Borough Market

Going to borough market has always been a special occassion for me. With all the food, vegetables, cheese, fish and meat fresh and in season, browsing through every stall and being able to touch and feel the food and not just a packaged something. The plus size is that everything is cheaper than if you bought it at your local grocery store.

We found this stall that sold the most amazing brownies. Melt in your mouth, full of chocolatey goodness, with each bite I could feel the calories pouring in (those are the best kind). Yum!


Winnie got some cheese for the dinner party we were having that night. I've never seen so much cheese in one place, The goat's cheese we had that night was paired beautifully with the roast orange, red, and yellow peppers together with the salad.


Just how fresh were the stuff being sold there? I saw some rabbits and deer... you can't get any fresher than that. I bought a rabbit (skinned of course) for Mike's dinner the next night.

Yum yum yum.

A perfect ending to a wonderful day

I left the house yesterday at 5 am and took a cab to Paddington station. Winter is still here with a vengeance, outside it was cold, dark and wet but that didn't dampen my mood for one bit. I was picking up my best friend. We came here together but she left to work in the pastry section of a big hotel chain in Hong Kong. I was standing at the platform waiting for the heathrow express to come in. I was pacing up and down the platform in excitement; and then there was screaming, and tears. We stayed at her place, and talked nonstop from paddington until midnight. I am so so happy she is back, my friend from childhood; the woman that I consider as one of my closest relatives. London has become brighter; even the weather didn't get me down today. It is a great day.

Funny enough, this city has loads of surprises in store. After spending the night at Winnie's place, my husband went home early morning to get ready for work as I chatted away with my bestfriend. When I called him up to ask him to take some things to oxfam, he got really snippy. I thought it was because he missed watching *one of the best football games that I ever watched in my entire life* as my cab driver put it. I can understand my husband's frustration with having missed watching Chelsea vs. Barcelona as I wanted to see it too. I don't like arguments being a protector guardian (i'm full of these today), so this dampened my mood a bit. My mood worsened when my cabbie told me how a chelsea player got kicked off, kind of a deja vu for them since they got Liverpool's goalkeeper sent off a week ago (booooo).

I came home tonight to find a bicycle chained to our gate. Some idiot (there is no other way to describe this person) thought our gate would be the best place to secure it with a thick chain and heavy duty padlock. I wouldn't really mind in normal circumstances, except this moron chained it where the gate normally opens, and now it's stuck halfway. I (and the people living upstairs in my building, which includes a very pregnant woman on the top floor) have to squeeze through the gap, step on the bike (it's impossible to step over it, unless you're all legs and no body) to get to our front door. Not cool at all. At first I thought it was a prank, the back wheel was missing, and the front wheel was all bent; this is London afterall. My nice-guy-living-upstairs neighbor said it was probably one of the people living next door who chained it there(obviously no one in our building would be dim enough to inconvenience us and themselves by chaining their mode of transportation to the part of the gate where we usually pass to get to our front door). They obviously did not notice the keypad, or were so brainless that they think it normal to chain someone else's front gate. Nice-guy-living-upstairs, who is usually docile, also told me that if *that darned thing* is still there by tomorrow morning, *I'm going to rip it apart.* Ahhh, I get the feeling that the front wheel was probably in good condition when *that darned thing* was first chained there, and then proceeded to get more bent as my upstairs neighbors let their frustration out on the unsuspecting wheel, only because they couldn't wring the neck of the person who actually put it there. I called my husband at work (very rare occasion as chefs hate being interrupted at work, they get grumpier than usual), I found out that he had to climb over the gate to get out of the house; the bike was in perfect condition when he last saw it. It was spanking brand new, had both wheels and was chained perfectly to the gate (which wouldn't open at all). This is a fire hazard!!! Uh-huh, now I get why he was so grumpy. I should probably tell my neighbors that if the bike is still there when my husband gets home, then nothing's going to be left of the bike when the owner picks it up tomorrow morning. I don't like vandals, and this counts as trashing someone else's property, but in this case I'm all for it.

It could have been a crappy ending to a really good day, but as I got in the house, this man was waiting for me. This is why I got married. Enough said.




This time I called my bestfriend, told her all about the bike and had a laugh. All in realtime. Life is getting better by the minute.

Another one for insomnia

I'm on a roll with flowers lately. Hmm...scratch that. I've been into flowers since I can remember, and my insomnia has somehow given me a renewed passion for everything floral. I hope this keeps up, my sudden burst of energy for painting gives me something to do while I have loads of time on my hands. Hopefully, by the time I get a job, I'll have enough paintings to open up my own gallery (dream on kid).

