BATTLE OF THE PHILLY CHEESESTEAKS! =D

I'm celebrating the return of the Travel & Living Channel on Destiny (the only cable wiring available in House Pioneer, and so....=( ). Ever since I moved in, it has always been my default channel--up until it disappeared after Starworld and AXN. Bah. In any case, while Hubby Sweet was channel surfing mindlessly one evening, I heard the distinct voice of Anthony Bourdain ("I'm here, what's holding you up?", followed by a distinct la-la-la-la-la, what a beautiful life...) I recognized the sound emanating from the TV to be the Travel & Living "Station ID". I did a secret dance. Woohoo!!! (I adore Anthony Bourdain and Ian Wright, and during the Wander Years, actually wished I had their jobs instead of mine. Haha.)

Long after Hubby Sweet turned in for the night, I was still plopped on the sofa, digesting one T&L show after another. Then this show came up about Philly and the two landmark Philly Cheesesteak Sandwich stalls that stood at the center of town. "This is the best," the loyalists of one declared, even as the loyalists of the other declared, "The one from that other restaurant just does not compare." Aaaaaaahhhhh....I like places like those. It makes for good food discoveries--and good local chismis. Haha.

That said, this post is about Philly Cheesesteak. Might as well. I've had the good fortune of actually coming across three in recent months. I love steak. I love cheese. I especially love Philly cream cheese. Therefore....I should love Philly Cheesesteak, right?

Right. =D

First off, Elbert's Cheesesteak Sandwiches, right smack in the middle of the Powerplant food court. I have long been intrigued by it, but have been put off by the.....uh....oh, fine, I admit it. PRICE. I mean, who pays for P350.00 five-inch hoagies in the middle of the food court (even if it is the Powerplant food court)?! Then again, since this is the little brother of the pricey Elbert's Steak Room (where Angus Beef and Wagyu reign supreme), I figured maybe (just maybe!) these hoagies would be worth every single centavo we would plunk down for it.

It just so happens that the Hubby and I were trying to get out of somber mood at that time, and trying new restaurants always give us a quick pepper-upper, so we thought, price-be-damned, we will go for it! =)

At Elbert's, they prepare your cheese steak right before your eyes. =)

We decided to go for the Whole Wheat American Cheese Steak Hoagie. It was literally quite a mouthful. When we got it, Hubby Sweet and I had to take a moment to try and figure out how on earth we were going to eat it. Haha! =)

We decided that eating it burrito-style was the only way we could bite into it without everything dripping and dropping all over us. =) Still, the cross-section shows that while Elbert's streak strips is good meat, my hoagie was really more veggies than cheese steak....and well...for the price, I really expected more meat. =( So while it was good all around, I don't think I'd be back. I suppose, better value for money could be had elsewhere.

And it could be had here. Charlie's Grind and Grill, long spoken about in hushed tones among the residents of Bo. Kapitolyo as the burger joint beside the neighborhood carwash. Harking on the chance to have a decent meal with an ice-cold bottle of beer while waiting for your car to be washed and waxed, Charlie's has since evolved from being the tambayan of the boys out on their weekend carwash errand to being a meal destination of choice (with the entire barkada/family in tow).

The lines are long and the wait could be even longer. Make sure you have time to spare when you go. Oh, and make sure you are NOT super-hungry yet when you go because Charlie's is not a fastfood joint. They cook everything only after you order. Nothing is pre-prepared. Even when there are no lines, prepare to wait. The locals have gotten wiser. They call ahead so they can just pick-up once the goods are ready. In the meantime, you in the joint would have to wait for your turn.

Is it worth it? =)

Charlie's first came to prominence because of its burger. Hand-crafted burgers, they say (like it's a big deal). 100% Angus Beef. =D Hubby Sweet, therefore, had to order to see (and taste!) for himself.

As soon as he took his first bite, I had to ask, "How is it?"

Wearing a perplexed look, he declared, "Lasang sausage."

"Weh? What do you mean?" I asked as I reached out for a bite.

"Taste it," he said as he brought the burger closer to me.

I had to laugh as soon as I took my first bite. OO nga! Haha. =D It's the way it was seasoned. Smoke. Some familiar spice I couldn't quite put my finger on. It was good, great even! But once again, the Hubby's penchant for weird comments on the food we're trying was on-point. Haha. =D

Still, I did not go to Charlie's for the burger. I went for the Philly Cheese Steak. I've heard people in the office talk about it with reverence. I must see for myself. I must try. This is what they set before me.

So far, so good. Properly sloppy sandwich. More meat. More cheese. Just the way I like it. =) It was also more consistent with the "original" Philly Cheese Steak Sandwich as I found out in that T&L show. The original used nothing but heated Chiz Whiz. Yes. =D

I bit into it. Definitely classifies as one of those things that make you go "hmmmmmnnnnn....". ^_^ And this is not even high-falluting Angus Beef. It is just "Angas Beef" (Batangas Grade A Sirloin, haha), but it was still tasty. The Jalapeno Peppers also provided a surprising twist and kick. My only beef (pun intended) was that the meat and the Jalapeno peppers were not evenly distributed. See, at a certain point, I was too full to continue and decided to leave the bread and just pick on the meat and jalapeno, but I opened the remaining third of my sandwich to find, uh, only bell pepper and cheese. Ngyar. =(

Still, I wouldn't mind going back to Charlie's. One of these darn days when I finally have time to spare. =)

Oh, and for the boys, the other siren-call is the availability of imported beer (typically the best selling beers in other countries). They are displayed side-by-side with all variants of San Miguel. (And all of a sudden, a bulb lights up in all of my male readers' heads, "Now, this (!) makes it worth visiting..." Haha. =))

Now, Bro-in-Law G-Genius also vouched for the new Greenwich Philly Cheesesteak Pizza. It was part of the recently-launched "pang-men" line-up of Greenwich (which is affiliated with the company he works for), and he promised that during one weekend in House Better, he will treat everyone for merienda. One night, however, while the Hubby was out late, I found myself at home with nothing to eat. I had a lightbulb moment and did what I have not done in a long time. I ordered food for delivery. Haha. Yes, it's been a while because Hubby Sweet cooks--whether it's for the sheer love for cooking or it's a matter of survival (since I don't, haha) is something that is still out for the jury to decide. =D

This greeted me when I opened the box. Strips of beef and bell peppers on a thin, crispy crust, topped by cream cheese. Truth be told, when I first tasted it, I thought it was pretty bland. I was used to the sharp salty note of quickmelt cheese on Pinoy pizza, so I literally covered my dinner slices with hot sauce. I downed everything with ice, cold Coke Light. Pwede na. Classifies as comfort food for a night alone at home (which, BTW, soooooooo goes against Greenwich's barkada bonding theme, ngyarks, haha).

