The Birth of Awesomeness!

Of all the special occasions in my life, my birthday would probably be the least I am eagerly anticipating.

The enthusiasm I have on my birthday is weirdly going downhill as I grow old. Maybe because it’s the realization that as you grow old, having your birthday celebrated means you’re the one who’s going to spend for it. There are no moms and pops that will give you a party and buy you a cake. No ninangs and ninongs giving you gifts. This is now the point in your life you realize that, as a grown-up, you are now responsible of making that day memorable.

So in the advent of my looming 25^th birthday, I realized that I have the choice to make it fun and unforgettable. That’s why when Patrick insisted that I should probably celebrate my birthday with another cookfest with the explocook gang, I texted Maggie right away if we can abuse her house again and she said yes. 

A Copycat's Take on a J. Oliver Recipe

Grilled Spatchcocked Chicken with New Potatoes and Asparagus in Herby Yogurt

This is based on a recipe of the same title
 from Cook with Jaime Oliver,  2006 Oct, UK.

I am one among millions of Jaime Oliver followers, because:

- I like the way he cooks: crude, disorganized in an adorable way;

- He has meltdowns. I do too. When it happens, he moves on, tries it again and makes it better. I don't; I stop and never go back, my dinuguan in 2002 is the perfect example;

- Aside from cooking, he plants, and; 

- I have always imagined ending up with a Filipino version of him (OH YES! I AM A DREAMER!). Instead, I got a mutated Larry Page stalker-in-denial, Michael Greer-wannabe, Andrew Dan-Jumbo in-the-making and a devout Ric Segreto fanatic who once cooked a very tasty chicken adobo on our second date and was never able to recreate it years after. I say, typical one-hit wonder.

Often when I serve meals I got from Mr. Oliver, most of my friends find it too “foreign” for their taste. When you have friends with tongue predisposed to eating saucy Spanish, salty Filipino, overcooked Tsinoy (Filipino-Chinese) food, all others are foreign.

Death By Chocolate ver 2

Death By Chocolate ver 2 with fresh mint leaves.

Everybody LIKES chocolate – somehow. No, don't shake your head in disagreement. As a hilaw na manga and bagoong-person (my soul tingles at the sight of green mango and sauteed salted shrimp fry), I would probably do the same if I hear that statement from someone else. But you have to admit, we all have chocolate fixes. Mine is a candy-coated dark chocolate with peanuts. Yes, Patrick, I agree that it is indeed a rip-off since the candy coating is relatively thick, there's too little chocolate in it and the peanut inside is more or less 400% bigger than an average-sized peanut in a Prinsesa pack. If you grew up in the Philippines, circa 80s to 90s, you probably know what Prinsesa is.

When Ryan asked for a chocolatier cake for his birthday, I knew I had to come up with something that will make his pores bleed chocolate and his eyes pop in overload.

I landed on Cacaoweb's Death By Chocolate which I consider version 1. It is a fairly simply recipe but it requires an oven. If you intend to make this, you do not need to buy an oven (yet, although it is a good investment); if you have friends who own one, visit them, bake and increase your pogi/ganda points.

Gusto ko ng baboy!

“My brother is not a pig!”, sobbed Nora Aunor in Minsan May Isang Gamu-Gamo to an American Serviceman who shot his brother who mistook him for a wild boar. The incident compelled Corazon de la Cruz (Aunor) to cancel her trip in the land of milk and honey to work as a nurse.

This scene was so powerful that aside from awakening my senses to the struggle of Filipinos against the Americans in the Philippines, also introduced me to the use of the word pig. Prior to that, the only pig I knew were the ones in the corral which my dad raised, but from thereon I got the liking of using pig or baboy in anything I find unacceptable- mostly on how people behaved.

Sun and Squash

The meaning of the word fest stays true to my friends who never seem to lose the energy to celebrate or come together for anything whenever, wherever. That Saturday was no different; in fact even more so because there WAS indeed something to celebrate. It appeared that even a mabangisnalobo can actually remember that he was turning a quarter-century old. I wanted to give him a “savagely fierce balloon”, but I don't know what it looks like so I ended up not getting him one.

I remember that I had my 'biggest' birthday celebration when I turned his age. I invited most of my friends and had a blast cooking for everybody. It’s nice to look back and realise that I've been cooking for years now, although not as often as I want to. And as years passed, all I was certain of is that being amateur and clumsy got nothing to do with age.  

Of Karl Marx, Tyler Durden (a.k.a. Edward Norton), Martha Stewart, a Whole Gamut of Isms, and my Own Meandering Experience

Artwork: batanggala; Images:theinspirationroom.com, coulaslourdes.com,
clker.com, flixster.com, utahstories.com, overgrownpath.com, arthursclipat.org

Tyler Durden: We're consumers. We are by-products of a lifestyle obsession. Murder, crime, poverty, these things don't concern me. What concerns me are celebrity magazines, television with 500 channels, some guy's name on my underwear. Rogaine, Viagra, Olestra.

Narrator: Martha Stewart.

Tyler Durden: Fuck Martha Stewart. Martha's polishing the brass on the Titanic. It's all going down, man. So fuck off with your sofa units and Strinne green stripe patterns.

Again, Martha Stewart- cook, artist, entrepreneur, innovator, prisoner. Now, that’s what you call a lady with balls. Man, if I were a she, I would be her. But, I reckon I don’t need some castration as lately, the dining table is slowly turning around as more and more hombre are staying in the kitchen more than the pub. Introducing a new breed of men- [drum roll please] the gastrosexuals! Think Gordon Ramsay or Jamie Oliver. You know, this new generation of men who can actually cook and uses their kitchen prowess and seduce prospective partners. Thus, a man donning an apron is no longer sissy but sexy. Woot woot.

La Bouche, Coming Home and The Night Jose Ruled Drunken Pinoy Henyo

When Portia came back from her Australia trip loaded with stories and photos, we gathered together along with a bottle of Pareng Jose (the tequila), tacos with homemade beef, cheese, chili and tomato dip, and a game of Drunken Pinoy Henyo (yes, "truth or dare" is now old school) and we came up with the idea of "cooking together". Since we are amateurs and with experience only of "cooking to satisfy our hunger" we have convinced each other that we want to be each other's "lab rat", an audience, a critic (of which we find ourselves really good at, in the most amusing way).

There, the idea of "cook fest" was born.

The first cook fest-cum-welcome dinner-cum-late birthday celebration for Portia ended up with a delightful meal of Balsamic Chicken and Pears, Banana Bread, Lemon Tuna Pasta, Ripe Mango Shake and Margarita.