Monday, June 30, 2008

My passion for Chowking!

After being in the advertising industry for eight years, it is only now that I feel incredibly felicitous with one particular brand I am handling–– Chowking. I’ve been handling the brand for three and half years now and today it makes me look back to how my advertising career started.

When I had my first interview in J.Walter Thompson, they asked me what my dream account is. I gladly told them that Jollibee is my dream account. I also told them that I always wanted to do something that has to do with food that's young and fun. At that time, I saw that in Jollibee.

I graduated college and landed in different multinational agencies. I had numerous interviews and they always asked me “what is your dream account?” My answer didn’t change through the years. But after shuffling from one ad agency to another, I never had the chance to work on Jollibee. In 2005, I had Chowking instead.

Since the day I started handling Chowking, I've forgotten about Jollibee. I enjoy going to their test kitchen every time there’s a new product. It excites me to see the chef demonstrating how to cook the food while showing the ingredients he is using. It’s very admirable to see that Chowking is constantly innovating and improving their products for their consumers. In my heart I'm yearning for the chance to become an innovation chef. Since I’m in advertising and equipped with excellent culinary skills, I've always thought that these two important aspects would help me turn my dream into reality. As part of the agency that handles the brand, my delight about a certain product we are working on now is indescribable. It excites and surprises me because a lot of things will soon happen. I will gladly share to all of you once everything is already happening.

鮭のパン粉炒め/sake no panko itame


1 july 2008, selasa pagi

Kemarin pagi liat liat resep, ketemu nih resep ikan...liat liat lumyan gampang, nyoba bikin deh...n hasilnya lumyan enak ...

Bahannya mudah didapat
ikan sake/salmon 4 biji
2 siung bwg putih iris tipis
paseli iris tipis
8 sdk panko [tepung panir]

Caranya tuh ikan dipotong kotak dibubuhin garam lada
Tumis di perifan sampai matang, masukkan paseli n bwg putih, tutup, masak dgn api kecil.Trus masukkan panko, masak mpe garing...angkat.

Menu sehat, gampang n praktis...

Chervil is back

June 30

The herb that looks like parsley, but more delicate, and tastes like tarragon, but more shy, is back.
Chervil is a member of the classic French quartet known as fines herbes (along with chives, tarragon and parsley) and in 1999 and 2000 I saw sprigs of it on top of dozens and dozens of center-of-the-plate proteins. Then, like the herb itself, notoriously tricky to grow and fast to wither, it mostly faded from my sight. Maybe it was still around and I just stopped noticing after I wrote an 1,100-word feature on it.
Once an article’s written, I pretty much stop thinking about it.
But I’ve been noticing it again lately. It garnished a bunch of the things I ate the other night at Bobo, and it’s showing up elsewhere, too. I wonder why.

Ondas oníricas



(Music)

Las ondas oníricas sacuden la realidad como un terremoto devastador, viajando más rápido que la velocidad de la luz, sacudiendo las neuronas de millones de cerebro al unísono. Sueños que se tornan pesadillas; pesadillas reales o de fantasía; sueños húmedos, secos, ardientes, fríos… ¿Nunca nadie os habló en sueños?
“Soñad, soñad pequeños míos, y podréis cambiar vuestro mundo, ese mundo tan lleno de claroscuros, luces y sombras que bailan al compás de este vals macabro, de esta danza de muerte que es la vida que os ha tocado vivir”.
Su voz era profunda, grave… si hubiera podido tocarla, hubiera dicho que era áspera, pero dentro de ese tipo de aspereza que te gusta tocar y abrazar, que te gusta sentir sobre tu piel desnuda. De haber tenido sabor, hubiera sido agridulce, y desearía haber podido lamer sus labios hasta saciar mi sed.
“Calíope, mi dulce Calíope” me miró, con sus ojos vacíos y vidriosos; se acercó hacia mí y tomó mi cara entre sus manos. “Pequeña musa que despiertas mis más primitivos instintos… te miro y siento furia, deseo…”
“Usted se equivoca, Calíope no es mi nombre, es…”
Aprieta las manos sobre mi cuello, impidiendo que entre y salga aire. Son cálidas y suaves, fuertes, firmes; no tiene miedo de apretar… Tengo miedo, pero también siento placer, ¿no es curioso? Me aferro a sus brazos y le lanzo una mirada amenazante; eso parece agradarle y deja de apretar para sonreír con una mueca de satisfacción.
“Así que ahí estás” susurra, se acerca a mi oído “Te he estado esperando, dulce Calíope”
Ahora lo entiendo. En el mundo onírico, Calíope es mi nombre; y él es mi captor, mi amante, mi protegido, mi padre, mi amo, mi esclavo, mi violador… él fue y ha sido siempre mi amor. Un temblor frío recorre todo mi cuerpo, estoy realmente emocionada, asustada, excitada… las piernas me flaquean y mi respiración se acelera. Por fin te he encontrado…
Muerde mi cuello y emito un gemido de placer; recorro con mis manos su espalda y noto todo su deseo hacia mí. Le tiro del pelo y grita; una mirada le basta para saber qué es lo que tiene que hacer. Me tira al suelo, arranca mi ropa y yo le dejo que entre hasta mi alma, que viole toda la cordura que hay en mí, toda la locura que invade mi cuerpo.
“Meow”
Algo ha saltado sobre mí… ah, sólo es Kinesa, maldita gata… Abro los ojos lentamente, y observo que aún es de noche. La habitación está oscura, y la pequeña tormenta de verano es ahora un pequeño diluvio estival; lo escucho a través de la persiana. A pesar de ello, hace una calor asfixiante… Miro el reloj, son las cuatro y afortunadamente, no hay llamadas en mi busca. “malditos cambios de horario” me digo a mí misma. Y maldita la hora en la que me mandaron a esta ciudad a trabajar…
Un mueble cruje y, por un segundo, vuelvo a sentir su presencia, su respiración detrás de mi nuca, lamiendo mi cerebelo para hacerme perder el equilibrio. Debería de girar esa manecilla que hay dentro de mí, pero realmente descubro que quiero girar la tuya y darte un poco de placer, un poco de dolor.
Siempre está bien tener un poco de los dos.
(Extracto de "Calíope")