Insomnia

Insomnia is defined as a chronic inability to fall asleep or remain asleep for an adequate length of time. I don't have a problem remaining asleep for long periods, for people who've been with me during sleepovers, they know that I can sleep for an absurdly long time. The problem with me is falling asleep. During my waking moments, my brain goes into overdrive so much that I have trouble shutting down. I have so many ideas whizzing around my brain that I have an inability to turn them off when I need to. Nowadays, I sleep every other day, which is scary. I went to my GP a couple of days ago to ask for help...I didn't get any. Basically, she told me to find other ways of falling asleep, short of bonking my head so that I conk out, I don't know what else to do. I asked the pharmacy for help, and they gave me these over the counter pills that do an amazing job. Hopefully, I'll be able to get into a normal sleeping pattern after I finish the meds so that I won't need to be a zombie every other day.

The plus side to this is I have so much more waking hours to paint. I find that this helps me relax, my brain only thinks about mixing my paints to get the desired colors that I want. Amazingly, I am able to produce paintings without much effort. At the very least, there's one good thing about not being able to fall asleep.

The Prodigal Daughter

I'm going back to the Philippines next month. I've been having nightmares about it, probably cause I haven't been there for 3 years. Has it been that long? A lot of things have changed since I last saw Manila. I've finished school, became a chef, left work, been jobless, got married (tiny tiny detail), moved into a tiny tiny flat, and lived on no money at all. Very very different from my life back home. Home. For years I've wanted to leave home...for as long as I can remember I've hated living in Manila. I just couldn't wait to leave. Now that I'm nearing my homecoming...I'm overwhelmed by this feeling of how much I've missed home. Home home home...I can't stop saying it. I can't wait to see it, I can't wait to feel it. My self imposed exile has been good...it has been a very rude awakening. Living in the Philippines, I didn't feel any connection to it at all, or so I thought. The thing is...the more you deny yourself of something, the more you end up wanting it. Here, in the land of football, baked beans, and big brother I have made peace with myself. No matter how much I tell myself that I am happy to be living here, I know I am overjoyed at the prospect of going back there. Even if it is just for a little while. If I need to go back to recharge my spirit, then it must truly be HOME.

What has prompted all this mushy feelings for my beloved Manila? I recently stumbled across a blog by a very funny man calling himself batjay. His humor, the off color jokes, things he writes about...they are 100% Filipino. His website is lightyears better than all of the websites sponsored and run from Manila, and this is only from one mean Filipino machine. I truly, truly enjoy his website, short of stopping myself from subscribing to his posts (I think I'm still very much trying to balance out being chinese and growing up filipino...hey I've had years of subliminal training so don't hate me). And the eureka moment...I enjoy Mr. Batjay's writings simply because it reminds me so much of...you guessed it...home.

My weekly epiphany

The good and bad thing about not having a job is loaaaads of time. I've been without a job for almost a year and it has screwed up my brain pretty bad. You start out feeling sorry for yourself, there is nowhere to go when you wake up in the morning, and you try to fill your days with mundane things that seem to be the most important to you (but not everyone else because they have jobs). See, the thing about not working for a long time is that people who have the power to hire you now think *well why haven't you been working for so long anyway?*, so everything becomes a catch 22. I need a job, you won't hire me because I haven't had a job for so long. *Sigh*

Oh yeah, I said good and bad. So the good part is I've been having epiphanies about myself for so long. My weekly epiphanies I call them. I know more about myself now than I ever have for years. Why do I let things that annoy me slide until I reach saturation point and get pissed off as hell? My mom does that, and I've been watching her do it for years. I think people call it patience. My tolerance level is so high that I can let things slide for years, until I get so pissed off that I threaten to call the cops on you (ok I did that just once...)

I'm not comparing myself to them, they are in a league of their own, but the great masters of the last millenium had loads of time to think and ponder. Gravity, the periodic table, astronomy lalalalah. I'm just grateful that I use the time that I have to analyze myself, otherwise I'd have gone out of my mind a long time ago. Hmm...then again I know loads of people who'd say that I am out of my mind. Oh well...

What else did I find out about myself? I was really good at my job back home, because I enjoyed mentoring the people who worked for me. I sucked at my job because I did everything myself; I didn't trust anyone else to do the job (I know...that's baaaad) I hated my job because of the damn politics...therefore ergo I will never ever be a good politician and will never aspire to be so. Sadly, politics make the world go 'round. The people I dislike most are the ones with no heart (I think that says it all). I married my husband because he has loads of heart...and he gives good hugs.