The real delish dish-covery, however, is that it actually tasted MUCH, MUCH (!) BETTER the following day. I don't know if the time in the ref allowed more of the flavor to settle or seep through, but one thing is sure, eating my pizza leftovers for breakfast the day after provided a happy boost to start my day. Yey! ^_^

Lesson learned: I must order it the night before and eat it the day after. Haha. =D

Now, the next one is technically not a Philly Cheesesteak Sandwich, but I'll include it anyway because it's a particularly damn good steak sandwich. =) Many working lunch meetings saw me devouring one of these. Haha. If you ever find yourself @ The Stock Market on Bonifacio High Street, order this. Roast Beef Sandwich. I think in the entire menu, this one provides the best value for money. Make sure you say the "sandwich" word when you order though. I made the mistake of not saying it once and ended up with an entire slab of pricey roast beef on my plate. Naku! =( It is usually served on foccacia, but if you're into healthy stuff, Hubby Sweet once asked them to use wheat bread instead, and the kitchen gladly accommodated. (BTW, the pic below is only half of it. I had already eaten the other half before I remembered to take the pic, haha.)

So there! Four-posts-in-one. Haha. Done. =)

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Elbert's Cheese Steak is on the lower level of the Powerplant Mall. In the middle of the food court.

To get to Charlie's, go to Pioneer St. (from EDSA). Turn right on the street after Jollibee (you'll see the gate of Bo. Kapitolyo). Just keep on going straight on that street until you see Charlie's on your right.

To order Greenwich Philly Cheese Steak, call 5-55-55. ;p

For really good Roast Beef Sandwich, go to The Stock Market @ Bonifacio High Street. B3.

Go. =D

POINT B: A TRIBUTE TO MOTHER =)

I found it fitting to end the “Baguio series” with a tribute to my mom through this piece. It was actually forwarded by Sister Pusjing (I forget now why or for what occasion, but I’m pretty sure it had something to do with Patita). Now, whereas the piece “spoke” to the mom in my sister, I had a totally different appreciation for it. It “spoke” to me as the daughter who grew up with a Mother who resisted the (I can only imagine) basic maternal instinct to protect her child from all things “bad”—so she can be better prepared for the future she will most likely spend without her mom fawning all over her.

By the time I finished listening to this piece, I had tears in my eyes because as I recognized myself in the little girl she spoke about, I realized just how special my Mother really was. Beyond the million and one meals that she prepared for us, and the million and one tutoring hours, and the million and one reprimands and advices, and the million and one celebrations and cheers, she made sure we grew up with an entire set of memories that we can go back to every single time we hit a crossroad and have to decide one way or another. She continues to be my moral compass. And, her greatest gift to us (and her life’s greatest achievement, I suppose) was the kind of human beings we all turned out to be—simply because of the kind of Mother she was to us.

Happy Birthday, Mother!


Love, love, love (!!!!! to infinity),
Toyang =)


P.S. – Now for some strange reason, video posts do not show up in my FB links even though they show up with absolutely no problem in my Multiply and Blogspot sites. For those who may not be able to see the video, following is a transcript. But, really, you ought to hear Sarah Kay deliver it. (Look for “Sarah K Performs B” in You Tube.)

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B
As Performed by Sarah Kay
@ the Bowery Poetry Club
Summer, 2008


Instead of Mom, she’s gonna call me Point B,
Because that way she knows that no matter what happens,
At least she can always find her way to me.

And I’m going to paint the solar system on the back of her hands,
So she would have to learn the entire universe before she could say,
“Oh, I know that like the back of my hand.”

She’s gonna learn that this life will hit you, hard, in the face,
Wait for you to get back up so it can kick you in the stomach,
But getting the wind knocked out of you is the only way to remind your lungs how much they like the taste of air.

There is hurt, here, that cannot be fixed by band-aids or poetry.
So the first time she realizes that Wonder Woman isn’t coming,
I’ll make sure she knows she doesn’t have to wear the cape all by herself,
‘Cause no matter how wide you stretch your fingers,
Your hands will always be too small to catch all the pain you want to heal.

Believe me. I’ve tried.

And, “Baby,” I’ll tell her, “Don’t keep your nose up in the air like that; I know that trick.
You’re just smelling for smoke so you can follow the trail back to a burning house,
So you can find the boy who lost everything in the fire to see if you can save him,
Or else find the boy who lit the fire in the first place to see if you can change him.”

But I know that she will anyway.
So instead, I’ll always keep an extra supply of chocolates and rain boots nearby,
‘Cause there’s no heartbreak that chocolate can’t fix.
OK. There’s a few heartbreaks that chocolates can’t fix,
But that’s what the rain boots are for,
Because rain will wash away everything if you let it.

I want her to see the world through the underside of a glass-bottom boat,
To look through a magnifying glass at the galaxies that exist on the pinpoint of a human mind,
Because that’s the way my mom taught me,
That there’ll be days like this.

“There’ll be days like this,” my Mama said,
When you open your hands to catch, and wind up only with blisters and bruises,
When you step out of the phone booth and try to fly,
And the very people you want to save are the ones standing on your cape,
When your boots will fill with rain, and you’ll be up to your knees in disappointment,

And those are the very days you have all the more reason to say “thank you”.
‘Cause there’s nothing more beautiful than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline,
No matter how many times it's sent away.

You will put the wind in win some, lose some.
You will put the star in starting over and over.
No matter how many landmines are up to the minute,
Be sure your mind lands on the beauty of this funny thing called life.

And, yes, on a scale from one to over-trusting,
I am pretty fucking naïve,
But I want her to know that this world is made out of sugar.
It can crumble so easily,
But don’t be afraid to stick your tongue out and taste it.

“Baby,” I’ll tell her, “Remember your Mama is a worrier, but your Papa is a warrior,
And you are the girl with small hands and big eyes who never stops asking for more.
Remember that good things come in three’s, and…so do bad things, and
Always apologize when you’ve done something wrong,
But don’t you ever apologize for the way your eyes refuse to stop shining.
Your voice is small, but don’t ever stop singing.
And when they finally hand you heartbreak,
Slip hatred and war under your doorstep,
And hand you handouts on street corners of cynicism and defeat,
You tell them,
That they really ought to meet your mother.”