Sam Gae Tang, Sam Gye Tang

Chicken and Ginseng Soup


The belly rules the mind. ~Spanish Proverb

I ate this at a nice restaurant next to Tom And Toms in Suncheon.
One bowl One chicken is 10 000 won.
Considered Summer food . It is most popular on the hottest day of the summer.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Samgyetang


Benefits of Ginseng

" Ginseng is believed to improve blood flow, improve memory and improve thinking. The Chinese believe that if you drink ginseng tea on a regular basis, it can make you more alert. Improved blood circulation can also bring more blood flow throughout the body and increase energy and enhance sexual functions. Ginseng is also believed to reduce stress and help in relaxation and to improve sleep. Ginseng may also lower blood sugar and cholesterol levels and help to control hypertension. Ginseng can also increase longevity and slow down cellular degeneration." Find more below


Recipe

2 Cornish hens
1/2 cup sweet rice
4 pieces of dried ginseng root
6 garlic cloves
4-5 chestnuts "bam"
8 red dates "dae choo"
approximately 9 cups water
2 green onions, sliced into thin rings for garnish

Clean the chicken inside and out.
Trim any visible fat as much as possible.
Wash rice, ginseng, chestnut and red dates.
Stuff inside the chicken with rice and seal.
In a heavy pot, add chicken, ginsengs, red dates, chestnuts, garlics and ginger.
Pour water to cover the chicken.
Bring to a boil and turn down to simmer.
Cook about 2-3 hours until the bones fall apart. Skim out the fat on top occasionally.

You can buy the chicken and rice and everything you need pre packed in the chicken In most supermarkets for about 5000. All you got to do is cook it.



Video from Here http://www.maangchi.com/

Another meal similar to this is Dak Baek Suk(Steamed Chicken)
I ate this once at a nice restaurant outside town. We got a really big chicken first and rice in chicken stock after. It was one of the best meals I have had in Korea.

Ra-dish of the day

I am new to this gardening lark so the progress of the veggie patch has rendered me awestruck over the past few weeks. The tiny seeds that we planted back in April seemed to take forever to become seedlings and force their way through the earth. I checked them three or four times a day hoping to see a mini shoot parting the softly compacted compost filling the little trays in which we had planted everything. I’ve never been particularly patient so this whole ‘slow-lane’ life was something I would have to get used to, and quickly. If that makes any sense.

Eventually, they began to peep through, each little green shoot seemingly identical – only a series of hastily written labels informing us what was what. By the time they were ready to be planted into the ground, the soil had been warmed by the early May sun and a healthy amount of compost dug into the beds. They suddenly looked small and vulnerable, like they were toddlers about to have their first day at playschool and I wondered whether they would survive the harsh realities of life outside of a plastic greenhouse.

But survive they did and soon it was possible to tell them apart. The peas grew thin pasta like feelers with which to grab onto the bamboo canes we had planted them next to. The kale began to take on a dark purple tinge. The salads started to grow leafy and full, their soft plumes of green filling the bed and offering a seemingly endless supply of tasty lettuce. And the courgettes attempted to undertake some sort of bid for freedom, like some aggressive floral lebensraum.

By my reckoning they are expanding by a couple of square metres every day. They seem to double in size whenever my back is turned, expansive leaves encroaching onto the lawn, hiding the dark green fruits underneath. At this rate they will reach the coast in about a month. Nestled in between the courgettes and the leaves are the familiar pale yellow flowers which are delicious raw in salads as well as stuffed with spinach and ricotta before being deep fried.


