THE IV / JULY 15,2010 =)

When I was a child, I used to wonder how on earth my parents got together. Mother and Father were as different as night and day, their interests as different as black and white.

Father would often joke, “Gumimick nga kami ng Mommy mo nung Friday!”, to which we would all react, quite surprised, “Talaga?! Sa’n kayo nagpunta?”

Laughing, he’d reply, “Ako, sa Glorietta. Siya…ah…ewan, sa simbahan yata.”

Wahahaha. Nice one.=D

Now, I never really understood how their dynamics worked (although the vast difference in their temperament and personalities did make for some pretty “interesting” conversations). When I was young, I tended to think of love and marriage in terms of rainbows and roses. I used to think marriage ought to be about two people who finished each other’s sentences, who walked hand-in-hand everywhere they went, who loved the same things, who hated the same things. Marriage ought to be about people who did everything together. My parents weren’t like that, and I used to wonder, actually, how they could’ve lasted as long as they did. I suppose with friendship and puppy love as the only real benchmark for human relationships, I tended to think back then, well, if you didn’t like doing the same things, you’d look for other people to call as friends, right? Why on earth would you marry someone whose tendency is to go East when your clear preference is to go West?

Then I met the Hubby, got married and all of a sudden, kaboom!

I realize now it’s because you don’t really start out thinking that you live on opposite ends of the spectrum, or worse, that you may actually live in parallel universes. When the relationship is new, you find yourself willing to try just about anything. So you’d eat pesto for the first very time and declare it really good (even though in your mind, you’re practically eating grass). Or you’d take thrice a week tennis lessons (even though you know deep inside that you only enjoy tennis while planted horizontal on your couch as you watch Rafa deliver death by forehand). The list is endless, of course, but the point is this. As you try to learn more about this person who caught your fancy, you would inevitably want to take part in the things he/she enjoys. To get to know him/her better, I suppose. To find out if you’d enjoy doing the same things too, maybe. And because you technically still live in different houses, there really is never enough time to try out everything. This Friday, we would do what you want. On Saturday, let’s try out what I enjoy. Your friends, for the most part, declare you missing-in-action. For the most part, hopefully, they also understood.

The thing is, in the process, you find out that there is more to this other person than the things he/she likes doing. Things like ambition. Like diskarte. Like a sense of humor. Like kindness. Like love of family. Like love.

And then you decide that you like enough of what you see.

So you make the leap of all leaps.

You get married.

To have and to hold. From this day forward until death do you part.

Thing is, after the wedding inevitably comes the marriage, and you find yourself settling in a place where you have all the time and freedom in the world to do “couple stuff”. And, initially, you do try to still do everything together. Until you begin to realize after the nth tennis match, that hitting a yellow fuzzy ball really isn’t your thing and that you’d rather just stay home and read a good book. Until you begin to realize after the nth pasta dish that, unless it’s the hotdog and ketchup variety, pasta does not really float your boat and that all you really want is good, old sinigang.

So your world begins to open up again. Of course you have to make sure that you do enough together on a regular basis (otherwise, you run the risk of ending up as two mere boarders forced to live in the same house), but, really, after a while, you realize that it’s OK to meet up with other friends who genuinely love tennis as much as you do. After a while, you decide that’s it’s really OK to eat out with other folks who, like you, find real comfort in a plate of Aglio Olio and a good round of crostini with spinach dips. After all, it would be a sad, sorry life to live if you had to give up everything you used to enjoy when you were single just so you could do "only the things you can do together with your spouse".

The point, I suppose, is this. Even as you open up your world to include other people again, you inevitably go home.

A boyfriend/girlfriend is there as a gimmick bud (with benefits) who can technically be replaced when the going gets tough (or boring)—which is why a husband/wife ought to count for something more than a hobby-mate.

Every cliché in the book is practically true.

More than just someone to do things with, your spouse is your anchor. Your north. Your light in the darkness. Your rock.

Never mind that you now occasionally play tennis with other people or that you now get your pasta fix with someone else. The thing is, these people and you, no matter how good your friendship is, go your separate ways at the end of the day. So while they commiserate with you in times of trouble and toast to you in times of success, at the end of meal (or the game, for that matter), they go home to a life separate from yours with its own set of worries and its own set of celebrations. They go home to a life where your stories are only incidental and someone else’s concern is king.

Only your spouse is bound to you in a way that makes your worries his/her own (whether he/she wants it to be so or not). Only your spouse is bound to you in a way that makes your success his/her own. He/she lives your life like you do, in the same way you live his/her life. There is no escaping it. And, no, it is not an automatic grant that magically comes with that little piece of paper that you signed. Beyond legalities and societal expectations, it is borne out of a deep sense of personal commitment.

To be each other’s anchor. Each other’s north. Each other’s light in the darkness. Each other’s rock. Every single day. No matter what.

Beyond finishing each other’s sentences, beyond walking everywhere hand-in-hand, beyond choosing to be on the same side of every argument, beyond loving the same things, beyond hating the same things, beyond doing everything together, that is the essense of marriage.

In the movie “Shall We Dance”, Susan Sarandon’s character delivered one of the most profound lines I’ve ever heard in cinema. It was definitely not foremost in my mind when I took the leap, but the moment I heard it, it struck a chord because I appreciated the truth behind it.

