heard as this moment flashed in his mind was a crack like a branch breaking from a nearby tree then one brief moment of excruciating pain on his nape as horse and rider fell together with this big black dog jaws clamped shut on the horse’s neck and then darkness. It was over.

Atin ko Pung singsing (a novel) part 1

The early morning sun shone brightly on this December morning as Marciano slowly worked his steed up to a smooth canter. The past season had been good to the current crop of cane growing lush,  green and tall under the San Fernando sky.  IN just thrity more days, it would be ready for the Sagadas to cut and bundle straight onto the carts that would bring it into the La Suerte Milling Corp’s new sugar plant. The Santoses had been good to him. Providing everything he and his new family would ever need. The new hut right beside the Apong Tomas’ mansion in the town plaza was perfect. A divider between the kusina and the bedroom prevented the smoke from their wood oven from entering the room and kept Rosa and their sons Maning and Susing from choking on the kindling wood that they used to cook their humble meals, usually of rice and whatever the main house had as Rosa would be working from dawn to dawn working on the feasts that the family would put on almost daily. She was just a helper in the kitchen and had started out shopping onions and pounding garlic then transferring them into a colander made from clay. The kusinera would unceasingly take literally bowls full of the chopped onions and garlic straight into the constantly burning hearth that resembled a volcano on fire. All manner of concoctions were prepared here, from the simple Pork Adobo, to the Pastel de Lengua demanding an eye for detail as the kusiera laid the soft and pliable dough over the stew and laid out decorations, sometimes, the initials S and P for Santos and Paras, an yet at other times, a butterfly indicating the crest of the family hanging at the main entrance of the mansion. This is really where Rosa learned the basics of cooking as her mother before her and apparently her grandmother as well.

Marciano blinked squarely into the sun as he always did and suddenly realized something was amiss. The normal cacophony of birds was strangely missing. Ordinarily, as the horse’s hooves pounded on the dirt track along each section of the plantation, crows, mayas and as is common this time of year, the snipes migrating from China would respond with their screeches and chirps, sometimes even an entire flock rising suddenly from the different watering holes located haphazardly around the plantation, would fly off in a flight path straight up into the sky. As he took a quick turn into one of the smaller paths leading into the watering hole, his mount slowed to a careful walk and then he saw it.  There it was. First just the sound of heavy breathing but as he approached, snarls of the type that one would see in the heat of a feeding frenzy were apparent. For as long as he could remember the packs of wild dogs that (more to come)