But not all of the veggies have been a success. The radishes were, quite frankly, pathetic. Visually, they were amusing – a rag tag collection of Laurel and Hardy comedy roots, some swollen and distinctly radish like, others pathetically thin and whispy as if they had been stretched out of all recognition. The taste was disappointing too. I like a radish to have a bit of bite. I want to know about it when I pop one in my mouth. It should clear your sinuses, send a rush of pain up your nose and leave your eyes watering as if someone has just scraped your retina with a scalpel. The full frontal facial assault I was expecting did not materialise. it was more of a tickle than a barrage. Although the leaves, when tossed in a sharp vinaigrette, do make a pleasant enough salad.


But this is just part of the learning process, merely the beginning and there are plenty more where they came from. Luridly coloured rainbow chard, beetroot, potatoes, broad beans, butternut squash and purple broccoli are still yet to offer up their wares. Little red fruits are appearing on the cherry tree in the front garden and the herbs, sitting happily in small pots, send the occasional wave of fragrance towards the open kitchen door. This is summer.

Sunday, June 29, 2008

Empanada de atun,cebolla y tomate con rollitos de jamon york

Hi,

By Jackie:

- EMPANADA DE ATÚN, CEBOLLA y TOMATE, acompañada por ROLLITOS de JAMÓN YORK (EMPANADA filled with TUNA, ONION and TOMATOE, garnished with HAM ROLLS):

Image Hosted by ImageShack.us

If you like.... Links to recipe!

http://guisando.org/empanada-de-atun (SPANISH)

http://aww.ninemsn.com.au/article.aspx?id=262235 (ENGLISH)

Thanks!

Niña Clemente

Niña Clemente is the last installment for the month of March '08. She was late that night and I almost lost my temper because of waiting so long. She arrived and I remained poised and pleasant. Well if you think the night was ruined, definitely not! No matter what incident might happen I will never let my customers experience a bad date. In the end, Niña and I, along with her boyfriend had a warm and entertaining conversation. The Italian set meal again won another couple's heart.








Girar

El truco está en respirar, respirar detenidamente la atmósfera que nos rodea. hoy huele a pólvora, a humo y a tormenta. Las nubes no se vislumbran, pero escucho su tronar a lo lejos, a miles de kilómetros de distancia.

No seré la persona que te deje ahí abajo, así que toma mi mano y deja que tire de ti; no tengo miedo, no caeré al vacío; no me lo tomo como el resto de personas que conoces. Tal vez porque algo está girado dentro de mí.

Girar, sí, hay una pieza en mi cuerpo que no encaja, y me pregunto dónde está. Es eso que te hace defectuoso, pero a la vez especial. Tendemos a ver esos defectos como desventajas, pero... ¿quién dijo que no pueden ser una virtud? ¿Una forma diferente de ver las cosas? Todo depende muchas veces del cristal con el que lo mires, de cómo lo giras... y de la melodía que suena...

Desde que me dí cuenta de eso me gusta girar las cosas y tratar de verlas desde otra perspectiva. Giro fotos, giro el plato a la hora de comer, me giro a mí misma y a veces trato de girarte a ti...

Pero ¿sabes? Nunca sé si lo hago hacia el lado correcto.


Masoquismo cotidiano.


Soñando con los ojos abiertos;

tratando, sin éxito, de no perder la razón.

Disfrutando de mi masoquismo cotidiano;

Intentando no mirar tus ojos, intentando mantener el control.

Psicodelia con LSD caducado;

Endorfinas, neurotransmisores de la pasión;

Tus besos de mentira recorriendo todo mi cuerpo;

Epilepsia fría de sabor a vainilla, chocolate, fresa y sudor.

Sociópatas indiferentes,

Perturbables sólo por nuestro roce y el descender del sol.

La luna espía a través de tu ventana

Y vela por la dosis adecuada inyectada sin piedad.

Tus palabras crueles azotando mi oído,

Y yo susurrándome que no te quiero amar.

Muerdo tu alma, tú arañas mi espalda.

Los subterfugios ríen y se van.

Y sigo disfrutando de nuestro masoquismo cotidiano

Iluminado permanentemente por la insensatez.

Nunca fuiste capaz de confesarlo,

verdades a medias para sentir otra vez mi piel.

Mi lengua busca tu rincón más secreto,

el punto G virtual de tu interior.

Blasfemando obscenidades cuerdas,

fustigando nuestros cuerpos,

un arsenal de orgasmos sin perdón.

Mi mente sucia, mi cuerpo corrupto

Enturbiado por tus marcas de placer.

Tú sin olvidar el tacto de mis labios,

medias sonrisas, cómplices locos de atar.

Intelectuales desgarrándose a besos,

lamiendo el fuego de nuestra santidad.

Quieres que admita que soy tuya;

Un secreto, mentiroso infiel, que es de los dos.