To the question, “Why is it do you think that people get married?”, she replied:

“Because we need a witness to our lives. There’s a billion people on the planet. I mean, what does any one life really mean? But in a marriage, you’re promising to care about everything. The good things. The bad things. The terrible things. The mundane things. All of it. All the time. Every day. You’re saying your life will not go unnoticed, because I will notice it. Your life will not go on unwitnessed, because I will be your witness.”

When I was a child, I used to wonder how on earth my parents got together. Mother and Father were as different as night and day, their interests as different as black and white.

Then I met the Hubby.

Took the leap. Got married.

Today, four years to the day I walked down the aisle, I finally understood.


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Happy 4th anniversary, Sweetie! Here’s to more years of noticing and witnessing. Kahit na ayaw mo na kumain ng pesto at ayaw ko nang mag-tennis. Haha. ;p

CELEBRATING MOTHER / MAY 25 OF EVERY YEAR =)

Every year, celebrating my parents’ (separate) birthdays has always been special. Except for one year when Father’s party was cancelled in deference to Lola Thelms (who was then at the hospital), end-May and mid-December have always been earmarked for clan celebrations in House Better.

This year wasn’t any different, save for the fact that for the first time in years, we didn’t have a camera on hand (oh, yes, I do want to kick myself for not having one ready). That said, I suppose I would have to write this blog the way I used to write blogs before I discovered I could actually append photos to them—I would just have to attempt to recreate everything from memory with as much detail as possible. =)

For as long as I could remember, I looked forward to Mother’s birthday celebrations. Typically held on the last week of May, it was the literally the culmination of summer for me. I anticipated it not just because birthday parties are always happy occasions, but because I always looked forward to the other tradition that everyone else looked forward to every time the end of May rolled along.

When we first moved to House Better, Mother did away with the usual ornamental plants, flowers and Bermuda grass. Having been born with a dominant practical gene from Noni’s side, she, instead, had carabao grass and all sorts of fruit-bearing trees planted in the garden. Never mind that they didn’t particularly go well with the Spanish villa theme of House Better. Roses, no matter how beautiful, wilt. With fruit-bearing trees, well, at least you get to eat the fruit.

And so it goes that we had a dwarf mango tree in one corner, a santol tree somewhere in the middle, a langka tree on one side of the backyard and a guava tree (the traditional ones that yield small fruits for sinigang) right outside Bro I-gue’s bedroom window. Somewhere in the garden, we also had rows of calamansi and siling labuyo. At a certain point, we even had rows of bananas and papaya trees. Oh, yes, I lived in a real-life Farmville when I was a kid (which probably explains my current fascination with the darn game, haha).

Anyway! I digress. =)

Mother’s birthday celebrations always coincided with the full-blooming of those trees—never mind that their flowers start sprouting at different points in time. The anticipation inside me bubbles up and grows as the flowers of the mango and santol trees slowly give way to small green fruits until they finally grow into a multitude of big, yellow orbs that dot the green foliage. Somewhere in the garden, the banana hearts slowly peel, layer by layer, to reveal the small fingers within that eventually grow into either long, yellow latundan (or were they lakatan?) or into stubby, fat and brown saba. By then, the papayas would also have ripened, and the langka fruits would have been heavy and fragrant, ready to fall off the tree. The guavas, if I remember correctly, seem to be available year-round so they’re really no biggie to us kids, except for that one year when Father—with his typical naughtiness—brought home several giant guapples from one of his trips (guapples weren’t as widely available back then), and tied them discreetly with straws to the branches of the guava tree. I remember how loudly I laughed when Tita Thelms rushed excitedly up the guava tree only to guffaw herself silly while perched up on the ladder when she discovered that the guavas were “fake”. =D

Every year, we’d wake up to hear the dirty kitchen abuzz with activity as Mother cooked one of her signature dishes (one year, it could be roast beef with mushroom gravy, another year, it could be roast chicken, another year, it could be mechado, etc., etc.) to match the staple soup, steamed crabs/shrimps (high impact, low stress, she says, haha), inihaw na liempo or BBQ, manggang hilaw with bagoong, etc., etc. In the far, hidden end of the backyard where the dirty kitchen was built, the maids would also be busy firing up the charcoal grill, peeling the mangoes, chopping onions and tomatoes, even as they remain on their toes, ready for Mother’s further directions.

Us kids (along with Father) knew better than to meddle in the goings-on in the kitchen at that time. It was literally a no-fly zone: no kids AND Father allowed. Haha. Bawal kami makigulo at panggulo lang daw talaga kami. =) Instead, we would eat breakfast leisurely until the party tables and chairs were delivered. That was our task: to set-up the tables and chairs (which have since evolved from the wooden folding chairs and tables of yesteryears to the plastic monoblocs of today) under the trees, careful to choose the right spots. Our objective was to provide protection from the noontime heat while minimizing the possibility of having the guests bonked on the head by a wayward falling fruit.

Every single year, for reasons I could no longer remember, us kids and Father would always have a discussion as to where the tables should go.

“Eh, last year, that’s what we did, eh di ba….”

“Eh, mainit diyan mamaya….”

“Eh…….”

Hahaha! Hay! ;D

I suppose because of the series of third quarter storms, a good number of branches inevitably get cut off by the raging winds, so much so that by the time next summer came along, the branches would have grown back in different directions, effectively rearranging the patches of shade under which we can set up the tables and chairs. And so, year after year, we would set up tables…..then rearrange them……then rearrange them again. Success came only in the form of plaid rental tablecloths finally being laid out on the tables; it was the clear signal that an agreement has already been reached to everyone’s satisfaction. (Buti na lang, hindi kami ang assigned sa kitchen! Haha. ;p) Setting up the citronella candles on each table was the final touch.