CAFE BY THE RUINS / MAY 25,2009

A huge part of any trip for me are the meals I take while I'm there. That said, I should've written this post a few weeks ago, but got side-tracked by my...uh...farming activities. Haha. Damn, that FB Farmville! =) Since I finished my blueberry planting early today, I finally find myself with enough time to finish this post before I run off to the world of excel sheets and statistical analysis. =)

The BCC cottage was so cozy at night (and, besides, our day activities usually left us too tired to do anything elaborate) so dinners were usually about Yellow Cab (New York's Finest Pizza where Patita gets first crack at the pepperonis while Ray*-B hoards all the mushrooms that can fit in her slice. The adults have Charlie Chicken Pasta to bridge whatever topping is left on the now less-than-New-York's-Finest Pizza, haha). One time, Mother, Sister Pusjing and Patita were soooooooo tired, they decided to skip dinner. The rest of us decided we were tired, but also hungry so we took the chance to take the 5 minute ride to The Manor to eat at...well....I'm not sure what it's called anymore, but I'm pretty sure it's the Baguio equivalent of Le Souffle. One lunch was spent at the BCC Lunch Buffet, another we took as the pre-requisite stop at Mario's.

Mother's birthday lunch at Cafe by the Ruins, therefore, was special. It was the only meal we had in Baguio that we couldn't otherwise have in Metro Manila. Haha! =D

Now, I've been there before. C&G, our old ad agency, sponsored a dinner for their clients during the Baguio Ad Congress way back in 1995. It was pitch-dark and I mistakenly remembered it being off some cliff. Imagine my surprise, therefore, when I asked for directions to Cafe by the Ruins from some of the locals in Burnham Park, only to have them point up to the street toward the munisipyo. "That can't be right," I thought, and decided to repeat my question in case they misunderstood me.

"Manang, sa Cafe by the Ruins po. Yung restaurant..."

"OO nga.," she nodded, "Akyat kayo dun sa kalyeng yun, tapos...." she continued, launching into a fairly simple turn-right-turn-left version that made it clear that Cafe by the Ruins is within the city proper and not in the off-city limits cliff location of my dreams. Haha. Apparently, the "ruins" they were referring to where the ruins of an old theater that was later converted into the home of the first civil governor of Benguet. Ngyar. =)

Aside from the Cafe being a landmark (which automatically classified it as a must-visit), we chose Cafe by the Ruins because it was, after all, Mother's birthday and we might as well go where healthy food is supposedly available. The restaurant prides itself with concocting a menu that features and highlights crops and ingredients grown in the region. Mountain rice, muscovado, carabao's milk, upland coffee, etc., etc. Sounds about right. =)

We started our meal with this. Salad Topped with Cheese Made from Carabao's Milk. The cheese was wonderfully toasted on the outside, but still soft-chewy on the inside. The mild flavor of the cheese, the toasted note of the sesame seeds and the lightly sweet-sour vinaigrette were a good complement for the fresh greens. A light but satisfying way to start off the meal.

Father chose this from the appetizer menu because he was intrigued by the idea of Tinapa Rolls. It tasted like...uh...lumpiang shanghai made with tinapa. Haha. Good, but no surprises here. =)

I'm actually confused right now because I have this other pic in my phone archive and I'm thinking now if this was the tinapa thing, and if it was, what then is the pic above? HAHA. Whatever....=) Maybe Sister Pusjing or Bro I-gue can help me remember. Haha. =)


We also ordered the Pinikpikan which is a traditional chicken dish from the Cordilleras. It was also a declared specialty in the cafe. Most lowlanders (us included) only vaguely know of Pinikpikan as a flavorful chicken dish that is made from native chicken that is subjected to a certain Cordilleran religious rituals. Most people order it not fully aware of what the chicken is subjected to prior to cooking. Apparently, "pikpik" is the local dialect's term for light beating as the chicken is......uh....I don't want to continue. Research on your own if you want to know how it's prepared. Suffice it to say that now that I know better, this is probably the last time I will let anyone else order the dish while I am in their company. I respect the reasons for the religious rituals that results in the chicken used for this dish, but also think that to subject the chicken to the process just for the pure enjoyment of eating a flavorful chicken dish in a restaurant is a bit much. Naku! =( Truth be told, it was actually just OK for me. Maybe my expectations were heightened by the seeming exotic-ness that emanates from the description, but it really just tasted like another version of tinola. The more savory taste of native chicken and the supposed roasted note was lost on me.

Father and I also deliberated between ordering the Sardines and the Crispy Tapa because the descriptions for both seemed so "romanticized" on the menu.

After careful deliberation, I declared that I wanted the Crispy Tapa.

Father declared that that was what he wanted, so maybe I should just get the Sardines so we can taste both.

I told him, I said I wanted the Tapa first so maybe he should get the Sardines.

"But I want the Tapa, and just want to taste the Sardines," he retorted, apparently secretly thinking that despite the romantic description, the sardines will just taste like the bottled Spanish sardines that one can get from the supermarket shelves.

"Eh, I also want the tapa, and just want to taste the Sardines," I answered, as I was beginning to have visions that it would be quite similar to the Crispy Tadyang that we used order in the old Bistro Remedios in Malate.

"Basta, I'll order the tapa," Father said.

"Ako din."

End of discussion. (And, yes, this is how we sometimes converse over meals. And, yes, this is also how we ended up with two Crispy Tapa dishes. Hahaha!)




The verdict?

"This is so not what I expected," I voiced out, after taking my first bite.

"Adobo flakes naman 'to, hindi tapa," Father said, apparently also expecting the tapa to be more similar to the Cafe Remedios Crispy Tadyang.

"Oo nga. Slightly dry and matabang," I sighed. (For the record though, I'm a "salty eater". =))

"Sabi na kase sa'yo yung Sardines na lang orderin mo, eh!" Father exclaimed.

"OO nga..." I agreed, "Eh, yun din naman ang sabi ko sa'yo ah!"

"OO nga," he grinned.

