A VALENTINE DRAMA - and Some Little Japanese Munchies

I have been turning down a few Valentine dates recently- mostly the invitations of the stalker types. (Scary, isn’t it, your phone ringing in the middle of the night?) First because I am too busy with the new restaurant, and next is because I am simply not in the mood for anything sickeningly romantic these days. And coincidentally my chart says that although career and financial success is high, my love luck is at rock bottom after reaching its orgasm, er, height last year. I am advised not to contest the Tao but rather focus on the more important things.

Well, the only person I declared as the object of my affection in the blog sphere is the character of Mr. Hun. Unfortunately, his chart says that Mr. Hun must be extra careful this year as the deities (I’m not sure if they are frowning at him recently) advise him to be very cautious. Robberies, money loss and arguments might ensue as this is not the right time to engage in risky businesses nor long-time affairs. Focus is career. Mr. Hun knows that already. And besides me hanging good luck charms at auspicious directions of my house for his protection, I feel secure that Mr. Hun and myself will be distant this year. If it will be for good, doesn’t matter.
Mr. Hun will be in seclusion. I had also asked Mr. Hun, to help me pray to the gods that I survive the darkest hours of my life.

While lovers in the world are exchanging cards and making love and baking goods with aphrodisiac whatnots, Mr. Hun and Foodhuntress parted at the gates of that monastery where he is set to seek enlightenment. That is his way of defying unlucky prophecies. But I couldn’t believe the drama.

- Mr. Hun could not help but shed a tear.

“I could never love anyone as much as I love you, Huntress (sniff… prsst…), but I am not as free as I want to be. I must serve my purpose lest I complicate things even more.”

“Ssshhh… poor darling, it’s alright, take it easy. Didn’t you tell me before that sometimes we must feel hollow inside to resist self- centered emotions? - why are you crying?”
Mr. Hun buried his face in his hands and sobbed uncontrollably.

(Hugs… kiss.)

I don’t know the reason why I didn’t feel sad at all. Probably my tears are more expensive than truffles… or I just see this event as an ordinary occurrence of life – like the end of a stage play. If there’s a sequel, it’s for the Director to decide. Or, are the teachings of Mr. Hun- about ‘detachments from the world’ now in full use and it is directed at him by his apprentice- that even his detachment, his absence, no longer matters?

I didn’t worry. Although Mr. Hun will sleep only four hours at night and live on a diet of pickled radish, I think I saw a dilapidated Kama Sutra tucked under his robe. If we will no longer see each other and he performs the acrobatics there while we’re apart, that’s not my problem. He is a man- no more, no less.

Meanwhile as I walk away quietly in that sakura- printed kimono, I was thinking of it all. The reason why I could unlock the mysterious codes of my life is because I do not settle too much on the things that slip away, but on what I gained from them during their passing. Mr. Hun watched me grow up. From an unrefined, aggressive self- centered individual into someone who’s just ‘in the flow’, and finally to living my life with so much grace that I could have anything I wish for in life. Lifting that cloak of doubts and fear, Mr. Hun made me see that the world indeed is full of sunshine.

He was that quiet spectator, mentor and peacemaker. That love opened a lot of possibilities that I never knew ever existed – even if such possibilities were conceived in disillusionment or imagination, in a snap, they all come true anyway. Simply because he taught me to BELIEVE. What better gift compares?

If you happen to know who this Mr. Hun is, he is definitely not an angel nor a saint nor a monk, but you would see that such radiance likened to little rays of sunshine, are emanating from his fingertips.

LOVE, like wine, it tastes much better with time. Like a passionate encounter by the fire, it is better when slower, where you discover in every inch, the dark secrets of a kiss. Like an unspoken wish, it is much better when you cast it into the Unknown and let the Unknown create the picture it wants.

For now, this is what we celebrate-

A love that is bestowed with the truest and deepest yearnings of the human heart: a real sense of freedom.

Go, and fall in love!

************************
I shoved my hand into the deep pocket of my kimono and found these little packets of colorful cookies which I placed on Mr. Hun’s hands and lovingly folded his fingers over them. He got teary eyed again but I squelched immediately the attempt to cry with a warm hug.

A simple gift-

- as colorful,




- as interesting,



- as sweet…

.... as some love story.


Happy Valentine’s Day!