By around 11:30 am, uncles, aunts and cousins would slowly be trickling in, by family, by batch. By then, the food would have been laid out on the buffet table. The electric fans would have been set up in strategic locations in the garden. Mother, Father and us kids would have been squeaky clean, fresh from the shower. There would have been no trace whatsoever of the stress and chaos that was House Better earlier that morning. It was time for celebration. =D

Over lunch and tons of food, chatter would be incessant, laughter boisterous. Never mind that, back then, we actually used see each other practically every week at Eduardo’s. There would always be something new to talk and laugh about. During birthday celebrations, however, the decibels always seem to go up several notches higher. Haha.

And so it goes that we would while the day away, practically glued to our seats, getting up only to either get more food or something to drink. Lunch would slowly give way to after-meal coffee which would then give way to afternoon merienda until it was finally time for Mother to blow out the candles on her birthday cake.

My siblings, my cousins and I looked forward to the ceremony because after the candle has been blown and the pictures were taken, we were—finally!—allowed to take and eat as much of the sugar flowers on the cake as we want.

The blowing of the candles had an entirely different significance for the adults, however. It signaled open-season on the fruit-bearing trees. Some would end up on stepladders. Others would reach for the makeshift “sungkit” that Lolo Danding once made out of bamboo and wire, as the others stood by holding out their shirts/skirts, ready to catch the fruits as they fall. Still, others (usually Tito Art) would literally climb up the trees to either shake the branches or pick the fruits by hand and throw them down to the people waiting below. Celebrating Mother’s birthday was literally harvest time in House Better, and the freshly-picked fruits went into sando bags along with packed food from whatever was leftover from lunch. Lootbag! Mother-style. Hahaha. =)

This year, we celebrated Mother’s birthday—as usual—with a lunch party at House Better. Same rituals on food preps and table set-ups—except that all the trees (save for the Santol) have been uprooted, at one point of another, by the different super-typhoons that have ravaged Metro Manila in the intermittent years since we were 10 years old. That said, even the Santol is no longer the same. The years, I suppose, have finally caught up with it. It still bears fruit, but the fruits are decidedly fewer and much smaller (closer in size now to the local santol fruits compared to the Bangkok santol-sized fruits it used to yield). The fruit trees have also since been replaced by bromeliads, euphorbias and other ornamental / flower-bearing plants. Even the banana that sits in one corner of the garden is now of the ornamental variety. With the kids all grown-up, I suppose, Mother has learned to tame her practical side and allowed herself to finally pursue those that she really loves for no other reason than just because she enjoys them. As she added each year to her age, her garden evolved along with her.

For this year's party--with the fruit trees gone and a new generation of kids running around Eduardo’s and House Better--I suppose a new tradition needed to be put in place. It came in the form of plastic inflatable pools that were set up under the Santol tree which kept the kids entertained all afternoon and the adults free for lunch, for coffee, for merienda, for never-ending stories, for boisterous laughter, for catching up on each other’s lives.

While the details may have changed, some things will always remain. Life. Family. Love.

Happy birthday, Mother!

May you live long enough to celebrate your 50th Golden Anniversary (even if walang renewal of vows, haha), to see Maia, Raya and Siobe dance on their 18th birthday, to see them walk down the aisle, etc., etc.!

Love always,
T&T =D


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I typed this on Word but refrained from posting it to my blog until I have fine-tuned it. Last Thursday, my siblings and I woke up to a text from Father telling me that he rushed Mother to Makati Med because she was experiencing chest pains. Thursday afternoon, we were told that tests have confirmed that she had a mild heart attack and that an angiogram would be necessary to confirm the extent of the potential damage on her heart. She had the angiogram early Friday morning which confirmed that an angioplasty was necessary (but that thankfully, a bypass was not). We always complain about work stress, but we now know that nothing compares to the stress of having one of our parents in the hospital as everything hung on the balance.

Mother is home now, and thankfully, much better, but that was quite a scare. So may I just reiterate: Happy birthday, Mother! May you live long enough to celebrate your 50th Golden Anniversary (even if walang renewal of vows, haha), to see Maia, Raya and Siobe dance on their 18th birthday, to see them walk down the aisle, etc., etc.! We love you! Mwah! =D

THE MOM & POP SERIES: PART 1 =D

Sometimes, I get surprised. It may be an ordinary Sunday at Eduardo's with everyone in a post-lunch huddle at the garage over butong pakwan, pinipig suman and brewed coffee. Then Patita, GB, Ray*-B and Kirstie would come barging through the front door--some holding scratch paper and colored pencils, the others holding mismatched plastic plates topped with oversized plastic pizzas, hotdogs and fries.

"Here's your order, Mom," GB would declare, holding out a plate to Cousin Trix--never mind that we never really "ordered" anything.

"That'll be P10.00," Patita would declare, handing over a piece of paper with doodles all over it as Ray*-B giggled by her side.

"My turn!" Kirstie would shout out, and just like that, she'd be off running back inside--conveniently forgetting that she did not get any order from us.

The others take it as their cue to run back inside, only to come back out with a new set of dishes for the "diners" at the "restaurant".

Then, it hits me. We used to be the kids who'd run to and fro, pretending to cook, serving baked mud as chocolate cake to our unfortunate parents, titos and titas.


The wheels of time have turned. We are now the parents, titos and titas. Our parents have turned into doting lolos and lolas.

