Sweets and the Tooth Fairy

Hi Readers,

On our last night in Dipolog City, we dined out at Chicken Ati-Atihan, which served unlimited rice.  I ordered Ati pecho ( tender chicken breast ) and Pandan Shake.  Conversations started with talk of a new house, family eating together, and finally the tooth fairy.

When my cousin was younger her mother told her that if a tooth from her upper teeth were to fall, she'd have to throw the tooth up to the roof; and if it were to fall from the bottom row, then she'd have to put her tooth under her pillow in order for the tooth fairy to reward her.  She became a believer after finding money the next day on her way to school.

Then we started talking about a home method of removing loose baby tooth by tying a string around it and pulling it ( using a strong force such as slamming a door, ouch? ).  My cousin's 6 months old baby doesn't have any teeth yet.  His diet consists of milk and flavored mush.  He automatically opens his mouth when food comes his way, and once in a while he'll dabble in apple cranberry juice ( pucker face ), squid broth, lugaw, jelly, and others.  He's such a fierce eater already!

I'm reminded of all the sweets I've had since arriving in Dipolog City: ube shake, queso ice cream, melon ice cream with fudge sauce, vanilla ice cream with pinipig nuts, chocolate cake, marshmallows, Durian candy, jelly candy, cup cakes, halo-halo, merengue, Milkyway, banana-Q, and soda.  I remember all the cavities I had when I was younger; I dreaded going to the dentist.  That night I brushed my teeth twice and flossed in between.

Left: Black Forest, Caramel Mocha Crunch, Ube Cake, and Mango Crunch.

Mindanao: meditation ( part 6 )

Kamusta Readers!

Lately I've been losing things.  Among those things lost are battery and time.  I'd wake up at early hours ( before the sun rises ); I'd wake up and the days of the week were indistinct; I'm reminded of the days by tricycles advertising their day off.

I'd take my morning stroll.  Roosters crowing at the top of their lungs ( so strained ).  The clouds would be different; the waves would be angry or mellow ( rolling ).  The sun's rays either sharp or diffussed and soft.  It looked like it was going to rain.  Does is matter if life is whether weather or not? ( kung ang buhay ay whether weather lang according to Kuya Kim ).

Sitting on a rock or the pavement, breeze blowing, back warmed by sunrise; my silhouette pulled out from the shadow of the boulder.  The ocean--breathing in and out--rose and fell like one's chest.  Crabs spit out by the ocean; torpedo birds zigzagged in the sky; dragonflies hovering before darting.

Back home, I sipped hot ginger milk tea.  A shower, a meal, a trip to the internet cafe.  A moped ride: road traffic stretched beyond the two lanes, where give and take dictated the right of way.  Siesta and tv during the hottest part of the day, listening to people tell their life stories.  MERIENDA. Another meal.

Cool wind has arrived.  Off to the Boulevard.  Sun sets behind the veil of clouds. Wink. Golden ring swallowed by the sea.  Oyster session cancelled because of yesterday's storm ( making oysters muddy ). Dinner. Slap! Flattened mosquitoes on skin; blood stains on mint green walls.  "Cluck, cluck, cluck," our friend, Lizard clicking and eating mosquitoes and other pests.

Is it time lost or time spent? Appetite regained; spirit rekindled; perspective revised.



Left: Morning at the Port; siesta in DAKAK; downtown Dipolog City; sunset at the Boulevard.



Mindanao: Merienda and Linabo Peak ( part 5 )

What's up Readers?!

Where in the world can eating at least 4-5 times a day ( outside the essential meals ) a regular past time? Philippines of course, where this art of snacking ( whether healthy or not ) is abbreviated to merienda.

After a light breakfast, I already started feeling the heat of the day.  I heard the chime of the ice cream cart; the vendor just started his round, and I didn't know when I'd see him again so I convinced my cousin to get us some ice cream.

She went to work, while her husband, and my other cousin got ready to climb the 3003 steps of Linabo peak ( highest in Dipolog City ).  During Holy Week, tons of Catholics would make a pilgrimage here to pray and relive the 14 Stations of the Cross ( dying like Jesus as they climb to the top ).  After reaching the 3003rd step, we found a rest area and had bananas and cheese sandwiches to recharge.

