Pahiyas images from http://my_sarisari_store.typepad.com/

 Here’s food art, before there is such a thing. This event in the Philippines is inspired by a Catholic (note Catholic) saint during the Spanish regime. The website noted that it is by way of Mexico, no wonder there is a similarity in the culture.

Click on the image to get to the photographer’s website.  The pictures are awesome, I am inspired.

Enjoy. Note: I did send the photographer an email asking for permission to link to his pix, but it bounced.

A few months back, we figured in a car accident, I have not even completed my insurance claim. The offending car was in a hurry he thought, if he sped up he will make is turn without hitting us. All that to apparently get to a ballgame. We were bruised my friend’s car was totaled, guess it is now with the other clunkers in car heaven.

We were going to a church meeting and I was carrying a cup of diet coke and a box of donuts, the air bag went off and we were bruised, T who was driving got the cool end of it with a sling and something for her finger. L and her friend had to go for chiropractic sessions. My eyeglasses were broken and grazed my skin, bruised from the air bag impact, and bones aiming to dislodge. I didn’t see my life flash before me, so we were okay. Certain that Lordy is always there protecting us.

Anyway, I figured Lordy wanted us to stop the driver from causing a bigger mess on the road. You know what he said, the driver I mean? He said that it’s normal, that’s what insurances are for. How cold is that? I said, he probably didn’t go to church, and a Sunday at that! Isn’t that disturbing?
The bummer was having to wait for too long to get T checked, I didn’t opt for the ER check, went to my doctor instead for a clean bill of health. It was a drag indeed, but we were able to hang out with another friend who is grieving over the loss of her Mom. L’s friend went ahead with her afternoon tap dance performance.

What’s the point in all these? A reminder that we should be grateful for our lives, that we should be content with what we have for it can disappear in a wink. Most of all a testimony to His greatness that he is always there to protect.

Amen?

Life is so complex that past and present collide making the future blurry, filled with uncertainty. He was bullied as a kid, even as a grown up, for reasons unknown, maybe he is too gentle for his own good. He does not retaliate, he would have been happy hiding behind me, willing for me to fight his battles. He would have been happy with that, content not following a dream, his dreams would be anchored on mine. I left and it shattered everything, it took him a while to recover, to find his bearings, and realized that he has a life to live. I wondered was he too sheltered, we all were, but behind those closeted existence are darkness of infidelity causing pain a deep wrenching of the heart building distrust and agony. I questioned the reason for that, how can rules be laid down and be disregarded, irreverently neglected to follow a darker life. There is always a cause and effect, I used to say, “read, you will find your answers only through discovery.” Now, I say, “have you talked to Lordy about it?”

On the one hand, he didn’t get as much discipline as the others, he was the baby, the last born. Life was a little better, as a child he would give in tantrums, to fit of anger. I sensed a tendency to hardhandedness. Unlike his gentle brother, he is more head on, less patient. His uncaring ways led to misguided existence — married or were they? because of a child, a relationship borne out of necessity, presumably to correct a wrong. Such an overlap didn’t change anything but rather put them in a quicksand of misery. Frustrated attempts to change put them in deeper pain, something that I don’t have a solution for, but to tell Lordy about it. I reckon maybe you need to pray more, it was never meant to be your battle alone. Lordy is with you just listen to what He is saying.

Whoa, life is indeed so complex. Sometimes I’m not sure why they tell me all this, validation? approval? or they want me to tell Lordy for them, like am the right agent or not . She left her husbad and children to go to a foreign land for a better future for her children. So that they won’t have the kind of life that she had. With nothing but her bravura, she embarked and halfway succeeded. But she fell in love with someone that she shouldn’t and had to marry another, keeping her lover on the side. She thinks she is handling it all pretty cool, what is happiness anyway, she countered. I dared say to her that at this point it is exciting but once the novelty is gone, she should be ready to deal with the guilt, the repercussions of emotional entanglement, the questioning look of her innocent children.

I have been so busy with work these past weeks or has it been months, project after project, I am never really able to dwell on things, questions unanswered burning in my head.  What I managed to do was separate my questions from affecting my faith that would have caused it to erode into an unbelievable pit of darkness.