Breathe, Take a Walk… and Shoot a Goat

I need to have a breath of fresh air. Pachelbel’s Canon in D is playing in the background, piano solo. I would like to take a walk.

There are two choices we make in life: the difficult and the easy. How many times have we heard those clichés about the road less travelled, no guts no glory, and whatever motivational whatnot-

Oftentimes I have felt my soul filled with so much gratitude for receiving all the blessings I have. And there are also times that I noticed that the higher we go, the more that we should not be afraid to fall. Or that the more amount of success we are aiming for, the more that we must be willing to accept failures along the way. I have no problem dealing with failure. I am in the heart of everything that I truly desire, and here I am surrounded with all the abundance I see.

There are bad days, though. Days when you start questioning if being an accidental executive chef before you’re thirty years of age is a blessing or a curse. You start questioning if the gods are playing dice with the universe, and, when they saw you out there in the crowd, they pulled you by the hair, and- zap! gotcha. I knew that from the start there are many people out there who can cook better, who can chop onions faster, and have more impressive resumes than I do. The gods could have played with someone else! You start questioning what your destiny has got to do with all of this mess you’re in. Why can’t my life be just simple? Cook, go home and sleep?

I’ve been through that hellhole yesterday. The boss exploded his wrath and disappointment. An important food tasting will have to be conducted for this group with whom we are bidding the place. But because I am not destined for doom, some forces conspired to cancel that event and move it on a later date when we are more ready. Not now when things are still way too premature. It is not good to disrupt a work in progress. Over the weekend, some sauces were ruined in the fridge (technical & natural causes), and unfortunately there are no close alternatives for them around here. Hence, that food tasting was rescheduled for some other date.

On the other hand, it was such a learning experience if you work closely with a boss whose view of food business is by the numbers, i.e., the proportions of the recipe, the standard weight, the price, and how many plates would make his cash register go ka- ching! ka-ching!

I have long emotionally and spiritually prepared myself for these. I knew that after my training in Japan, the expectations would escalate. (Screw those expectations.) Because they spent for you (again, the language of business is, $$$$$), the upper -ups are looking at you like a fish in a bowl and expect you to perform acrobatics overnight. Sorry to disappoint you, messieurs, for some reasons, I have my own way of doing.

Some people have this tendency to rush and rush things and go through methods like those business plans in the graduate school. System. Create a system. Follow that system. And when you follow that system, you are expected to be successful. What actually goes through that system is a lot of red tape and little bureaucracies that delay the process even more. I am not saying that systems don’t work, but I am not sure if the Harvard reviews and frameworks during my MBA days ever helped me. I don’t even remember any of them. What I noticed is the more I follow such system rigidly step by step and try to manipulate the physical world around instead of just relaxing and trusting the process, the more that I screw up my life.

Last year when the idea of a neo- Japanese cuisine was presented to me, I felt a great sense of excitement and adventure. First of all is because I saw Japanese cooking as something that is too perfect that I had such high reverence for it. Now the gates of the cuisine opened and introduced itself courteously, and with much less resistance I allowed myself to be carried into the flow and discover gracefully its impeccable beauty. You discover, create, re-create, and even after a few trials, though you are dramatically improving, you are still way far from that immaculate perfection. Every night before you sleep, you think of it; when you wake up, you think of it – not because you are being paid to be a chef but because you are ever asking questions and your sense of wonder does not seem to fade away. You started out as a blank slate. Your passion rules you. The cuisine is your newfound love. You introduce yourself to it. What used to be your instant coffee at breakfast is now a cup of freshly- brewed tea, just so you will experience the play of the astringent and fragrance on the roof of your mouth.

Do you remember in the culinary school, you spend so many hours just learning about a potato, and that it isn’t enough that you just use canned mushroom, but know as well how the mushroom grows? Do you remember how you used to wonder why the croissant was shaped that way, why puttanesca is called that way, and do you remember how many times you have to do yet again the mighty brown stock?

All that system and ‘skeletonization’ crammed too much too soon into my brain is what makes the whole project stale; when all that we are after is how to rake in the bucks – the sooner, the better- instead of creating a perfect, original dish that the people wouldn’t forget. I wanted each and every plate to be an unforgettable work. I envision a craft, a new way of fusing cuisines not yet existing in our city, experienced altogether in a great dining experience.