Pizza in a Cup

Its Just Fun and taste is not so bad.



1000 won a cup


Down Town Suncheon


Down the street from Mac Donald's 

Easy Quick Perogies







Recipe 

Cheese 
Cream cheese 
Butter 
Potatoes 
Green Onions 
Salt and Pepper 
Dill If You Like 
Man Du Wrappers 
Egg

Cook the Potatoes and mash. Add cream cheese, cheese, butter, dill, salt and pepper to taste. Place a tablespoon in the man du wrappers brush the wrapper with egg  and seal . Fry some chopped bacon, onions and mushrooms. Fry perogies add bacon mix eat with some dipping sauce Cheese dip, sour cream  or salsa.




Saturday, June 28, 2008

Calíope



Las musas no dejan huella física, pero sí en el alma de los hombres que las llaman, a veces, suplicantes y lascivos, tratando de obtener su don.

De todas ellas, Calíope era la más sabia e ilustre, la más poderosa de todas las musas... es ella quien por las noches se arrastra bajo mis sábanas recorriendo mi alma con su lengua, insuflando aire directamente en mis venas para producirme una muerte que, segundos más tardes, es un renacimiento a la putredad del mundo que nos rodea; un mundo tan vacío y sin sentido como hermoso, inspirando orgasmos intelectuales dentro de mi cerebro.

Acabo de despertar y me parece seguir soñando; la diferencia es que antes mis sueños eran en blanco y negro, y ahora son en color; unos colores tan vivos que hacen daño a mis ojos, cegados por el brillo aterrador de este mundo decrépito y soberbio.

Pronuncia mi nombre con deseo. Ca-lí-o-pe. El éxtasis está a punto de llegar a ti. Te mostraré lo que hay detrás del velo, mi visión, la verdad.

JANGJORIM BEEF BOILED IN SOY SAUCE




Just to try something new I bought this. Jangiorim in a can.
Oh I really wish I had not. It is really tasteless and salty.

I do love it as a side dish when its fresh.

Here is how to make it. You need this .
1 pound brisket or shank
3 or 4 cups water
1 cup of soy sauce
1 cup of green pepper
1 tablespoon of sugar
8 boiled quails eggs
6 cloves of garlic

Cut beef soak in water for a while .
Peel garlic remove stems from pepper.
Boil water .
Put beef in .
Boil on medium for 30.
Add soy and boil again add sugar if u like it sweet .
Add peppers peel and add eggs add garlic boil again .
Test meat if it is easy to shred its cooked .

Friday, June 27, 2008

Bo Sam



Streamed Pork Leg



Shrimp sauce


Sides



Kimchi With Ice Pack

This place is not far from Tom Toms In Suncheon. Maybe 200m down for it . The seating is great you get to sit on the floor but there is a hole under the table to put your legs.
I do really like Bo Sam its really worth trying. Its 28 000 but is enough for 3.

Running The Race


“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.” Hebrews 12:1-3 NIV

On June 22, I competed for the second time in the Des Moines Hy-Vee Triathlon. It is a 1500 meter swim, a 40K bike ride, and a 10K run.

It is probably more accurate to say I participated, rather than competed. Man, did the scripture from Hebrews come alive for me. Along the way the mental baggage kept entangling me and slowing me down. You might be familiar with some of the things that hinder:
Why am I doing this? I can’t do it. It’s too much. I’m too slow. I’m too old. Everyone else is better than me. I should have worked harder and eaten better.

In the middle of the run I was weary and began to lose heart. I say, began to lose heart. I didn’t because of the participants and the spectators along the way. Almost everyone had a word of hope, a cheer, an encouragement in those moments when it felt like I could just sit down and give up.

What a picture of how the church should be. Supported by each other with words and actions of encouragement that help us let go of the unhealthy baggage of life. Encouragement for those fully engaged and for those observing. Encouragement that causes the weariness to dissipate and strengthens our hearts.

PR II : Kentang Panggang Saos Mornay

27 Juni 2008, Jumat Pagi

PR ke dua uda ditetepin dr Rabu kemarin, hasil kesepakatan bertiga sama Liz n Suz...Anggota ikutan game bertambah jadi 3 org..Ibu Suz ini menyusul ngikutan game ini, die berhasil menyelesaikan PR pertamanya tahu isi....wah..bner2 ganbatte deh kita kita..belajar masak...hehhe.. sapa lagi yang mo ikutan dipersilahkan...biar lebih seru....

So PR kedua gw berusaha bikin pagi ini...coz minggu ini bakalan sibuk.... Bahannya uda dibeli dari kemarin2 bareng husband, mpe die bingung mo bikin apaan si gw ini... Bahannya kentang,mentega,bwg putih n bombay,ayam giling,krim kental, telor,keju...wah banyak bener ya...kliatannya rumit liat resepnya, tapi setelah dicoba, lumyan gampang juga...hehehe

Campur semua bahan kecuali kentang...dimasak, sth itu adonannya dimasukkan ke kentang yg telah dilubangin tengahnya [gw kira susah buat lubangnya...ternyata pake sendok aja bisa kok]
trus atasnya taburin passeli buat pemanis....dioven 25 menit..