Although going down is easier ( gravity on our side ), our knees still shook.  Drenched in sweat, all I could think of was eating something sweet and cold, so we got HALO-HALO.

It was mid-day, and the heat was still stifling.  On our way home, we got Banana-Q ( caramelized plantains ), and sugared bananas.  We'd eat them later after our siesta ( nap ), and while watching telenovelas ( reading was an option also ).

We picked up my cousin and went to the Boulevard to watch the sunset.  In the gloaming, we had mango smoothie with evaporated milk and balot ( 16 days old unhatched chick boiled in salt water ).

Balot is like an instant chicken noodle soup sans the vegetables.  You crack it open and sip the broth.  Any conceivable chicken parts ( head, eyes, beak, neck, etc ) are like limp pasta noodles easy to slurp.  The rest is like a regular hard boiled egg except the yellow part is tastier, and the white part is gummier/chewier.  It can be disgusting if you think about it too much, so swallow Weird Al Yankovic's words and, "just eat it!"



Left: Caribow in rice field, house in Linabo Peak, view from Linabo Peak



Mindanao: improvisation in home cooking ( part 4 )

Hi Readers!

Home cooking is such a domestic affair that this endeavor has been a bit difficult to do for an adventurer ( moi ), who is constantly traveling and on the road.

I'm the type of person, who feels more comfortable with structured learning first before free falling into improvisation ( just the way I was wired ).  Exposure to the the latter technique definitely helps.  After Dakak, we stayed at my cousin's home in Dipolog City, and had time to experiment.

The first dish my cousin cooked involved Sambagon ( a fish with a meat as chunky as tuna and beef ), tomato sauce, and pineapple bits ( on the spot labeled as Pesces de Robenito or Baby Rob's Fish ).  She and her husband stumbled upon this recipe through family hearsay, experimentation, and necessity.  Sambagon can at least be sauteed in Adobo sauce or fried.

I noticed that fresh ingredients were bought in small quantity and used immediately ( refrigeration is still susceptible to brown-outs/black-outs ).  Packaged food, such as noodles, instant coffee, powder milk, and flavorings were likely to be purchased in bulk ( depending on storage spaces ).

Next day's dish was made by my younger cousin ( Adobo octopus in coconut milk ).  First he boiled the octopus to soften it.  Then he used butter as oil mixing in the chopped octopus.  He added sliced onions, garlic, and ginger before mixing in the soy sauce, vinegar, and coconut milk.  And finally, the secret ingredient: Magic.

Forget about strict proportions. An octopus tentacle ( 3/4ths? ); one red onion ( smaller than a kiwi ); a piece of ginger ( same size as red onion ); 1 coconut ( 12 ounce ); and the rest were measured by intuition.  Process is prominent in the art of improv home cooking.

From Left: Wet Market, fresh octopus, Pesces de Robenito with rice, fishing at the Port.

Mindanao: Super Squid and Singkil ( part 3 )

Singkil

Hola Readers,

We ended our last night in Dakak with dinner.  We ordered squid galore: tempura, calamari, and sizzling squid.  While eating, we watched a cultural show.  I was drawn to the last dance involving ornate golden attire, sequined fans, and bamboo logs.

According to my cousin, this dance is called Singkil.  It's a traditional ritual dance before marriage.  Looking at the picture, the golden girl is probably the bride and her maid of honor is the girl holding the umbrella.  Islamic aesthetics are present especially in the intricate patterns of the dress ( avoidance of imagery? ).  Something about the movements and poses reminded me of Egyptian statues: very rhythmic, stylistic, mannerism-esque, and regal ( perspective about the body different from the Renaissance point of view ).

I drank fresh buko juice and tried the watermelon shake.  Since it was my birthday ( 10/15 ), we received a complimentary cake; it was great to be sang to as well.  The strong winds blew out my candles; waves pounded the shore, rain falling, crabs out of their holes combing the beach.  "Wonderful World" played on.

The night wouldn't be over until some drinking occurred.  I knew I reached my limit when I became splotchy ( alcohol poisoning or allergy? ).  I was still able to wake up at 5:30 am the next day, and jogged along the shore.  Bubbles and foam hissed and fizzed as they sprint up for the sandy finish line; some receded back into the waves, while others popped in ecstasy.


Singkil: Elegant dancers skillfully amble across snapping bamboos.