The past few years have made me more aware of our mortality. While the Eduardo's group continues to be a crazy bunch of people, things have been decidedly different after we said goodbye to Tita Thelms first, then Tita Eds, then just recently, Tito Jorge. We continue to talk about them with fondness and laugh at their past antics as boisterously as we would have if they were still with us physically, but really, the loss of our loved ones have brought on, for me, a heightened sense of appreciation for those who are still with us.

When we were kids, I remember Mother fussing about Noni and Daddy Iston, and Father always considering Lolo Danding in his plans. So we grew up with a trunk-full (a gigantic trunk!) of memories rich with the presence of our parent's parents. I don't think Mother and Father deliberately did it so we could grow up with tons to reminisce about. As far as their parents were concerned, I suppose, they really did it so they can "give back". Not that they were being required, but because they wanted to.


The wheels of time have turned. And so, these days, we do (or at least we try to do) as we saw them do while we were growing up.


Now, Father and I have always belonged to a mutual admiration society. Being his firstborn, I suppose, allowed me that privilege. Mother used to say that when Father is in a bad mood, the clouds of gloom and doom are automatically dispelled as soon as I walk into the room. (He may deny it, of course. I don't think anyone will believe him, haha!). When I was younger, I was the quintessential Daddy's Little Girl. As I grew up, our relationship evolved into one of easy friendship (laughter all around) even as the respect between father and child was clearly established. Although....uh.......on occasion, maybe not, haha!


"Father, can I go to with so-and-so to so-and-so's party this Saturday?" I'd ask nonchalantly.

"Hindi," he would say decisively, not even bothering to look up from his paper.

"Ba't hindi????!!!" I'd jump up, hitting him playfully on the arm, half-meaning the playful scowl on my face.

"Eh, ba't nagtatanong ka pa?!" he would reply, suppressing a laugh.

Such easy banter would not have been possible if I didn't have the kind of relationship I had with my Father. On most occasions, I got away with it. On those occasions when he really felt I shouldn't go, he had a ready answer, "Sa mommy mo ikaw magpaaalam." Ngyar.....=S

I suppose to establish some sort of balance, all parents decide that in any situation, one must play the "good cop", the other must play the "bad cop". Truth be told, Father can never be a disciplinarian. He'd attempt to sound mad, and Sister Pusjing, Bro I-gue and myself would all be guffawing by the second sentence of reprimand. Ngyar...=) In any case, with Father away most of the time for work, the task of disciplining us crazy kids unfortunately landed in Mother's hands. (Truth be told, I don't think it's a role she relished, but it was a role that she probably felt she needed to take on.)


To say that I didn't have the easiest relationship with Mother growing up would be an understatement. The fact that I was the firstborn who necessarily had to "test the bounderies of what will be allowed and what will get you in heaps of trouble" made it so. Don't get me wrong. Love and respect was all around. It's just that, I suppose a stubborn, independent-minded teenager and a strong-willed, protective mother do not exactly a match-in-heaven make. Mother used to tell me, "Pagtanda mo, maiintindihan mo...." and I remember my arrogant, 16-year old self thinking, "Nooooo way....not eveeeeeeeer!" The irony was, at some point, I've come to realize that--like some biblical prophecy--her words of old did begin to ring true. These days, my sister and I marvel at the fact that to a great degree, "we have turned into Mother". Haha. =D Which is why, I suppose, I'm appreciative of the kind of relationship I have with Mother now. With me no longer needing to prove anything, and her no longer needing to worry that I would be foolish enough to sneak out on a Sunday morning to jump off some plane, Mother and I have finally (!) met somewhere in the middle. We have finally become more than just mother and daughter; I'd like to think we have finally become friends. =)

And so, while my teenage and early adult years had me dreaming of moving out of House Better to live in a place of my own so I can finally "do what I want to do", I soon realized, no more than a few months after I moved into House Pioneer, that I practically spend the entire work week wishing for the weekend so I can go home to House Better. HAHAHAHAHA! =)

Spending the weekend bonding with Mother and Father is something we all look forward to (we defined as Hubby Sweet, the pups and me), but getting to spend time with them out of the usual confines of House Better is always special. (Such will be chronicled in this series. =)) I suppose, there is something blessed about being able to share our "adult world" with the very people who reared us from childhood to become the very people primarily responsible for the kind of adult life we enjoy now.

The wheels of time have turned.

It is now our time to give back. =)

THE SIMPLER WAY =D

OK. So I was reading my directions to 6404 Camia and even I got confused. Haha!

Take two. =D

Go to Estrella from EDSA. On the street between the old Metro Club and SC Johnson, turn right. On the first street (Camia), turn left. Park as close as possible to Coz-Kuts, the parlor. The restaurant will be among the doors to its right. Look for the 6404 on top of one of the doors.

Ayan. =D

6404 CAMIA =D

So this may be a bit late because practically the entire local blogging world has been abuzz about this place since...uh....two months ago. Still, I suppose, there's merit in writing about it as it has figured in several of our key occasions lately: Valentine's Day, Hubby Sweet's Birthday and First Dinner Out with My Visiting In-Laws.

I first heard about it from our CFO who couldn't seem to stop raving about it.

"There's this hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant near Rockwell," he would say, "It's owned by recent migrants from China who couldn't even speak English! And it's not regular Chinese food," he would continue, "It's Hunan cuisine so it's really, REALLY spicy. Sarap!"