End of discussion. Haha! =D

The other dishes were pretty uneventful as the kids ordered pasta (if memory serves me right), and Mother opted to spend her birthday lunch eating...uh...Mami. =D This was not special Cordillera mami. It was just mami--which, I suppose, is just made with really fresh veggies. =)

Dessert was something else. The kids were enticed by the idea of ordering Strawberry Sorbet. They're actually enamored by anything strawberry, and actually declared they wanted some before they could even go through their main meals. It was light, as expected, but the tartness that broke through the very slight sweetness was slightly jarring. Our collective experience with strawberry ice cream, strawberry shortcake, and even fresh strawberries sprinkled with sugar has taught our brain cells (quite falsely) that strawberries are naturally sweet when they are really not. Well, they are, but not syrupy, sugary sweet. =) I liked it. The kids....well...I will let the fact that they did not finish it speak for itself. Still, don't you think this is really pretty strawberry sorbet? =)

Still, there has to be something said about my penchant for sour desserts. (Just ask Mrs. Smith and Cheffy re: our Starlight Express experience @ The Pen, and Cousin Day re: the Lemon Torte Birthday Cake, haha!). So, I figured, what the heck. I will go where my adventurous taste buds want to take me. Against all appeals to good reason, I ordered this. Tamarind Sorbet. Ang asim! Haha. =D Still, I at least now know that Tamarind Sorbet is too.....uh....sour. I mean, even for me. =)

This, however, is the one thing that made the Cafe by the Ruins worth it for me. I have long been intrigued by it, but never really found a decent venue to try it out. Civet Cat Coffee. Yes, coffee that is made from beans that are picked out from the Civet Cat's poop. Yes, poop. Supposedly, the Civet Cat is very fond of eating coffee berries, but they cannot really fully digest it so the coffee bean still comes out of their poop pretty much intact. Still, the gastric juice processing that it goes through while inside the Civet Cat's digestive tract supposedly gives the beans a unique note. Now, how anybody (in his right mind) actually thought of scooping up some wild cat's poop and picking it apart to look for flavorful coffee berries is beyond my comprehension, but what the heck. Somebody discovered it. I must try. =) Father and Bro I-gue were also intrigued enough to give it a go.

I usually take my coffee with cream these days. This time, I decided, only the slightest hint of sugar will get between me and my pure Civet Cat Coffee experience. First sip. Divine. Bitter sweet with a slight wine-y note. Perfection in a cup. ^_^

Now, I deliberated about buying me more to take home as I surveyed the shop outside the Ruins (where they sell practically everything that they serve in the cafe in its raw form), but I decided against it. Not only was it not cheap (P500+ for a small pack), I also didn't want to get used to the idea of enjoying this divine coffee on a daily basis. What if I run out? How will I learn to live with the supermarket-variety coffee beans? No. Civet Cat Coffee will be reserved for special occasions.

Good thing too, because soon after, in the middle of Baguio, despite a very cold mountain breeze, I started sweating profusely! My heart started palpitating; fire seemed to be running through my veins. There was no doubt about it. It was the Civet Cat Coffee working its magic.

Wow! =D

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Cafe by the Ruins is along Chuntug Street--which is really not much help if you're not a local. Haha. My tip: go to Burnham Park and ask for directions from there. =)

BACK TO THE CITY OF PINES: PART 2 / MAY 23-26,2009 =D

Notwithstanding the desire to just hole up in the cottage and never leave the vicinity of BCC, a trip to Baguio will not be complete without a trip to Burnham Park and Wright Park. The trip to Wright Park was high on the little girls' list of Things to Do.

"I want a white horse, Nangnang!" declared one.

"I want a white horse too, Nangnang!" declared the other.

Thankfully, there is no shortage of white horses in Wright Park these days, although, pray tell, when on earth did every single white horse start sporting pink (yes, PINK!) manes?! Hahaha. =D

"Mas gusto po kase ng mga bata," explained Manong, and the sparkle in the eyes of Patita and Ray*-B provided absolute confirmation. The kids, apparently, don't see anything wrong with dying a horse's mane pink. It was, I suppose, the horse of their dreams. They only dreamt of riding a white horse; they each got one with pink hair to boot! Haha. O, sya, sya. =D

The other thing that the little girls did not see anything wrong with was the strong smell of horse manure that overtook our senses as we approached Wright Park. We got used to it after sitting around for a while, but unfortunately for Patita and Ray*-B, their moms have not yet gotten themselves used to the strong smell while they were negotiating with the manongs.

"Oh, Mom! One hour please!!!!!" they both whined, as the manongs gave the rates for 1/2 hour and a full hour.

"Thirty minutes only. If you like it....." they paused. I half-expected them to say that they will then extend to an hour after thirty minutes if the girls want to continue riding their horses.

"Thirty minutes only. If you like it...." they paused, "We will go to Camp John Hay tomorrow and you can ride the horses there." Hahaha! =D

Now, I realize that somewhere in the photo library in House Better, Bro I-gue, Sister Pusjing and I have photos that look exactly like these. I had meant to scan them over the weekend but completely forgot to do so. In any case, I do remember Sister Pusjing insisting on a white horse (with white mane back then) that turned out to be so slow, everytime we passed her, we called out "tidum-tidum-tidum-tidum....". She didn't care; her horse was white. Haha! Bro and I got big, brown, sturdy looking horses. Not that we actually knew how to ride. We just wanted the big, brown, sturdy looking ones. =D Now they may not be smiling much here, but trust me, as Patita and Ray*-B were going round and round and round and round the oval, their smiles pretty much breached a thousand watts. =D

The following day, the entire family hauled our asses off the couch to drive downtown to the other prerequisite Baguio activity. Boating on Burnham Park. Haha! Now, I do remember enjoying this activity when I was a kid. Really. No, really. I did. I remember being on one boat with Lolo Danding (after whom our ancestral home, Eduardo's was named after), Father, Mother, Sister Pusjing and Bro I-gue, racing with and/or calling out to Tito Art, Tita Thelms and Cousin Day on the other boat. I remember having the time of my life. I suppose that's the magic of being a kid. Every experience is magnified a million times on the fun meter. As an adult though, it was more of like, uh.....OK.....is our 30 minutes up already? Hahahahahaha! Still, giving Patita and Ray*-B their own Burnham Park memories made the experience worthwhile.

And yes, of course we had to pose as a family beside the lake! Haha! =D (Waaaaaah! Ang taba ko na naman. And I should have combed my hair! Haha! Grrrrrrrrrr..... =D)

After lunch at Cafe by the Ruins (to be posted separately), we fulfilled the promise we made to the girls. Camp John Hay was high on the agenda, and yes, it is twice more expensive than Wright Park, but the horses are more sosyal and the facilities are better. Unfortunately for the girls, no white horses with pink manes. They had to "settle" for these. ;p

Unlike Wright Park were most riders go round and round an oval (hence the accumulated droppings), horseback riding in Camp John Hay takes you down a trail. Against her will, therefore (after all, she is not about to let the kids go off to a mountain trail alone with a stranger), Sister Pusjing got on a horse too. Hubby Sweet, for his part, was not about to let the two kids and Sister Pusjing wander off into the woods with strangers so he also got on a horse. (Truth be told, I think it is also part of his secret dream--"Tweet, para akong si FPJ!" Haha! =D)


As they wandered off for a good hour and a half, the rest of us walked / drove over to the Mile High export overruns / outlet shops right across The Manor. We only realized it was time to go when Bro I-gue's and my cellphone started ringing incessantly.