I love cooking, but I will never be a Gordon Ramsey or Thomas Keller, because the kitchen is populated with neurotic people like me, except they're high on drugs (Jamie Oliver is right when he says cocaine is rife in the kitchen...) My ex kitchen colleagues will hate me when they read this, because it is a secret that is kept within the confinement of the kitchen. Foodies and michelin star fans would be surprised at the amount of drugs that pass through the people making their foie gras. Imagine a neurotic artiste' obsessed with creating the perfect dish, throwing away a perfectly good meal because the rocket leaves are too big, or too small, too green or something like that, all the while screaming at the poor minion who was unfortunate enough to hand the salad leaves to the nuclear head chef. Now imagine the same thing except that the head chef is high on drugs. Scary. I have an admiration for the people who excel in the field of cooking, even more admiration if they've managed to stay clean their whole career. Now I know I can work in a kitchen, and be good at it, but I'm not sure if I will last that long. In my kitchen at home, I can create wonderful dishes that my husband raves about. I am content with that (for now).

I do know that I am obsessed with art. I love my pastels, acrylic, watercolour and everything that I can get my hands on to draw, and paint, and create. I am angry at myself for not realizing this sooner (like when I was choosing my degree back in uni). I now have two degrees, and am thinking of getting another one. My mom will go beserk when she finds out about this, as I cannot tell her that I am on a lifelong quest to find what I really want to do because she has had only 2 jobs all her life, and was and still is hugely successful at it (I know why I am like this and it has something to do with my dear old dad).

So what to do now? Ah...that I haven't thought of yet.

Happy New Year Achi Bunny

Got a nice surprise in the mail today. Aww...they grow up so fast.

Mickey Mouse Tongs!

I met up with Ray last Saturday for lunch. We were supposed to meet up the week before that but I've been ill. I don't know if it's something physical or if it's just this damn bad weather...I hate winter. Enough about that.

I got flowers! Wins and Ray got me these really gorgeous flowers for my birthday. They were absolutely divine *take note I don't talk like this in person...not always anyway* We had dimsum. I haven't gone out for dimsum for a long time so it was comfort food...great comfort food from Royal China in Baker Street. Then we went out for coffee, and it was at that point that Ray kindly demonstrated "the run". Thanks for that, it was pure comedy.


I got my christmas present from Wins. Mickey Mouse tongs!!! How cool is that!?!

Lost, Scared and Confused

I have so many ideas in my head, so much stuff that I want to do, but not enough to know what to do with them. For years I have had everything done for me, I've never done my own taxes, never did housework, never worried about anything. Now everything is totally upside down. Once I decided to move away from home, I knew it was the start of something. I just never thought it would be this big. I now am having to fend for myself. I don't have anyone to do anything for me, and it is scary. I wouldn't trade it for my old life, now that I know I have so much to learn, I am finding it hard, but I am trying to make it. Trying is such a loser word I know. Somehow, even if I'm worrying about money every single day of my life, I know things will turn out ok. I just wish it could come sooner.

Duh?!

I was looking for recipes online. I don't know...for some inspiration (naks artiste!) Now I know cooking doesn't come naturally to most people, heck I only started cooking in college. And my first attempts were inedible to say the least, but most people DO KNOW how to make (I don't even know what term to use here but anyway...) INSTANT noodles. You know what I mean, those that come in the pack, like Lucky Me instant noodles, or taiwanese instant noodles (the best btw). So why do I find this in a recipe search?????

Cook ramen noodles in a large pot of boiling salted water 3-4 minutes or until al dente. Drain thoroughly. Toss with flavor packet.

Hello??? Is this a valid R.E.C.I.P.E. ?!?!?!?!? *pant pant pant* These are instructions!!!

So anyway, I'm off to make noodle soup. Uh...how do I boil water again?
___________________________________________________________________

So scrounging stuff from the fridge (ooooooooo everything's frozen!) I managed to gather ingredients that can make for an edible meal. Tadaaaaa! Yum yum if I do say so myself.

2 Chicken Cubes (I don't have a pot large enough to make my own stock...excuses excuses...)
2 Packs Noodles (no not the ones that come with flavored packets)
Porkloin
Greenbeans
1 Egg
Homemade chili (courtesy of my mother in law who makes the best chili)

Wedding Picture

Browsing through my blogs I have realized that I haven't even posted one single picture of my wedding day. That was a fantastic day for me. By my standards (consumer standards) my wedding was fairly simple, straight to the point. I think it suited me, my hippie side. Nothing too frilly, not much preparation. I must say I couldn't stop myself from smiling the whole day. Everything was just perfect. Mike...my husband. Awww.

It's almost Christmas

Well, this is going to be my 2nd Christmas away from home. Away from my mom. I feel sad, but grownup a little bit too. It's just me and Michael this year. Hopefully next year I can spend it with my mom. I am looking forward to my birthday though. Mike and I have planned a stay-in. Well, we usually stay-in a lot anyway but this time he's going to cook for me, and then we're going to turn the heating up and wrap ourselves in our wonderful new lambswool throw, and watch dvd's. Oh and I'm making him hot chocolate.

I can't wait til Christmas.

What's it like being married?