More than just rave about it, however, he practically hauls over everyone who would care to go with him to eat there for lunch. Now CFO has a Thai wife who is excellent at cooking; he is used to spicy food and is not beyond eating everything with fresh siling labuyo. So it got me fully intrigued that he has brought even our expat visitors to eat there, only to come back raving even more about how everyone loved the food and how their eyes watered at the spiciness of practically everything in the menu! "I even asked them to tone it down because I wasn't sure what Mr. So-&-So's tolerance for heat is," he usually exclaims, "but even with 'medium-spicy', we were really sweating!" (Mental note to self: request for mild spicy when we go there.)

Now, there are two things you ought to know about 6404 Camia (that's more the address than the "official name" which escapes me at the moment):

(1) They will not charge you for ambience. There is none. White walls. No decors. Wooden tables and chairs. Just about it. Heck, even "house water" is served on recycled 1.5L Coke PET bottles. Table napkin is unheard off. In their place, you would find a roll of toilet paper in a plastic container. Diners are even allowed to come in their basketball jerseys and slippers. It's like there is this big, invisible sign: "Please leave your pretentions by the door. They are not allowed inside." Haha. =D

(2) Bottomless rice. None of the sticky bottomless rice at Mang Inasal. This one is all about fragrant, long-grain rice. The servers are not about to volunteer the information so it is pretty much passed on from one customer to the next through word of mouth. There is a reason this rice cooker sits in plain view in the middle of the dining area (yes, in plain view--didn't I tell you there was no ambience? =)). It is so you can get up and get your own rice refill--as much as you want, as often as you want. =)

We went there first on V-Day, before proceeding to RCBC for the restaging of Rent. Now, it hardly seemed like an appropriate place for a V-Day dinner, but we really were averse to queuing (and on V-Day, there usually are queues even in Pizza Hut, ngyar). I suggested that maybe eating in some hole-in-the-wall, off-the-beaten-track Chinese restaurant may be the better option. I was pretty sure Hubby Sweet would be intrigued. He likes eating in places like these where it's really less about the ambience and more about the food. Our V-Day dinner consisted of the "bestsellers" and the highly recommended dishes. Given CFO's warning, we decided to go slow and requested that everything be prepared with "mild spiciness" only.

"It's our first time," I felt like telling the waitress, "Please be gentle." Haha. ;p On to the line-up!

Hot Pot Duck. There are several hot pot versions on the menu, but on this, our first visit, we decided to go for one thing that we probably won't be able to order easily from anywhere else. The serving size was good for 3-4 people, depending on how big their appetites are or how many other dishes they order. It pretty much reminded me of the Adobong Itik that one of the Test Kitchen girls (who lived in Pateros) used to bring for lunch sharing. I liked it, but I suppose, with all the hype, I wished we did not request that the level of spiciness be toned down. Next time, Hubby Sweet and I agreed, we will level up to--at least--medium spicy. =D

Gong Bao Chicken. Or Kung Pao Chicken if you're more familiar with the term because of all those American sitcom reruns you've been watching. Now this has become a regular part of the line-up everytime we go there. I LOVE Kung Pao Chicken, but before 6404 Camia have been unable to find a restaurant that serves a decent version. Oh, joy now that I've got a place to go to everytime I need a fix! Happy, happy. Joy, joy. ^_^


Boiled Dumplings. Now, this I ordered because everyone kept telling me it's like eating Dong Bei dumplings. Now, I haven't eaten Dong Bei dumplings yet because I haven't been anywhere near Binondo lately so I thought, maybe, this is my chance. I had high expectations though, thinking that it would approximate the dumplings Hubby Sweet and I had during one of our trips to the side streets of Mongkok. I remember that day clearly. Tired, we decided to just plop down in one of the "carinderias" where no one really spoke English and this lady was preparing dumplings right in the middle of the dining area, a steel basin (batya, yes) in front of her filled with...uh...dumpling fillings. So we asked to taste. It was divine. I was hoping to replicate it here, but was disappointed. I found the dumplings a bit bland for my taste. It wasn't bad. It's just that it wasn't what I expected. It tasted more like fresh gyoza to me. Oh, well. =)


Mapo Tofu. We ordered it only because the Hubby needed a protein fix, but I suppose we can skip it in future visits. There are other more interesting dishes to try. =)

Egg and Seaweed Soup. This was not really part of the plan, but the Hubby was going through a cough spell and he desperately wanted something to soothe the throat in preparation for Rent. He didn't want to be known as the man who kept on coughing at Orchestra Center. Haha. =D It tasted....uh....medicinal. I suppose if I had a really bad flu, this would be the one mean soup that could get rid of it. Hahaha. =D


On our next visit (for the Hubby's birthday), we decided to keep the Gong Bao Chicken and try other things on the menu. He was on a quest and right there and then, we decided that while we will retain our favorites in future visits, we will have to try something new everytime we go.