It was Sister Pusjing and Hubby Sweet on the other end--with a single message.

"We're done na with horseback riding. Sunduin niyo kami. Nasa inyo gamit namin. Wala kaming pambayad."

HAHAHA! Ngyah. =D

BACK TO THE CITY OF PINES: PART 1 / MAY 23-26,2009 =D

May was a busy, busy month as far as family bonding is concerned. As early as last year's trip to Donsol and CWC, Sister Pusjing and I were already discussing where we would want to go this year. We said, maybe we can take the rest of our immediate family for our 2009 Summer trip. We were concerned that Mother, these days, really hates going on long trips, but we thought, maybe (just maybe), she'd enjoy going back to Baguio. Besides, none of the kids have been there yet. =)

And so we found ourselves back in the City of Pines for Mother's birthday weekend. Yey! =D

As soon as the parents and Bro I-gue consented, we started scouting around for a place to stay, but the Manor (at Camp John Hay) was priced at ridiculously peak levels (it is summer, after all). We were unfamiliar with any of the other hotels in Baguio, and Pines Hotel (where we would traditionally stay when we were kids) has since burned down and been replaced with that mini-version of a mall everyone calls SM.

Father saved the day at the last minute. Before he retired, they used to have a corporate account at the Baguio Country Club, and one his friends so kindly offered to help us book a place there as his guests. Wooooohooooooo!!! This was shaping up to be a great weekend. Whereas downtown Baguio has been overturned by pollution, grime and traffic, staying within the BCC and CJH vicinity, I knew, can still give one a sense (albeit, slightly false) that Baguio is still the way it used to be. =)

So thanks to the collaboration of Father and Tito Manny, we were able to stay at one of the BCC cottages (right across the BCC grounds). It was gorgeous--especially so because it was surrounded by hundreds of pine trees! So gorgeous, in fact, that when Patita and Ray*-B rushed in, both squealed giddily with Patita exclaiming, "Ooooooooh, this is more than I could ever hope for!" Haha. Yes. =D

Following is the view from one of the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room. It was so gorgeous (especially awashed in cool morning mist), I actually started shifting my dreams of owning a row of practical condos/apartments for rents to owning a vacation house just like it (except that it would have to be somewhere nearer like, maybe, Tagaytay so the family can choose to go anytime without much hassle. =)). It soooooooo goes against my principle of building passive income, but what the heck! For the weekend, I allowed myself to dream. =)

Now, we were a group of nine adults plus three kids and the cottage was surprisingly big enough for all of us (with room to spare!). It had three big rooms, three T&B plus a maid's quarter with a double-deck and its own T&B!

We knew we would all be staying in one cottage and was not expecting to have that much space. Thankfully, there was more than enough. I mean, even the loft landing had a sofa bed that can be stretched out if ever additional sleeping space was required.

Push comes to shove, people can even hang-out in the two living room sofas which were big, roomy and comfy enough for sleep in. (This was a pic of the living room, taken from the loft.)

The kitchen was also fully equipped. Ref, range, microwave, coffee maker, a full set of pots, pans and utensils + plates, utensils, glasses, cups and saucers. It was complete. So we ended up getting breakfast groceries at SM and ended up preparing them ourselves every morning so we don't have to dress-up just to cross over to the BCC breakfast buffet in the main clubhouse. We're on vacation after all. It makes no sense to be required to dress up just to eat breakfast. =) We knew that no fancy breakfast buffet would ever beat having a leisurely breakfast with the family while you're still in your jammies, sipping a steaming hot cup of mountain coffee amidst the cool Baguio morning breeze. Mother of course would say that the one thing that would top that was the fact that she did not have to wake up early to cook breakfast for all of us! Haha. Everyone took turns on kitchen duty as Mother was not allowed to enter the kitchen all weekend. It was, after all, her birthday weekend. Belated Happy B, Mother! =)

Staying at the BCC cottages was like literally having our own vacation house for the weekend.

And, yes--yes, indeed. It was really more than we could all ever hope for. =D

ON HIGHER GROUND / SEPTEMBER 26,2009 =(

Even on Saturdays, I usually wake up early. Hubby Sweet usually drops me and the pups off at House Better for the usual weekend stay with Father and Mother before rushing off to Lago de Oro for weekend wakeboarding. With a storm alert up (albeit only Signal #1), he decided not to go to Lago anymore. He asked instead if he can go to Club Gymnastica (where he can practice flips on a rectangular trampoline) before we head off to House Better. No problem, I said. I can sleep in.

He got back around 10:00 a.m. and asked if I really wanted to go to House Better. It’s practically zero visibility outside. I looked at him, quite surprised. It didn’t sound like it was raining really hard (I suppose, being in a groggy state in an airconditioned room on the 24th floor can insulate one from a lot). I looked out from the lanai and thought nothing of it. I can see the street, 24 floors below. Traffic was flowing free. The rain was continuous, but it was more a mist than an actual downpour. I actually thought, it was actually quite gentle and silent. We’ve driven through worse, I thought. Mother already prepared lunch. We should go.

By 10:30 a.m., we were out of the House Pioneer basement. It was soon after we got off the covered driveway that I realized that what seemed like a gentle mist from 24 floors above ground can actually hit your windshield in a way that will make it seem like you actually have a guy sitting on your car roof, pouring drums and drums of water down your windshield. The wipers were no match, but it was a short stretch from the House Pioneer driveway to the Boni Avenue underpass. “If it’s flooded,” I thought, “I’ll take it as a sign for us to turn back.” It was dry. A lone car was parked on one side, its hazard lights flashing. He probably decided to wait for the rain to ease up, Hubby Sweet and I agreed. We forged on.

We got up to EDSA. Only two cars other than our trusty CRV. No traffic at all, except that by that time, there was practically zero visibility. I told Hubby Sweet, “I suppose we can manage. Let’s just drive slowly.” He put on both headlight and the hazard lights. We knew we were in trouble when we hit Guadalupe. Traffic hit a standstill right across the Loyola Memorial Chapels. There, we practically parked, motor and aircon running, with Buster J and Banzo (our new Siberian Husky pup) in the back seat. People walking were drenched. Initially, they held on to their umbrellas. Soon after, everyone probably realized the futility. They were being drenched anyway, regardless of the size of their umbrellas. Soon, everyone was walking without it. The entire sidewalk of EDSA was reduced to a wet T-shirt contest. Buster J looked out the window, wearing a perplexed look--if that was at all possible for a dog. He has come to expect that as soon as the car stops, it would be time for him to go down. Banzo also tried to see what all the fuss was about, but he was too small. I picked him up and held him up to the window. We amused ourselves by watching the people go by as we listened to 594 on the radio for possible updates on why we have come to a complete stop.