Being a recipient of unexpected meanness, unexpected in the sense that the person dispensing it should be dispensing something more soulful than that.  Words uttered that is embarassing to be repeated even to vent about. I accepted and with head vowed tried to recall that humility is a value that we learned and try to practice as a good human being, as children of God.  But I will be pretentious if I say that I wasn’t affected, that I wasn’t hurt, so I stayed away glad that I am so preoccupied to be eaten by anger causing me to hate.

It is a gift of grace that I have embraced. A friend was not so lucky, for she was a witness to a failed test. A test of ruined relationships, battered emotions, her faith in God is intact but it will take her a long time to go back and find a church, a community where she can be in fellowship with, a fellowship with open heart. She understood that it is a fact of being human, falling and failing, that it is not for her to judge, it is between the person and God. The difficulty arises when we put someone in a pedestal and decide that being elevated to that level will make them saints and will do no wrong. It is a flawed thought, for why else do we go to such lenghts of proving that a person is saint after death. When they can err no more.

There is a new cafe at the ground floor of the building where I work, it is part of chain in San Francisco and other cities, providing lunch to workers and tourists. I can’t say I am thrilled with it, except that it is convenient for people working through lunch. Rather silly but Oakland is cool in the sense that it does not have a mall, save for the coffee shops, drugstores and grocers is free from chains, there are a lot of independent stores, restaurants and bookstores. Oakland, one of the biggest cities in the US is not safe from the assult of Corporate America. I wonder what this will do the Grand Avenue Grill (GAG) and the other restaurants in the neighborhood.

So the aroma of freshly baked bread replaced the stench of human existence. Yeah, that is part of Oakland, a coexistence of hard life, the pain of existence, the result of this trying econmic times and a luxurious wealthy life, a backdrop of the mansions up in the hills. A tableu of reality, a mixture of culture-of backgrounds, and everything else.

Okay, I said enough already. The food is good, cooked fresh all the time, and they deliver for just 2 bucks.

I also love eggplants, espcially with eggs. What to do then is make eggplant omelet. I didn’t want to take out the tabletop grill or the foreman, nor do I want to use the oven, the effect is just different. I like to grill the old way, hot almost touching the embers, so there you are there is CO2 in this process because it does not use charcoal. It may have emitted some in the frying process. What was I trying to make here? Eggplant omelette if it has no filling embotido if it is filled.

So I first grilled the eggplant to a bit of overdone such that the skin is almost charred. Once it is done, on running water I removed the skin, which is fairly easy since it is burnt therefore almost crumbly.  Pat dry and dip in a beaten egg, add salt and pepper, you can add curry or italian seasoning, if you so prefer.  In a frying pan, heat vegetable oil–olive oil tends to heat faster, an olive canola or olive butter can be used too. Once the oil is hot enough pour the egg-eggplant combination, push the egg into the eggplant so that it does not spread throughout the pan. Turn the eggplant for an equal doneness, remember the eggplant is already cooked. We want the egg cooked, not runny or crunchy.

I had some shrimps and mushrooms crying for attention, I gave in, shelled and deveined the shimp, sliced the mushroom.  On the same pan, I caramelized some onions, put a little garlic and added the mushroom, then the shrimps last. A little salt and dinner is ready.

Did that gross you out? I assure you those coils are clean after all it is hot. Anyway it is good eating.

Further to my Green post not too long ago.

I am a member of the Green Team at work-work is involve in climate change, greenhouse gas, sustainability and LEED buildings, so I have this awareness about sustainability. I also grew up in a traditional household, we reused and recycled more out of economics than the environment. So, when I attended a get together where my friend used disposable utencils, I asked for stemware, not being rude but trying to espouse that idea of reusing.

Wholefoods uses compostable utencils, which I commend them for trying, but if the consumer will dispose of this items in the regular trash bins then the purpose is defeated. Oakland has banned the use of styrofoam in restaurants another good effort.

Last week I bought a couple of turners/spatula made of bamboo for less than a dollar, I walked away feeling good about myself, that was a good buy.  But walking out of the store, I recalled that cutting down of bamboo trees were banned in the Philippines because such denudation will result in flooding, an imbalance in the ecosystem.  Therefore, somewhere in the Pacific bamboos are being cutdown irresponsibly to feed the growing demand of “green” products, and if we are paying so measly for those products then the cost of production must be so low that it could be to a sweatshop level.