How boring can it get, when the measure of the unagi is price comparison rather than what dish goes best with it? Why are we scrapping out what seems to be a novel salad because we only have to revolve around three dressings? How boring can it get, when the trip to the market is given to someone else because you have to stay in the office to do the costing? I’d rather feel the soramame in my hands than spend the whole afternoon tinkering on a boring spreadsheet. While that is all necessary in the end, I still believe that in the process of creation, you are 100% involved: touch, feel, taste, smell, sight. Savor each and every moment you spend with the food.

This is what got me fuming the other day. I was gritting my teeth out there while discussing the menu, and if we were bulls, me and the boss would have locked horns and threw each other on the opposite sides of the room. It was not about the sauce that got bad in the fridge, (maybe the elves in the fridge just decided to interfere) but the fact that I was being hurried to do things double time because this and that, this and that – because there had been many ridiculous pressuring forces from all sides and probably they were expecting me, again, to perform miracles overnight. What’s the rush all about? Hey, even God created the world and man and woman in 7 days- and He’s a God. On the other hand, if something unfavorable happens beyond your control, it is when nature is speaking the loudest to us – some things aren’t just meant to be.

And after much overhauling (from the menu we created last year where we cropped 30% and introduced new 40%) and tugging and pulling, I was expected to present a perfect 78 dishes (beverage not included) in three weeks without a sous chef? Grant me that benediction, Sensei Morimoto-san!

I hardly remember a day that I worked mumbling and grumping. Quite the opposite in fact, I thought I was enjoying it too much, the boss mistook it for not having a sense of urgency and organization. He must have thought I wasn’t taking his business seriously. Well, I was at the height on non- resistance, the height of play, and for sure, if I paid any attention to what is going on outside, maybe we’re already both insane before the restaurant even opens.

I was very still during the discussion. I could have the choice to cry or walk out. Instead I raised my brows, marched to the powder room and put on some lipstick. Maybelline Red Wine. By all means, I have to feel beautiful: I’m going out there and win my battle.

And while I was combing my hair, I was thinking, they can think about cutting costs and greater profits, but I would still insist that we put that lace doily under the bowl of French onion soup…

But what puzzles me is that the boss was in a very good mood the rest of the afternoon.

*******************************

Inhale the afternoon air. Somewhere nearby, a pretty little goat.

See.... :)

“Bring yourself out there. You are better than you think you are”.

– Lea Salonga, Miss Saigon

Sink to Float

Example, you have a very important taste test on Wednesday, and Monday, your stocks got spoiled. You have to import those stocks from another country, which would take about a week or so...

Good God. Whatever happened? Why? Why? Why?

You said, "Boss, I blew it."

The next thing you know is, you're in a hellhole.

And when everything simmered down, you beseech the Source. Speak, Thou, your servant is listening...

--------------------

"Failure is the foundation of success, and the means by which it is achieved."Lao Tzu

"Haste in every business brings failure." - Herodotus

"I have missed more than 9000 shots in my career. I have lost almost 300 games. On 26 occassions I have been entrusted to take the game winning shot . . . and missed. And I have failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why . . . I succeed."- Michael Jordan

Failure is a prerequisite for great success.If you want to succeed faster,double your rate of failure. Brian Tracy

"Remember the two benefits of failure. First, if you do fail, you learn what doesn't work; and second, the failure gives you the opportunity to try a new approach."

Roger Von Oech

"The better a man is, the more mistakes he will make, for the more new things he will try. I would never promote to a top-level job a man who was not making mistakes...otherwise he is sure to be mediocre." - Peter Drucker

"One’s best success comes after his greatest disappointments." ––Henry Ward Beecher

Failure is the opportunity to begin again more intelligently." Henry Ford

"When one door closes another door opens; but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door, that we do not see the ones which open for us."Alexander Graham Bell

"Failure is the condiment that gives success its flavor."Truman Capote

"Keep these concepts in mind: You've failed many times, although you don't remember. You fell down the first time you tried to walk. You almost drowned the first time you tried to swim. . . . Don't worry about failure. My suggestion to each of you: Worry about the chances you miss when you don't even try."Sherman Finesilver