Pas makan malem, dikeluarin deh tuh kentang...wah husband mpe heran n takjub...hehe...kreatif juga katanya...bagus juga gamenya...en enakkk katanya....wah jadi semangat bikin lagi deh...
Kali ini gw cm bikin 6 buah....tapi langsung lenyap dimakan pas makan malem....enakkk...tapi ada kurangnya sedikit, kentangnya mgkin harus dibubuhin bumbu juga supaya lebih lezaaattt...

Trece


Trece segundos es todo lo que necesito para hacer girar al contrario las manecillas del reloj y ser perseguida por el conejo blanco hacia la madriguera, donde le enseñaré mis encantos ocultos por encajes de algodón.

El inquietante Frank me susurró anoche al oído que el dolor es camino del conocimiento; sentimiento primario presente en la Humanidad desde el inicio de los tiempos. Cuerda locura que a algunos enloquece de lujuria, ¿serás tú uno de esos? Sorpréndeme, me encantan las sorpresas.

Masoquismos ocultos en las sombras, pasiones secretas vetadas por el Sol; Sade lo susurraba en sus libros... no hay nada más sagrado que el dolor.

Trece segundo para hacer callar a la Reina de Diamantes y destrozarla a golpes, a mordiscos, violando hasta su alma... tal y como te destrozaré a ti en cuanto tenga ocasión...

Si no lo haces tú, lo haré yo.

Thursday, June 26, 2008

Knives

Does any one out there know where I could get a nice set of knives
I have been recommended these

Victorinox knives

And told this is what a set should be

A set of knives which should include:
1 Knife Case
1 chopping knife - carbon or stainless steel
1 x 6 inch filleting knife - carbon or stainless steel
1 x 4 inch vegetable/fruit knife - stainless steel
1 x boning knife - carbon or stainless steel
1 x 10 inch carving knife - carbon or stainless steel
1 palette knife - carbon or stainless steel
1 carving fork - carbon or stainless steel
1 peeler
1 sharpening steel
Melon Baller
Piping Bag and nozzles

I am also Interested in Japanese knives and am wondering if people know is it good to buy these here and if so where can I get them ???

Glaring lack of nudity


June 26

The last time I went to the opening of a The Pump Energy Food — in an office-building food court in Midtown East — beautiful people wearing, for all practical purposes, nothing but silver body paint were on display. Others, dressed in gym clothes and sprayed with silver glitter, were placed on various pieces of exercise equipment, half-working out and half just looking great. Young men with intimidatingly good bodies in strategically ripped sleeveless t-shirts were pouring frozen Margaritas.
Because, you see, The Pump billed itself as serving “physical fitness cuisine” and bragged about not having added salt, sugar or oil. That marketing technique has proven time and again to be disastrous for sales in restaurants. So often has food that’s supposed to be good for us tasted like it was made by sadists that we’ve learned to shun it. Put one of those heart-healthy symbols by a menu item, and sales of it will likely go down. Really, they will.
Attitudes have changed a bit recently, however, and this current wave of good-for-you menu items looks like it has more staying power than previous ones (remember the McLean Deluxe?).
I think a big reason for that is that the health food itself has changed. A lot of it tastes good now. And the marketing has changed, too — it’s not called health food anymore.
The food at The Pump has actually always been good, which is why it has managed to stay open in New York all these years despite signage that shouts at customers about how its food has no added oil. In fact, The Pump has quite a few devotees in New York — you can tell them by their muscle definition and by your ability to bounce quarters off their butts.
The little chain’s founder, Steve Kapelonis, and his wife Elena recently took on business partners and moved to Tampa. The new management, under CEO Adam Eskin, has decided to re-image the place: Change its décor from haimische to sleek; de-emphasize the low-fat aspect of the food and focus on its energy — a buzzword that sells food, especially if the people buying it are younger than 30.
“Last time there were naked people in body paint,” I complained to Steve, who was at the party with Elena. Because I'm not ashamed to say that I like naked people in body paint.
Steve introduced me to Adam, who introduced me to his consigliere Dan Fogarty (really, Dan’s business card says he’s the chain’s consigliere, and he took the picture that illustrates this blog entry).
Not long ago Dan was the marketing guy for Chipotle, where his title was brand leader and keeper of the faith. No fooling.
Adam looks simultaneously wonkish and like a guy who eats at The Pump. I also met operations manager Danny Lachs. People say he and Adam look like they’re related, but they don’t really. I think they just kind of occupy a similar space.
The guy who designed the new restaurant is Garrett Singer, whom I met back in 2001 when he was designing Tiger Blossom, the brainchild of Chris Cheung, who is now the chef at Monkey Bar.
Tiger Blossom failed to thrive — its opening in the summer of 2001 didn’t help — but the space was cool, with lots of found objects and a desire to combine elegance and an awareness that the restaurant was on the same block as the Hells Angels headquarters. Since then Garrett, who earned his chops working for Larry Bogdanow, has designed Klee and Hill Country as well as the new The Pump Energy Food.
Garret and I chatted about the food scene. We reminisced about Sono, a restaurant he helped design with Bogdanow where Tadashi Ono was chef. It closed right before 9/11 — I remember, because my colleague Paul Frumkin was going to write a little column about how it was too bad it closed, but then the towers fell and you couldn’t write anything about anything else in New York for the next year.
Despite the glaring lack of near-nudity, the party was packed, but it was time for me to go. My friend Kenyon’s band, Unisex Salon, was performing at the Bowery Ballroom.
Kenyon is a good-natured yet dark-humored guy with a gift for conversation and a voice reminiscent of David Bowie’s. Adding to his fan base, I think, is the fact that he looks like Jared Leto and often performs shirtless.
It was a good show, and it reminded me of how bad the sound can be at The Mercury Lounge, where Kenyon also performs from time to time. I think everyone else in the band, except for his drummer, of course, was new. He’d even added another singer. On keyboards was Brian Gumbel, a guy who, as far as I’m concerned, has revolutionized the tuxedo. He was jacketless, but the cummerbund was in place. The collar was open, and the bow-tie was tied instead around his neck, Chippendale-style. Kenyon, who was, in fact, shirtless, called it the“coitus interruptus James Bond look.”
So if that’s how I’m dressed at the next black tie event, you’ll know where I got the idea. But I have a feeling that it really only works if you’re on stage and have the looks of an Italian prince.