We were on our way to House Better so we had the full battle gear (change of clothes, chips, dog food and a gallon of water that Hubby Sweet previously bought, supposedly to take to Lago). Hubby Sweet voiced out that, push comes to shove, at least we won’t go hungry. I called Mother on the phone to tell her we may be a bit late because we were stuck.

Traffic barely moved, and the few times it did, it would be by no more than a foot. Hubby Sweet looked to the other side of EDSA with the lit-up Jollibee, Chowking and KFC signs. “Tweet,” he said, if we don’t move from this place by 1:00 p.m., you take the wheel. I’ll just take the umbrella, cross-over to the other side (using the MRT foot bridge) and buy food. Malamang naman, nandito pa din kayo pagbalik ko.” He laughed. In times like this, I realize just how lucky I am to have a streetsmart, no kiyeme, take-charge kind of guy for a husband.

By 1:00 p.m. (by then we have been stuck for almost 2 hours), traffic started to move, albeit very slowly. Go. Stop. Go. Stop. During one of the stops (by then we have probably moved no more than four car-lengths), I shouted out to one of the MMDA’s, “KUYA!!!!!!!!! Nasan po yung mga baha?” Over the radio, it was reported that Nichols (the entry point of the SLEX) was submerged, but I wanted confirmation.

“Tatlong points po, Ma’am!” he shouted back, barely audible through the din of the rain, “Sa Estrella! Sa Buendia! Sa Mantrade!”

“Kaya namin dumaan?”, I shouted back, referring to the fact that we were riding a CRV.

“Ma’am, sa Estrella at Buendia hanggang bewang,” he shouted back, motioning to his waist then a little further up, “sa Mantrade, hanggang leeg!”

Ngyar….Hubby Sweet declared that he was going to park. I had gotten us into this mess with my doggone determination to go home to House Better in time for lunch; he was putting his foot down. The Guadalupe area is high ground where we will be safe. We are going no further.

The problem was that, in bumper-to-bumper traffic, parking meant not allowing the ones behind us to go through as well. Thankfully, we realized that we were inching toward the entrance to the San Carlos seminary. If we must, we decided, we will beg, “Di po ba, sabi ni Jesus, come to me all of you who are weary…..” Thankfully, we got in without any hassle.

“OK lang, sige,” Manong Guard said. Bless him.

After making sure that we were parked and safe in San Carlos, Hubby Sweet took the golf umbrella and decided to walk back to the Guadalupe MRT footbridge and cross to the other side of EDSA to buy food. He told us to stay put and wait for him to come back.

I took the opportunity to check on my dad (who was stuck in—of all places—the Manila Memorial Park because he had to attend an aunt’s burial), my mom in House Better, the people in House Makati (where Bro I-gue, Sister Pusjing and most of our cousins, titos and titas on my mother’s side lived) and on Eduardo’s (our paternal ancestral home). Everyone seemed to be in high spirits despite the predicament they were currently in at the time. Except for my mom (no issues in House Better), everyone else was contending with Typhoon Ondoy in one way or another. Ate Marj (being alone at Eduardo’s at the time) reported that she was not able to salvage anything, and that the ref was now floating like a coffin in the living room. She was otherwise giggling and safe. Father couldn’t get out of the memorial park as Sucat Road is flooded (“Dito na yata ako aabutin ng kamatayan ko,” he joked as Panet, Panids and Lolo Art guffawed in the background). Sister Pusjing reported that they were all on the second floor because flood in their first floor was waist-deep (thigh-deep for Bro because of the difference in their height, haha). They have managed to move all the important appliances to the higher landing. Despite the instant indoor pool that they all of a sudden have in their living room, they’re all OK.

I tried to send out a few messages out to check out on some friends, but got no reply. I don’t even know if they got my messages.

By the time I finished checking on everybody, Hubby Sweet was back with two steaming bowls of Chowking Beef & Wanton Noodle Soup and two asado siopaos.

We decided to get out of the car and eat at the nearby shed. It was wet, but at least it had a decent table where we could eat. Hubby Sweet also felt it would be good for Buster J and Banzo to get the chance to walk around a bit. They’re used to going out to Mother’s garden (or, I suppose, to our lanai in House Pioneer) during lunch to “go” and we did not want them to "go" inside the car. The rain, by then, had eased up a bit although it continued to pour. By the time we finished our soup, we were all (dogs included) slightly wet, but thankfully not drenched. As we were discussing whether to just leave the car in San Carlos and just walk back to House Pioneer with golf umbrellas and both dogs in tow, Manong Guard passed by on his bike. He reported that traffic was beginning to move. He does not know how or why it was moving, but it was. Miracle! Hubby Sweet and I decided after finishing our emergency lunch and after a quick trip to the restroom to try and go back to House Pioneer.

The southbound side of EDSA had indeed miraculously cleared up, but just as we were about to ease into the lane that will take us to the U-turn slot under the Buendia flyover, we realized that the northbound side was backed up. Over the radio, quite serendipitously (miraculously?), they advised motorists that the area in front of the MMDA office in EDSA was flooded. We did not want to get caught in traffic again nor run the risk of getting stuck in flood in a “low area” of EDSA. In a split second, we made the decision to go for gold—to go for higher ground: House Better via the Skyway. We turned to Buendia which was miraculously flood free until Paseo de Roxas (it was apparently waist-deep in other parts). We turned on Paseo, then on Herrera. That would take us to the Skyway ramp via Amorsolo. That worried me. I know Amorsolo was notorious for being flooded at the slightest downpour because it was next to a creek. I was stumped (albeit, ecstatic) to find it absolutely flood-free. The miraculous part about it was that Pasong Tamo (one block away, which is at the same level practically) was flooded. As we turned right to the Skyway ramp, we looked left to see Pasay Road, waist-deep in murky water with several vehicles stalled along it.

Feeling relieved and much safer as we drove along the Skyway, we looked down to find a lake where Magallanes Village and the Villamor Driving Range once stood. The trees that lined the golf course were reduced to mangroves. On the street between Shell Magallanes and Galleria de Magallanes, people were actually swimming (!) to get from point to point. We have been hearing all afternoon over the radio that Metro Manila was flooded. It was only then that Hubby Sweet and I realized the extent of the damage that Ondoy had cursed (and, back then, was continuing to curse) Metro Manila with. We felt shivers run down our spines.