Boiled Fish with Spicy. I kid you not. That is the name written on the menu. Now, I'm not particularly a fan of fish. Especially not of boiled fish! I like my viands strongly flavored and fatty. Haha. But this one....oh, this one, I loved. ^_^ As soon as they set it down before us, Hubby Sweet and I looked at each other. Thought balloon: "Oh, we are sooooooooo in trouble." Slivers of white fish swimming in red soup. Oh, yes, it looked like it was definitely "with spicy". Haha! =D With one sip, Hubby Sweet declared that if Gong Bao Chicken is going to be my staple at 6404 Camia, this was going to be his! Game. =D

Twice Cooked Pork with Tofu. I stupidly asked, "Miss, maanghang ba 'to?" The waitress cheekily replied, "Ma'am, lahat ng pagkain namin maanghang." Hmp. Haha. Anyway, I meant to ask what they mean by twice-cooked, but the owners don't speak English and the servers don't really know how the dishes are prepared. Never mind. 'Twas good--a new taste at least. The tofu, in particular, had a different taste dimension. The Hubby suspects that it was made to rest first in a soy sauce-based marinade before being sliced and cooked. I actually liked it, but wouldn't really mind bumping it off from the menu in favor of some other new dish to try next time.


Steamed Pork with Buns. Ain't it pretty? =) The servers recommended that we eat it with buns. You'd have to order the buns separately though. I originally thought it would be a glorified version of Asado siopao. Haha. I was wrong. Expecting the meat to be sweet, I was actually taken aback when I first bit into it and found it salty. Maybe I should've eaten it with the bed of pickled vegetables it was served with to get a full appreciation of the taste, but I never did like the taste of pickled vegetables (I grew up thinking they were food decor, haha) so I didn't. I asked Hubby Sweet to taste it, but he was too distracted by the Boiled Fish to even give this one a serious try. Oh, well. I had the time of my life using the steamed buns to sop up the sauce of the Gong Bao Chicken and of the Twice-Cooked Pork with Tofu though. Haha! How plebian. =D

Hot Pot Spareribs. Last weekend, my in-laws were in town for a visit as Hubby Sweet's sister was flying in from San Francisco sometime this week. So we decided to bring them over and in addition to the Boiled Fish and the Gong Bao Chicken, we decided to give this hotpot dish a try (basically because, this time, it was going to be the "designated pork dish" in the line-up). 'Twas OK, but I felt that they may have overcooked the spareribs a bit because I found it to be a bit dry (despite the fact that the dish was actually saucy). Oh, well. I suppose this means, we would have to try the other pork dishes naman next time.

Fried Lamb. Now, I'm a huge fan of lamb but have never really tried it "fried" so I was actually wondering if the game-iness would be too overpowering. I loved and decided that this will be part of the staple now. Woopee! =D (Forgive the hazy picture. I was rushing the photo because the Hubby looked like he really wanted to devour it ALREADY! Haha. =D)

On our last visit, Hubby Sweet also discovered that they now serve more than water in recycled PET bottles and softdrinks in can. Tsing Tao Beer has arrived! Double woopee for him! Yahoo. =D

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Giving directions to 6404 Camia to a first-timer is the equivalent of leaving direction clues for The Amazing Race contestants. It's the kind of place that people-who-know have to struggle with everytime they are asked exactly how to get there. The first time I heard directions to the place, there was instant recognition on my part only because it ran right smack in the middle of the "shortcut" that I usually take through the maze of Guadalupe Viejo sidestreets on my way home to House Pioneer. I use the word "shortcut" loosely because on a by-kilometer basis, going straight up on EDSA would definitely be the shorter route, except that one can save up at least 20 minutes by going through the traffic-less sidestreets. (I digress.)

Now, when first-timers finally hit a "eureka-moment" on the street directions, the entire thing begins all over--this time with having to identify which apartment along Camia they would be welcomed to dine in (as opposed to all the other apartments they may accidentally barge into only to find the entire family glued to either Panday Kids or Agua Bendita. Haha.)

In any case, these days, I just tell people to go up the Rockwell ramp from EDSA to get to Estrella. On the second street (between SC Johnson and the old Metro Club), turn right. They should see the Barangay Hall along the street. Otherwise, they turned on the wrong one. After turning right, they should then turn left on the first street (Camia St.). On the right side, they will see a beauty parlor, CozKuts--yes, CozKuts =)--and that they should attempt to find parking as close to it as possible. The restaurant will be along that row of apartments, to the right of the beauty parlor. They would have to look for the very small 6404 on top of one of the doors.

In all the visits we've had so far, our bill ranged from P1,000 - P1,500. Good enough for 4-5 viands with softdrinks and bottomless rice, right?

Go. =D

CRUISIN'..........=)

It's been a while.

As I drove down the entire stretch of the NLEX, traffic whizzed past me. I was alone in my car with nothing but music to keep me company. I turned the music up and sung to...errr....Michael Buble at the top of my lungs. (The CD was not mine, but it was the only one on deck coming from a weekend in House Better and driving in the car with Mother and Father.)

"This all seems vaguely familiar," I remember thinking, despite the seemingly inappropriate standard music soundtrack. I felt the blood rushing through my veins just a tad quicker. I couldn't help but smile.

I haven't driven down any long stretch of road alone in quite a while; it was something that I used to do quite often during The Wander Years.

"Dang!" I thought. I wish I still had the Charlie's Angels CD that I used to keep in my car. I laughed at the memory of me and BFF Gnet driving home from Malate in the wee hours of the morning, hands waving, heads banging as....uh...."Independent Women" blared out from the speakers. "All you women, independent," I would shout out, "throw your hands up at me...." Hahaha. =D

Those were my days of independence. Being the faster driver compared to all the other girls(except BFF Marts), and I suppose, being the more willing one (in addition to BFF Marts) to hop onto a car to pick-up and drop off everyone else, I was more often than not the "designated driver". I suppose the fact that I did not have kids to cook breakfast for and a husband waiting for me to arrive before the designated time also counted for something. I can come and go as I pleased. Ergo, I would be most flexible when it comes to time.