Cone, but not forgotten

South of Gamla Stan, across one of the city’s many bridges, lies Stockholm’s vibrant beating heart. Södermalm is achingly, effortlessly and unselfconsciously cool in the way only certain places can be. This is the city’s Soho where artists, musicians and writers pack into small and over-priced flats to compose their masterpieces. The shops are independent and boutique. The restaurants are ethnic and exotic. Cafés line the streets and music pours from open doorways – deep bass lines melding together and converging into a heavy morass that soundtracks your journey.

There is no pretence. There is no agenda. ‘Live and let live’ appears to be the philosophy that exudes from every corner. Closed doors tantalise with their potential secrets – you get the impression that the best nights are to be had in basements that do not advertise their wares. This is the sort of place where you have to be resident to truly appreciate it and we were merely visitors. And hungry ones at that.

Our desire to be as ‘free-range’ as possible when we travel cuts down our need to rely on guidebooks but sometimes it is impossible to ignore the lure of the Lonely Planet and that is exactly how we found ourselves in a Thai restaurant in the middle of Sweden’s capital.

Kho Phangan manages to skirt so very close to the realm of kitsch that it is amazing it doesn’t fall into a vast chasm of tackiness. This heavily decorated restaurant comes complete with a bamboo bar, UV lighting and even a table in a tuk tuk and yet somehow manages to maintain its dignity. It could be that tongue remains firmly in cheek and there is a nod of self-awareness. It might be because it is one of a kind and not part of a highly stylised chain of similar outlets. Or perhaps it is because the food is very, very good.


A half hour wait passed quickly at the well stocked bar which, in addition to three or four Thai beers, served the famous buckets of Mekong whisky and Red Bull, although at over forty pounds each we made do with a lager. As the minutes passed it became increasingly easy to forget that we were still in Scandinavia and not in an Asian beach hut and the level of detail aided this thought – the lighting, the drinks and even the sounds were reminiscent of Thailand and by the time our table was ready we were certainly ready to sample the food.

A complimentary salad, with a zingy lime juice and chilli dressing, served as an excellent appetiser while we perused the menu. One doesn’t go to a Thai restaurant to be surprised and, as expected, all the usual suspects were present including green and red curry and Pad Thai. Feeling as if I had probably consumed enough meat for at least a week (in the form of yet more hot dogs, and a steak the previous night), I went for a vegetable stir-fry with chilli and basil while the birthday girl chose a chicken curry. Both were delicious – capturing classical Thai flavours like lemongrass and ginger and delivering a hefty spice kick, enough to bring a few beads of sweat to the forehead. The vegetables were fabulously fresh and had been cooked for only a short amount of time, retaining a satisfying crunch. Delicately steamed plain white rice accompanied both dishes.

Knowing that a decadently tempting ice cream parlour lay in wait for us on the way back, we declined dessert, paid the bill and blinked our way back into the bright reality of early summer Sweden – the combination of strong Oriental beer, spicy food and UV lighting ensuring a few moments of confusion before we could head on our merry way.