Upon entering the Skyway, Hubby Sweet and I already braced ourselves for another round of heavy traffic. We expected the Skyway to be clogged, but it was miraculously traffic free. The flood had caught everyone by surprise (rising at an alarming rate within a short period of time), and most vehicles had been caught in the South Superhighway down below. We got to House Better in less than 40 minutes from San Carlos Seminary. We were, finally, safely home.
Father arrived with his own stories to tell two hours later, after navigating back-and-forth through several side streets. He told us that Lolo Art had decided to walk home from the cemetery. Panids and Lola A were already home. Panet, who stubbornly decided to head back to Eduardo's, despite everyone else telling her to stay overnight in House Better was still stuck in traffic though with her cell battery running low.

By the time Father got home, the only other one left “out” was bro-in-law G-Genius who went to the gym early Saturday, not realizing that he will be hard-pressed to find a route back to House Makati after his gym session. Sister Pusjing and I texted back-and-forth about where he was at that point (thankfully, the Globe signal in Makati and Better was erratic, but still holding up at that time). We advised him to find a way to Ayala, Herrera, Amorsolo and the Skyway. He would have to spend the night at House Better; there is no way he can get home to House Makati.

G-Genius arrived in House Better in time for dinner after spending practically the entire day on the road. As we watched the special coverage on TV, we realized just how badly everyone else (particularly those in Marikina, Pasig and Cainta) was hit. We couldn’t help getting teary-eyed as we watched the scenes unfolding on the screen.

None of the friends I’ve texted earlier that afternoon had replied. I prayed it was only because of the dropped cell signals that the networks were reporting—and that they were all safe and alive.

By the time we turned in for the night, at least, our family (including titos, titas and cousins and Panet who had to leave her car and walk home all the way to Eduardo's) were all safe and accounted for.

For now, at the very least, that was enough to be thankful for.

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It just occured to me that around this time, three years ago, I actually wrote about our Milenyo experience. I thought that was going to be the worst storm that would hit Metro Manila in a while. I was apparently wrong. =( The picture below is Sister Pusjing's souvenir photo of House Makati in the aftermath of the typhoon.

Rescue and relief operations for Ondoy are still on-going as I write this. As I told Sister Pusjing who texted me yesterday about helping out in the operations at Patita's school, we also have our own at the Tomato & Pineapple company--particularly for co-workers who have lost everything they had. That said, you may go and volunteer at the nearest relief center to help out on a wider, more massive scale or you may choose to help just one family get their lives back on track.

However you may choose to help, please (PLEASE!) just choose to do so.

I'd like to think that those of us who were spared were spared for a reason: it is so we can help those who were not.

MOTHER'S DAY WEEKEND @ CASA SAN PABLO / May 9-10,2009 =D

As it is every summer @ Eduardo’s (the ancestral home on my father’s side), talk turns to the annual summer trip that we all swore we would take every year as a clan after our first bonding trip in Boracay back in 1994. We have not taken an actual trip since—but we have always reminisced about Boracay every summer. Haha.

This year, Sister Pusjing and Cousin Trix (I've decided to change her code name in this blog, hehe) were adamant about taking a real trip. Cousin-in-law V suggested that maybe we should be less ambitious. Don’t plan a trip that will require people to file their leaves from work and board a plane to some place exotic, he suggested. Maybe we can just go to Batangas. Basta somewhere near. Maybe then, we’d actually get somewhere. He has come to know our family well. Haha! =D

So it goes that the mad hunt for an overnight place no more than 3 hours away (by land) was on. After several email exchanges about this-and-that place and online discussions about the pros and cons of each, Cousin Day sent a link to Casa San Pablo. She has never been there, she said, but it sounded interesting. Eureka!

I’ve always heard nice things about Casa San Pablo—usually in reference to the famed Viaje de Sol (that Hubby Sweet and I always swore we would take either before or after visiting his home province of Marinduque). We never got around to actually doing it; we were always pressed for time. I voted yes on the cousins_plus online poll. “Finally!” I thought.

We sold the adults on the idea of Casa San Pablo as the hub from which we can go to the pottery garden of Ugu Bigyan (which the titas would probably love) or the workshop of sculptor Carlito Ortega (which, I figured, Father would be interested in) or the numerous organic gardens cum café along the way (which are right up Mother’s and Tito Fred’s alley). Or we can just simply stay at the Casa and do…..uh….nothing. After high-stress work weeks, that’s actually the equivalent of pure bliss. =)

Sold! =) Sister Pusjing booked everyone online (with slight difficulty, but everything was eventually worked out), and it is quite serendipitous, I suppose, that we all decided to go off on this get-away during Mother’s Day weekend. Instant “ganda points” from the moms and titas because they all realized that they would not have to cook all weekend! The best Mother’s Day gift ever. Hahaha! =D

Casa San Pablo is actually the Gomez family’s private estate, a former coconut plantation which they have decided to convert into a weekend hideaway. Thus, advance bookings are required. No walk-ins are allowed; it would be the equivalent of visiting relatives for a weekend stay without calling ahead. Although Boots (a great grandchild) and Ann (his wife) Alcantara are the official “punong-abala” when it comes to reservations (and making sure that those they “let in” into their own home are real lambs and not wolves-in-sheep’s-clothing), they are not always there. Their mother, whom we met and fondly call as Tita Vinia, lives in one of the houses on the property. Treating us like she would real family friends, she would amble over intermittently to chat with our titas and to check if meals are OK. She was never intrusive (despite 3-year old niece GB’s blatant question, “Why is that lola here again?!”, not realizing that Tita Vinia actually owned the place, haha)—she was just being a gracious, hospitable host who would made sure her guests are being taken cared off before taking a French leave so they can be comfortable “being themselves”. Mi casa, su casa. At least for the weekend. =)

The coconut trees have since given way to lush open spaces dotted with pine trees. It reminded me a lot of Baguio (except that the weather is Laguna-warm), and a lot of Cawayanon (the executive housing facility within the Tomato & Pineapple Company plantation).

Still, Casa San Pablo is not about five-star accommodations. The guest houses are quirky and quaint; the amenities are basic. Uratex foam mattresses, aircon, hot shower. Don’t look for sunflower showerheads, mood lighting, snuggly comforters and goose down pillows; you won’t find them here. That said, unless you’re super-picky, the amenities will more than do. They actually add to the entire weekend get-away experience.