Those road trips from the Wander Years brought us to Punta Fuego for a Marketing teambuilding session, to Tagaytay for a coffee-planting tour, to Clark for a salescon, to Anilao for a weekend's stay at BFF Carmi's place, to an airstrip near Santo Tomas for a weekend skydiving adventure, to somewhere south for a visit to my cousin as he dealt with drug rehab, etc., etc.!

I was on my way to Fontana, this time for another salescon. Everyone else had to take the bus, but work, quite unfortunately prevented me from staying the entire three days. So I was driving to Angeles instead so I can attend Day 1 (for the serious business sessions) and drive back to Manila in time to submit RAOP requirements to Finance the following day.

This was my first salescon out of Marketing; my first salescon in Demand Management. And while the salescon (and the simultaneous covert parties in the villas that happen every night) is always fun, it is just as well that I needed to get back to Manila. In the past few years, I have been away every time the Hubby's birthday came along as it always coincided with salescon week. The bright side to me not being required to stay for the entire duration of the salescon this year is that, for the first time in years, the Hubby will actually get to wake up on his birthday with me by his side. (Woooohooooo! I am assuming, of course, that...uh...that's what he wants. Haha! =D)

I stopped by the Shell Station in Tabang. I was supposed to meet Judith there (one of my finance officemates) at 10:30 a.m. to make it in time for the opening lunch at the salescon venue. She lived in Bulacan and decided it would be too inconvenient to go all the way to the office at the Fort only to ride the bus that will take her all the way back to Pampanga. I offered to give her a ride, but I arrived too early. Not to worry; I came prepared. Just the day before, I had given up all hope that I would find Cousin Trix's New Moon copy (that I seem to have misplaced) and decided to just buy a replacement copy from "A Different Bookstore" in Serendra. I wanted to see the movie, but have always had this thing about reading the book first before seeing the movie. Waiting for Judith would give me time to finish a good part of the book (which, come to think of it, I started reading Holy Week last year! Susko...=)).

I skipped over to Starbucks and decided to forego my usual coffee frap for a chai tea latte. It seemed to be the healthier choice. As I settled into one of the comfy couches--cup of latte on one hand, book in the other--I couldn't help but smile.

I haven't done this in quite a while; it was something that I used to do quite often during The Wander Years.

Back then, Saturdays would find me driving to ATC (Alabang Town Center) where I would go to Powerbooks to pick my book of the week. From there, I would go to Cibo where I would eat my Spinach Dip with Crostini and Il Classico Pasta at a leisurely pace as I pored over several chapters of my newly bought paperback. I would stay until I realize that Cibo actually needs my table already to serve other customers, after which I would ask for the check, pay the bill, and scoot over to Cafe Breton next door for coffee and dessert. There, I would eat my crepe and drink my coffee at a leisurely pace as I pored over a few more chapters. Saturday was my de-stress time. Never mind that I seemed like a loon eating alone in restaurants. While I absolutely love being with family and friends, sometimes, a really good book is all the company that I need.

Judith arrived soon enough. Teenage angst between vampires and werewolves would have to wait. It was time to go.

We roared down the remaining kilometers along the NLEX to Fontana and got there with time to spare. Had lunch with the Marketing folks. Attended the inspiring salescon opening and kick-off. Had a quick chat with everyone else after the sessions. Congratulated everyone who deserved to be congratulated quite enthusiastically. Said goodbye.

Soon, I was back on the road. It was just a little after 5:00 p.m. "Perfect!" I thought. In the middle of summer, it just means that I will get back to Manila (and more familiar territory) before it gets dark. Hubby Sweet would be surprised. Earlier that day, I told him that if the business sessions end too late, I would stay overnight in Fontana and just drive back early the following day. He agreed that it was the most prudent thing to do, and quite honestly, probably expected that I will be staying over.

As I drove down the entire stretch of the NLEX, traffic whizzed past me. Once again, I was alone in my car with nothing but music to keep me company. I turned the music up once more and sung to...errr....Michael Buble at the top of my lungs. Strangely, however, this time, there was no hankering for the Indepent Women anthem of my Wander years.

Earlier that day, the song blaring out the speakers seemed highly inappropriate. It now seemed particularly apt.

Let me go home,
I’ve had my run
Baby, I’m done
I gotta go home

Let me go home
It’ll all be all right
I’ll be home tonight
I’m coming back home........

I hit the repeat button and sang all the way back.

ONE LAZY, SATURDAY AFTERNOON....=)

'Twas turning out to be a good Saturday all around. We got home to House Better early enough and Banzo had just about wreaked enough havoc in the garden, pulling on leaves and flowers, as Buster J chased all the birds away. Hay....Santa Barbara.....

After a quick breakfast, Hubby Sweet rushed off to Elorde for his new weekend passion, boxing. Soon after he rushed out the door, I rushed off to my all time favorite weekend passion, sleeping--which just about explains the big difference in our physical shape these days. (Hey! Round is a shape. Hmp. Hay...*Insert sheepish grin here....=D*)

He got back (and I woke up) just in time for lunch. Having run out of things to do after lunch (and with the pups sleeping, tired from all the running around in the garden), Hubby Sweet decided to go to Gourdo's for some kitchen equipment. I had decided early on to use Saturday afternoon to finish my slide presentation due Monday morning. Being the great procrastinator that I have always been, however, that "resolve" pretty much sealed my slide presentation's fate. (I ended up deferring actual work to late Sunday evening. Never mind that I practically had to subsist on 4 hours of sleep. Hay! =)) I decided lying around "feeling guilty" about not working isn't the way I wanted to spend my Saturday afternoon so I told the Hubby I'd tag along.