***

I, like many others, have formed an inextricable link between holidays and ice cream. It is a foodstuff that I adore but doesn’t often appear on my radar and consequently makes only rare appearances in the freezer. But holidays provoke some sort of Pavlovian reaction within me and I begin to salivate at the merest thought of the good stuff.

Since day one we had been intrigued by a technique we had seen whereby an entire ice cream, complete with the top half inch of the cone, was dipped into warm, molten chocolate. On contact with the cold ice cream, the chocolate quickly hardened creating a crisp choco layer around the soft vanilla ice cream underneath. If it tasted half as good as it looked, it was bound to be achingly delicious. Coupled with this, the shop we chose made the enormous waffle cones fresh each day: a Heath Robinson style contraption in the window dribbled the mixture onto a hot plate which was then closed shut to cook the waffle. When it was ready and cool enough to handle whilst still being pliable, it was curled into a cone shape ready to be filled with soft vanilla ice cream.


When faced with such delicacies, it would be rude to merely dabble. Rather, the only course of action is to dive in headfirst and think about it later. It was this philosophy that saw me ordering two of the largest ice creams I have ever seen. Each one could easily have satisfied two people. They were dipped into the chocolate which, as expected, formed a dark brown shell around the light, white ice cream within.

We sat outside the shop, perched on the windowsill in front of the waffle maker and tucked into the behemoth frozen treats in our childlike hands. They were as tasty as they looked; soft ice cream with the unmistakeable taste of manufactured vanilla, a crisp cone with a faintly sweet note and a gentle bitterness from the dark chocolate. It was one of the great ice creams, a truly legendary dessert.


My steadfast determination to finish it saw me through to the end leaving me reeling like a child at Easter who has eaten too much chocolate before breakfast. I licked the final smudges of chocolate from my lips, tossed my napkin into the bin and rested a hand on my sore belly while my girlfriend, clutching the final quarter of a cone still filled with ice cream, admitted defeat. Even after all that I considered whether it would be foolhardy to do the gentlemanly thing and finish it for her. An audible groan from my stomach gave me my answer. We binned the remains before I could change my mind and ambled into the quickly cooling evening happy and sated.

Ésto es lo que nos separa, una pared de nubes que se levanta entre tú y yo; tan fácil de atravesar y tan difícil a la vez, no ves lo que hay al otro lado y eso aterra... ¿pero acaso no somos criaturas celestiales que no temen a las alturas? ¿Acaso no siempre hablas de la grandilocuencia y levedad de nuestros cuerpos, de lo enormes que podemos llegar a ser?

Una pared de nubes que es como una niebla incómoda, fascinante y delicada, aterradoramente brutal y onírica; la puerta oficial hacia Avalon, que nos llama en la distancia del sueño... ¿Acaso no recuerdas que estuvimos juntos allí, sin sorpresas, sólo iluminados por las estrellas?

Algo tan efímero como una pared de nubes puede parecer un abismo... pero siempre me gustaron los retos y caminos difíciles, siempre me gusto cavar con mis manos sobre la piedra desnuda abrasada por el sol.

Bobo

June 25

My boss, Pam Parseghian, calls stupid people “bobo,” and that’s not the only reason I think it’s a silly word. It also means “bourgeois bohemian,” which to me translates as an overeducated self-important idiot who likes to pretend to slum but wouldn’t know real grime if he fell in it. And I should know, since as a middle class guy who writes, I am a bourgeois bohemian. There’s no getting around it.
And of course the West Village is the land of the over-privileged artist. The cradle of the gay rights movement, former crucible of many artists of all stripes, and now a neighborhood of the pampered rich.
Morningwood bassist Peter Yanowitz lives there, and he told me his neighbors hate him because he plays loud music. But why do people choose to live in the Village if they don’t want to bask in the glory of artists? Don’t you want your neighbors to be musicians? Isn’t that the whole point?
It’s like all those haters on the community board in the East Village who don’t want to give anyone a liquor license. Shouldn’t they just move to Great Neck?
And Bobo is also a restaurant in the West Village— the exclusive kind without a sign, so you just have to know where it is (181 W. 10th St., just West of Seventh Avenue, on the north side of the street, down the stairs). And publicist Katherine Bryant, my friend from back when she worked at Restaurant Business, wanted to have dinner with me there. So I went there with her last night.
I’m a food writer, so I don’t know about space, but it’s a cool space, or rather three, or really four, cool spaces — dark, stylish bar, cute ramshackle-apartment-like dining room, charming garden, and, um, stools by the walk-in.
I’ve never seen that design feature before: a glass-enclosed walk-in refrigerator jutting out into public space, with a bar and stools so people can eat while looking at it.
It’s certainly motivation to keep the fridge clean.
Actually, there might be a fifth dining area somewhere, hidden, where they put their ugly diners, because I didn’t see any of them last night.
I didn’t get a chance to meet the chef, Jared Stafford-Hill, who’s been there since January, because it was dinnertime and he was cooking, which you’ve gotta respect. But the restaurant’s owner, BR Guest veteran Carlos Suarez, was sitting at the bar, manning the turntable.
What we ate:

diver scallop crudo, with beets and wild asparagus
asparagus and morel risotto
white salmon with spicy fennel, pistachio and blood orange
lamb saddle with roasted asparagus and smoked paprika
a side of buttered garden peas
a sort of rhubarb crumble for dessert, along with citrus segments and lemon curd ice cream