In addition to the guest houses, four other private houses stand on the estate. But the entire estate is expansive enough so despite the fact that we were a group of almost 20 folks, including children, we’re pretty sure their privacy remained intact.

The thing you have to remember when you do decide to hole-up in Casa San Pablo for the entire weekend is that you have to make sure that you genuinely like the people you’re with. Haha! There are no other distractions available. No TV, for sure. There’s the pool. There’s a hall with a videoke set-up. Unless you brought a ton of weekend reading materials (hopefully non-work related), board games, or a lucky set of playing cards (we didn’t; cousin Marvs had to buy a deck at the nearby Puregold), there is not much else to do.

Still, because we did genuinely like the people we were with, our weekend in San Pablo breezed by.

The grounds were open for everyone to roam around, but we respectfully stayed away from areas where subtle “Private Area” signs stood. The private areas weren’t fenced in, but still. =D Spending most of our time in the concrete jungle, we—especially Patita and GB—enjoyed walking around the grounds.

The two girls even adopted this sculpture as their “pet” for the weekend, and even gave him a name. Creatively, they called him…uh….”Sheepy”. Haha.

Cousin Trix and Cousin-in-Law V came prepared with games. After settling down, we played Pictionary--boys vs. girls. =)

When that ran its course, we played Charades--where "Psycho" has been added to the family's all-time favorite from a previous get-together, "Knock-out". Haha. =)

Somewhere, someone with a broadband stick (uh, me) set-up her laptop (shame! *sheepish grin =D*) so everyone can take turns accessing Yahoo, Friendster, Facebook, etc., etc. Yup. Come to think of it, it also turned out to be a good time for Mother, Lola A and Panids and Panet to catch up on all the photos of Miggy (who's in Canada), Noah (who’s in New York) and Tata Men (who's in Singapore) that cousins Ate Babs, Tam and Mama Mi would regularly post online. Somewhere in the background, Mother, of course, spelled out her complaint for the nth time, “How come nobody prints these pictures anymore?!” Haha. =)

When the games were over, one group stayed huddled in a table, telling stories (a.k.a. making chismis) while going through bags of chips, watermelon seeds and leftover buko pie. One group decided they were going to play cards—and it would never cease to amaze me how playing cards can turn rowdy. Haha!

Sometime mid-afternoon, a light shower turned into a heavy downpour, and the story-telling group decided it would be fun to once again take a bath in the rain, as we once did when we were kids. Sadly, the heavy downpour was short-lived. All wet, we decided it was time to head off to the pool—where, upon seeing Lolo Arts in his “skimpy…uh…swimming trunks” (swimming trunks in triple quotation marks, haha), 3-year old niece GB couldn’t help but blurt out the one line that will be remembered for all time: “Why is that Lolo Art wearing panty lang?!” HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! =D (Thankfully, no uploaded photos of Lolo Arts, haha! We love you, Lolo Arts! =D)

That night, we holed ourselves up in the hall (conveniently a foot bridge away from the guest houses and private enclaves within the estate). We could make noise and not bother anyone. Perfect. Hubby Sweet sang. Everyone else just listened. Kidding! =) Everyone got their turn at the mike, but really, it was mostly Hubby Sweet who sang. Haha. As the others videoked themselves until sleep breathed down their necks, the others resumed their card play.

The rest of the time we spent eating. Ah, yes. Eating. The fee at Casa San Pablo may be configured to include full board meals. In their site, they bragged that the meals are usually in the form that is “native” to San Pablo—which we eventually found out to just mean as good, old traditional home cooking. Forget Jollibee or the fancy-schmanzy restaurants in Greenbelt for the weekend. Casa San Pablo is about slow, home-cooked food—what our lolas of old would probably refer to as “real food”.

This lunch menu welcomed us on our first day. Bulalo. Pinaputok na Isda. Lumpiang Hubad. The photo shows what I had on my plate, but it's really a buffet set-up so you can come and go as often and as much as you want. =)

I forgot what we had for dinner; I think I may have skipped it because I don’t think we stopped eating, lunch onwards. What I do remember is the special Halaya that I had for dessert which is unlike the commercial ones readily available these days. While the Good Shepherd version is tops for most, that made in Casa San Pablo was different and more reminiscent of the Halaya that I used to enjoy back when I was a kid—lovingly toiled over, cooked and food-styled by lolos / lolas / titos / titas as Noche Buena and Media Noche approached. Unlike the Good Shepherd variety, Casa San Pablo’s version is coarser (a testament to the possibility that it was hand-made from scratch). The flavor is not as sweet, it was more smoky, more buttery. I gobbled it up, savoring every spoonful and, unfortunately, forgot to take a pic. =)

This greeted us for breakfast the following day. Tocino. Dried fish (a bit on the salty side though). Fried Egg or you can ask the kitchen to prepare any other egg version that you desire.

Hubby Sweet, in fact, asked for scrambled egg made of all-egg-whites, mixed in with slivers of tomato and onion, and the kitchen gladly obliged. (The yolks, I supposed, they created into an all-yolk version of the same thing, haha.)

Breakfast was served with either coffee or what made this particular breakfast truly special for me. Freshly-made tsokolate-ah (as opposed to the too thick –eh), which you can opt to have with a spoonful or two of freshly-toasted pinipig. Sweet comfort in a hot, steaming cup…^_^

Soon after breakfast, the entire family decided to head off to church for Sunday mass. It was a day for thanksgiving—primarily for our moms—but also for the chance to go on the “annual summer outing”. Finally! =D


The church was conveniently right beside (albeit, outside) the compound—more accessible through the gate at the far end of the estate. Having been confined to the “public areas” the day before, the walk to the church allowed us to get a glimpse of just how expansive Casa San Pablo was.

I know envy is a sin, but we could not help it. Our green hue gave rise to the other thing that we did while we were in Casa San Pablo.

We dreamt.

We dreamt that someday, all of us can be rich enough to be able to afford our family’s very own Casa Eduardo y Aniceta. Haha!

Malay niyo….=D

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CREDITS!!! Thanks to Cousin Trix and Cousin-in-Law V for the pictionary, charades, pool and group pics. Beautiful, beautiful! 'Thought I'd include it to further enhance my memory of the weekend. =) The rest (especially the blurry ones, haha) were taken from my cell camera. Pwede na. =)

We never got around to visiting all the other places we said we’d visit and stayed in Casa San Pablo the entire time. Viaje del Sol, therefore, would have to remain (for now) as an unfinished project between Hubby Sweet and me. Click here to see if it is something that would interest you as well.

Also, if this post has intrigued you enough to try staying at Casa San Pablo, click here for more details. =)