During martial law in the Philippines, there is this program called, “the Green Revolution.” Buy locally, backyard farming, and other sustainable efforts. To a certain degree it was successful, if only dynamites were not used to catch fish in some areas or that pesticides were used more too often before the harsh effects were noted.

Responsible greening is the key.

Some weeks ago, I met a friend at the Sidebar on Grand Avenue, we didn’t have reservations, so we sat at the bar–who did we see, people from church, ha ha you can’t have an affair in this neighborhood, you just might bump into your confessor. The food was good, we had crostini topped with duck liver, deviled egges, frites, beans with trout, and something else that I can’t remember.  For a new place, the place is abuzz, price is good, the ambiance is good, service is surprisingly outstanding. I said surprisingly because it doesn’t seem to be a priority anymore.

This first outing -life, projects, faith filled the conversation. On a second outing last week, I was starving and had a bowl of mussels over shoestring potatoes in cream sauce, it’s different but I liked it and I had the crostini with duck liver, what can I say, I love foie gras, and there is a new drink that I discover called Zamboanga, which is an island in the Philippines. I have always been a red drinker aside from a rare ameretto, but this is the bomb, ha ha, not because of the name but it is a good cocktail drink, very light with a slow kick.

Single women, that we are conversation of course led to dating and all that.  So, as we were seated at the bar, my friend told me to scope the room and see if the one I would be attracted to was in the room, I said, no. Well, because my type is an average Joe, a boring looking caucasian man, sorry I have the Kingkong mentality ha ha. She talked about a blind date who was all that when they were talking on the phone, a Catholic, prays the rosary regularly, hmmm possible. Who turned out to be a middle-aged Berkely man, long hair, fit, seemed like, he just stopped what he was doing to meet her. Liked beer but didn’t check if the Trappist is open on Mondays, wanted to see a movie (on a first date?) can’t decide what he wanted to see, went instead for ice cream but he didn’t have cash on him. Whoops that’s too many whammies! Next, she said. 

But going back to the food, it is good, the noise level of the restaurant is a bit high but tolerable. 

      542 Grand Ave
      Oakland, CA 94610-3515
      (510) 452-9500
     Get directions

Now, I am going back to bed Good morning!

Yesterday morning, I attended a mass officiated by the Bishop of Oakland in the Cathedral, it was a mass for the youth of Oakland–not to say I am one. It turned out to be a celebration for St. John, one of the first priests, it is the year of the priests, after all, didn’t know that. The Bishop was wearing his hat, as an inspiration to the youths in their vocation, to answer God’s calling. He said vocation is not a career is not something that you have to be good at, often mistaken for as ways to be famous, make money, an oxymoron if you would look at it. The former being selfless, a response to a deeper call, giving of oneself without any expectation of a reward. Whereas the latter is so full of self, popularity, wealth, and success. Wow!

So after mass, I went next door to do a little bit of work until it is time to go to a celebration for a friend.  It was her birthday it is also a sort of celebration to her liberation from her aversion to anything techie, (oooh that’s too may tion there) she just got an Iphone and is enjoying it.  What is it that they say, there is an app for that.  All in all it was a good gathering, easy and relaxing. Ohhh, the margarita was strong and I discovered a summer pie, a no bake lemonade pie.  Yummm.. no pix this time, in the next gathering perhaps.. hint hint.. 

One of the gifts that she received was a book on zodiac signs (Catholic readers, don’t flinch it’s just a game ) where there is a category called luncheon meat, the Libran spam is corned beef. My friend’s husband’s spam is olive, he cringed saying it is something that he hated as a child, eliciting a question as to what would he prefer listening to Elvis or eating an olive spam, he said none of the above.

Anyway, as soon as I got home, I went to bed being tired from all that activity, I am getting old, one event is enough for me.. Well an early bed does not work for me, woke up from a NAP energized to update this blog.

Oh! some days you will read me weaving words around subjects that does not seem to matter or those that matter but would segue into something else, consider it as a practice in writing. An effort to rehearse the crafting of worthy prose, I have not given up on my desire to write when I grow up, he he.. Factoid or urban legend, did you know that these days part of one’s portfolio includes Facebook, Twitter, and a blog, so if you are applying for a job that involves writing, you should have a blog to show proof , the others are I guess proof that you know and use the technology available. They do search for you online, word of the wise, go easy on what you say as it may haunt you when you don’t expect it.