"We pay a heavy price for our fear of failure. It is a powerful obstacle to growth. It assures the progressive narrowing of the personality and prevents exploration and experimentation. There is no learning without some difficulty and fumbling. If you want to keep on learning, you must keep on risking failure — all your life."John W. Gardner

"A shy failure is nobler than an immodest success."Kahlil Gibran

Pleasures, riches, honor and joy are sure to have care, disgrace, adversity and affliction in their train. There is no pleasure without pain, no joy without sorrow. Or the folly of expecting lasting felicity in a vale of tears, or a paradise in a ruined world."Gotthold

Before success comes in any man's life he is sure to meet with much temporary defeat and, perhaps, some failures. When defeat overtakes a man, the easiest and most logical thing to do is to quit. That is exactly what the majority of men do."Napoleon Hill

"You'll come back, because yours is an error of knowledge, not a moral failure, not an act of surrender to evil, but only the last act of being victim to your own virtue. We'll wait for you and when you come back, you will have discovered that there need never be any conflict among your desires, nor so tragic a clash of values as the one you've borne so well."Ayn Rand

There. Get up.

http://www.motivatingquotes.com/

The Anmitsu Anatomy

Anmitsu is a popular Japanese dessert similar to the Philippine halo- halo.

Here's a bowl of the mighty anmitsu.

1. SHIRATAMA- These are balls of glutinous rice made from the shiratama-ko, or the shiratama flour. You pour a small amount of water, form little dumplings, drop in boiling water for about 2 minutes, then plunge in an ice bath. I can't get over this. Next time I'll make furutsu- shiratama. :)

2. FRUIT CUBES- You can actually choose the fruit you want. I chose mangoes.

3. AZUKI/ “AN” – The Japanese will correct me for this. The "an", or the azuki paste is what makes anmitsu an anmitsu. But I placed whole azuki beans for texture. (Exception to the rule :)

4. YAM PASTE- I spared the "an" and adjusted the paste in the form of a purple yam paste.

5. KANTEN JELLY- Seaweed jelly.

6. UMEBOSHI– "Ume" - the Japanese plum. Umeboshi is dried Japanese plum. I used dried Japanese plum here, as it gives the dish a somewhat pickle-like exotic flavor.

6. MATCHA ICE CREAM - The recipe calls for a few drops of food coloring in addition to the green tea-vanilla mix...hmmm... not right now. A few sprinkles of matcha powder to garnish.


Serve on a chilled bowl, under all the food is a bed of crushed ice. Served with syrup called the "mitsu" which is made from Japanese brown sugar. Though I prefer it sans syrup because it already becomes too sweet.

A Simple Lunch

I didn’t know that my boss would be taking pictures of the lunches I make him. He’d send an SMS while I work at the restaurant, “Will be there in 30 minutes. Prepare the food, ok?” He wanted his lunches to be different from what we have on the current menu.

But one day I sent to him my USB for a work- related reason, and he gave me the pictures.

Kyuri Salad w/ Black Sesame

Spaghetti with Summer Vegetables and Shimeji Mushroom

Baked S’s Risotto: Shrimp, Scallop, Salmon

Fruit Cup

I am now considering two positions in my resume: Exec/ Personal Chef.

And hey, Boss, what about the pay?

Boss: (Mumbling) Don’t flatter yourself. Go back to work

My Ex- B and the Perfect Croissant

Too early for the grocery the other day, I sat down for a cup of coffee at my former boss’s café. I have had a few trips to this charming French café/ bakery/ restaurant even way after I was kicked out of his face. Can’t help but reminisce.

Ok, I wasn’t really kicked out. Four years ago, like a black sheep, with a sob and ultra drama, I slammed on the floor a clump of pastry dough and cried, “I want a life that is mine!”

Yeah right!

I worked with Boss Mao (though not his real name, anyone in Manila knows who this man is) for a good five years. Five years in a boot camp. Fresh out of college, I entered his kitchen and bakery with my sleeves all rolled up and dusted with flour. That was when I truly experienced my arms aching with mixing batches of muffins (you know the large wire whip), applying the balm for burns on my arms, and folding the pocket doughs, glazing the tarts and danish pastries, baking the perfect brownie, making crepes impromptu (while the customers wait and- either kill you with their gaze or smile at you sweetly), rising the vol au vent shells, learned of the mother sauces, the bastard sauces, and learned as well to manage the brats who pocketed some money, and bullied the oven technicians… But topping all of these minor things is the fact that I experienced the tutelage of Boss Mao.