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Ensalada de pasta con salsa rosa

Summer's here, and what's better than a:

- ENSALADA de PASTA con SALSA ROSA (PASTA SALAD with Cocktail Sauce):

Image Hosted by ImageShack.us

Thanks JACKIE!

Food Documentary About Supermarkets

http://www.documentarywire.com/dispatches-supermarke-secrets-part-1/
http://www.documentarywire.com/dispatches-supermaket-secrets-part-2/

にらと海老チチミ・Nira Ebi chichimi


25 juni 2008, rabu pagi,

Abis sibuk bkin spageti, ya uda diterusin bkin nih makanan ala korea....gampang praktis banget deh...enak... bahannya telor satu...tepung 200gr, air, aduk jadi satu shingga bentuk adonan ...masukkan nira n ebi kering..aduk rata.....panaskan feripan, taroh minyak, masukkan adonan, masak hingga matang.. jadi deh....siap dihidangkan... dicocol pake mayonese ok, dicocol sambel juga ok, dibubuhin kecap okonomiyaki juga ok...terserah deh.....

spagetti


25 juni 2008, rabu pagi

Mei hari ini pulang agak cepat, jadi makan siang di rmh...die minta bkinin spagetti...ya uda deh, untung kmren wkt ke supermket sempet beli tuh spagetti nya....
n ngiler juga liat blogznya Liza....ngiler ma spagettinya...hehhee..da lama juga ga bkin...jd hari ini terlaksana deh bkinnya...

Campurannya tomat, daging giling,bwg bombai, n brokoli....dicmpur deh jadi satu ma spagettinya...lumyan enak lah....
Mei malamnya juga minta makan spagetti lagi...walah, hari ini spagetti`s day deh jadinya...

perkedel kentang


23 juni 2008, senin pagi

Hari sabtu kemarin ke supermket beli kentang byk banget...ga tau mo buat apaan...lagi sale murah jadi beli deh...tiba2 keingetan si mungil kentang perkedel... Ubek ubek di inet cari resepnya..hehhe, kpingin mkan...mklumlah disini, ga ada yg jual makanan indo, jadi msti bkin sndiri...sediih deh..tapi harus dicoba ....namanya juga belajar.... Ya uda deh, rebus tuh kentang pake panci press...coz lg ga ada persediaan beefnya...ya uda, dicoba pake tuna...[enak juga lho], campur telor....bikin bulet2...sorenya tinggal ngegoreng.... pas gorengnya, kok lembek banget ya perkedelnya....apa mesti dimasukin tepung sdikit ya??? tapi enak juga....husband juga doyan, kalo die mah dicocol pake mayonese....hehe, rasa apa ya jadinya....hehehe....kali ini bkin banyakan, husband minta dibikinin buat bentonya juga.... bkin juga yg kecil, buat bento Mei besok pagi....lumyan....Mei juga suka....

¿Hay un Dios?


Caminando por lo parajes perdidos del cielo, soñando con llegar a casa para caer en tus brazos y fundirme en un manto de sueños que me arropará hasta la infinidad del tiempo.

¿Serás tú quien esté allí aguardando mi llegada, velando por los sueños compartidos desde el anonimato espacio-temporal? Para ese entonces espero haber olvidado todos nuestros sueños rotos, todo lo que nos perturbaba cuando cruzábamos las miradas durante el cegador amanecer.

Espérame sentado junto a la lumbre, escribiendo en renglones torcidos todo lo que piensas sobre éste, nuestro abismo personalizado; un abismo infinito que nos engulle sin piedad.

A través de los montes carbonizados, protegida por la noche, atravesaré las estrellas y llegaré hasta tu corazón; frío, de piedra, inerte palpitante que me guarda un pedacito bajo llave, con anhelo, mentiras y subterfugios piadosos para los dos.

SPIFF

This is SPIFF, the magazine for the Call Center crowd. It's very informative because there are hi-tech stuff, kikay finds and food. I'm happy about this magazine because not everyone knows that a lot of my customers came from different call centers in the metro. And according to my site meter I also have a lot of visitors from call centers.

They gave me 5-page feature which showcases my six set meals. Cathy Tagle-Garcia wrote this interesting article about me. I provided her food photos from my library.


There's also the map of my location. Thanks to SPIFF team and of course to Cathy!