The thing about me is that while I cannot cook to save my life, I actually find it relaxing to watch cooking shows and browse around in places like Gourdo's. I never buy anything there really, but I find the merchandise....uh....pretty. Every single time I go there, I end up wishing I could cook so that I can find some use for all the things I want to buy. But I don't cook so I just browse. =)

As the Hubby looked around the serious kitchen utensils section, I went to another part of the store where they sell...uh...ready-to-eat bottled pasta sauces, imported food stuff, etc., etc. Haha. Deep inside, I squealed with delight when I set my sight on one of the bottles on the shelf. Claude Tayag's XO Sauce. ^_^ I've always heard people talk about it with reverence, but until then, I thought I would have to go all the way to Bale Dutung to give it a try. Apparently not. Yey! I decided to buy one bottle to try in House Better.

It did not disappoint. (The pic above was taken only one week later. Half-full na lang because apparently, Father puts it on practically everything! Haha. =)) Dried shrimps, Chinese ham, red chilis, garlic, spices, mushed together into a "sosier" version of the traditional Chinese chili-garlic. That is actually not a fair description. Claude Tayag's XO Sauce is exponentially several level-up higher than any Chinese chili-garlic version I've tried. That's saying a lot, actually, considering that I love the usual version enough to literally pile it on every time I eat in a Chinese restaurant. =) I suppose it's the Chinese ham that adds the unusual sweet-salty-fatty linamnam to the spices. Heaven in a bottle. Thought balloon: I must hoard the next time I go to Gourdo's. Haha. ^_^

Now, quite unexpectedly, back to that Saturday afternoon, as I made my way to the counter, I heard my name called out from across the room. I turned to look and squealed with delight (outwardly this time), "BOOTSIE!!!!!" We haven't seen each other in ages. We used to hang out a lot when I was still single and her husband, George, still worked at the Tomato & Pineapple Company. She called out to Ysa and right there and then, I realized we really haven't seen each other in ages. Ysa was no longer a little girl; she was already a sophomore in ICA. Naku!!! Running into an old friend unexpectedly is always a joy. Arm in arm, we went around Gourdo's browsing and talking endlessly about what happened to whom and when and why...naku! Chismis nang chismis. Haha! =D

Soon, however, Hubby Sweet went up to the counter with his loot, and I realized that we really must go because right before we left House Better, I told Father that we will be bringing home merienda. At about that time, the clock struck 4:00. Ngyar. =D

We paid for the merchandise and with a really tight hug, I said goodbye to Bootsie and Ysa. (The old gang really should get together again soon. =))

As far as merienda is concerned, Hubby Sweet and I were on a mission. Earlier that week, I literally gasped when I checked out the Dessert Comes First website to see a post on La Paz Batchoy. If you clicked on the link, you would understand why I just had to have a taste of that darn batchoy! Haha. =D

Getting to the Alphaland Southgate Mall was easy enough. Finding Deco's inside took quite a bit of time as there seemed to be an absence of guards to ask and most of the stall owners did not know what we were talking about. After going around in circles up to the third (fourth?) floor, we finally located a guard who told us to go back down to the first (!) floor. We would find Deco's in one of the coves beside Mang Inasal. We finally found it eventually! (It was a very small cove. Hay.... =D)

I won't go through the entire history of Deco anymore as it was really the generous toppings and the idea that its broth was sebo-free that convinced me to try it.

"Seven orders for take-out. Extra-special. Yung six with miki. Yung one with miswa," I ordered from the lady in the counter (yes, Deco's is parang fastfood). While waiting for everything else to be ready, the Hubby decided to get his Batchoy with Miswa fix right there and then. (He had been pretty cranky in the car already and getting his hunger relieved is the only sure-fire way to lighten his mood.) Deco's Batchoy is a magic potion. With the first sip, Hubby Sweet's grin returned--stretching from ear to ear. =D

I sneaked in a few sips just to give it a try. To be quite honest about it, it took everything in me to stop myself from actually devouring the entire bowl! Haha. My batchoy craving would have to wait until we got back to House Better.

Our take-out orders came in properly-sealed styro bowls with the soup packed separately in big plastic bags. Mother seemed perplexed when we brought home only seven bowls, but with soup enough to fill a big cauldron. Susko! I suppose, that's because we would have gotten the benefit of bottomless soup if we had eaten everything in the outlet (yes, bottomless, refillable soup). Just right, I suppose, that they give us more than enough soup in case we want to do the same at home. I'm loving Deco's already. Really. =D

This is how my take-out batchoy looked like before I poured on the beef broth. Noodles buried under a ton of pork slices, slivers of liver and crispy pork chicharon. Cardiac delight in a take-out styro bowl. Haha!

I poured on the soup and miraculously, none of the ingredients turned into mush. The chicharon, in particular, retained the crispness it had even after being soaked in broth for quite some time. I refilled my bowl with soup before devouring everything else. (OK, fine. I was practically snorting the soup up my nose and figuratively shoving everthing down my throat. Haha!) Soon, I experienced the heady feeling that comes with food that is sooooooooo good, but also soooooooooooo deceptively deadly. Hahaha. Ngyar. I don't mind. Deco's La Paz Batchoy was worth it. =)