Boss Mao, a Chinese Francophile, is a multi- awarded, hardcore businessman counted among the outstanding Asians of the 21st century. He is a no- nonsense perfectionist who has never made a false note with the decisions he makes. A stickler to discipline, Boss Mao speaks like a dragon (i.e, “Hands off my dough!” “Will you put on some lipstick? You’re paler than a butter croissant!”) and works like a dragon – no politics, no walsy- palsy, no cronies, no grapevine rumors, no favorites.

And of course, I have my own share of experiences there. There was this ultra pretty and popular food writer who had complained about my lousy service and wrote Boss Mao about my demeanor, yada..yada..yada… I think she wanted my head on a platter- en gelee! (Hahaha). Of course Boss Mao believed her- she’s in the media. I was 22 years old and stupid.

Then there was Mrs. Boss Mao who I really pissed off, until I got face to face with the dragon himself. I saw the fury of Boss Mao – directed at me! It was a long story- but the case point is, for all that perfection he expected of us, I have failed tremendously. Seriously flawed. Not to mention, he even told my other bosses then (or at least in my own perception) – that I needed psychiatric help. Oh yeah.

Still I don’t understand, maybe Boss Mao was just ultra generous (or made a big mistake on this), but he promoted me three times in five years, and doubled my pay within five years from when I first came. I have had that reputation of being his headache and causing unforgiveable troubles in the company. A black sheep indeed! Eventually when his wrath simmered, he sat down with me and the jury board and said, “You’re smart, you’re pretty… if you can’t invest your career with us, you can always find the job you want.” Either he meant it or it was his way of kicking me out- the soft- sell technique, you know :)

Boss Mao is the undisputed leader in the artisan bakery business in the country. Even when I went to Hong Kong two years ago, cafes remind me of Boss Mao’s- and still I believe he is highly competitive and classy. Even the Portuguese tarts in Macau nor the profiteroles in Kowloon, Boss Mao’s are much better. There is no other bakeshop in Manila who does a more perfect croissant nor baguette nor bagels than Boss Mao. I can say it because I’ve tried looking around for my restaurant today. Hunted, tasted, dissected – nothing compares.

Hell, yes, I love this Boss Mao. I wouldn’t have reached where I am now if my foundation wasn’t built firmly with that inspiration.

*******************
Good morning! (no croissant yet during my visit. Too early- they were still in the oven).

The Watermelon Cure

Have you ever had that tendency to, you know, go back to those childish ways when you stand outside the candy store and, finally having the penny to buy that precious candy, you faithfully wait until the store opens? I don't know how to phrase it perfectly. But somehow that feeling doesn't really go away - it just comes in a different form as we grow older. Apparently, this time it is no longer candy... but... but a vintage pair of flamenco shoes. And it's red! - my fave color.

Nope, I am not that too impressed by brands. Whether it is a highfaluting Miranda Priestly kind of pair or handcrafted for me by a shoemaker (which my shoes truly are), if I like it, I think single- track. Besides I sometimes find it hard to get into Asian shoes because my feet, though not really long (Size 8- 9, depends), are webbed...hahaha... no, they're quite like a boy's (for standing up too much in the kitchen). Oh well! Now- where are we?

Ok, outside that shoe shop in this strip of artists' boutiques (vintage shops, art shops, etc.) I wait until the shop opens. (See, I feel too smug in my orange clogs. )



Omg, that look was captured on cam. Frowning is bad luck.



Sans breakfast and coupled with a little anxiety for The Red Shoes... Foodhuntress ends up a little grouchy :(

So, pass on the cure. (A watermelon cart passes by).

A cool, juicy watermelon...

"...Now comes, my fellow travelers, the burden of my speech

These foods are rare beyond compare

And some right out of reach

But there's no doubt I'd go without

A million plates of each

For one small mite(One small mite)

One tiny bite(Tiny bite)

Of this fantastic ... Watermelon! "

Aw, gawd!

Finally the store opens and I got in. And tried the watermelon- colored shoes...



And they fit perfectly!




************

Omg, this post is so... duh!! What's the connection???