I have been married for a month. *How does it feel being married?* *What's it like being married?* And all sorts of questions essentially asking if I have morphed into this unrecognizable alien after getting married. Honestly, it's all the same. I can't say if it's good with everything being the same. I am certainly happy though. And I'm certainly not complaining that everything is still the same. I'd be rather shocked if everything changed overnight after getting hitched. My husband *oooooo gives me tingles saying that* is a warm and caring man. So with everything being the way it is before we said our i-do's...I'm not complaining.

I've got my visa. Yeeeeeeeey! I can finally work. I hope I get a job soon.

One more day to go

One day to go...tomorrow Cindy is taking me to have my nails done. She wants me to get pampered. She's sweet she is. I'm happy she's here with me.

One more day to go...

Supersize Me

 


I am paraniod of getting fat...again. I'm constantly worried that I'll pile on the pounds and become extra large again. I have lived with being fat for years. Eversince I can remember. My weight has yo-yoed for the most part of my life. I have received my share of the fat stigma. I have been called names, pinched, laughed at, and pitied.

After I lost the weight, I felt so much better. Physically, mentally, emotionally and every sort of *ally's* I can think of. Inside however, I still felt fat. Living with myself for years, then suddenly shedding half of me... It takes a while getting used to it.

I am still living with being fat. The struggle to be thin in my mind is a constant battle for me. Sad but true. 

Last Days of Singledom

Only a few days left until I relinquish my female freedom. I am getting married. I surprise myself for writing this, as it has been a well kept secret, except for a few of my good friends. Not all of them know when or why I am doing this. Not all of them would approve.

Should I be doing something to celebrate my single life? Or the end of it? Should I be sad...and scared that I am tying the knot? Honestly, I am not. I'm not scared, more apprehensive, about not knowing what will happen on that day. I always said I would never get married. I guess this is the only way that I would go down the aisle. Sudden, no long term planning, none of the jlo wedding planner sappiness every girl dreams about (or so everyone tells me).

Everything is simple. I went out with Cindy to buy my wedding dress yesterday. It was the first one I tried on. It just fit perfectly. I was surprised at how easy it was...no mess...no queuing at the dressing room. If only life were this simple. Then again, my world is different. Who else could say if only life were as simple as picking out a wedding dress? I've been to my friend's fitting for her wedding gown (oh it was a gown alright...took 3 of us to carry her train while she was going to the loo). Shoes weren't a problem. Everything I wanted to try on, they had it in stock. Now a size 3 does not come in stock in London cobbler's that often, so it was a good day for shoe shopping as well.

Tomorrow, Mike and I will be shopping for an engagement ring. Yes, only in my wacky upside down world...everything comes first, and the engagement ring comes last. Heck, you know what? I love it.

I am a protector guardian

I was chatting with my friend Roel today. One smart bloke that guy. Even when he was punching walls *it's my hobby, it relaxes me* (don't ask) back when we were both in Trend Micro, I knew he was no ordinary guy. Fast forward years later, he's free lancing, I'm jobless and we're still having our chat sessions about life. So he points me to this website http://www.humanmetrics.com/cgi-win/JTypes2.asp Take the test he tells me.

I am an iSfJ, a protector guardian. The primary desire of the Protector Guardian is to be of service to others, but here “service” means not so much furnishing others with the necessities of life (the Provider’s concern), as guarding others against life’s pitfalls and perils, that is, seeing to their safety and security. There is a large proportion of Protectors in the population, perhaps as much as ten percent. And a good thing, because they are steadfast in their protecting, and seem fulfilled in the degree they can insure the safekeeping of those in their family, their circle of friends, or their place of business.

Protectors find great satisfaction in assisting the downtrodden and can deal with disability and neediness in others better than any other type. They go about their task of caretaking modestly, unassumingly, and because of this their efforts are not sometimes fully appreciated. They are not as outgoing and talkative as the Providers, except with close friends and relatives. With these they can chat tirelessly about the ups and downs in their lives, moving (like all the Guardians) from topic to topic as they talk over their everyday concerns. However, their shyness with strangers is often misjudged as stiffness, even coldness, when in truth these Protectors are warm-hearted and sympathetic, giving happily of themselves to those in need.

Their quietness ought really to be seen as an expression, not of coldness, but of their sincerity and seriousness of purpose. Like all the Guardians, Protectorss have a highly developed puritan work ethic, which tells them that work is good, and that play must be earned-if indulged in at all. The least hedonic of all types, Protectors are willing to work long, long hours doing all the thankless jobs the other types seem content to ignore. Thoroughness and frugality are also virtues for Protectors. When they undertake a task, they will complete it if at all humanly possible; and they know the value of material resources and abhor the squandering or misuse of these resources. Protectors are quite content to work alone; indeed, they may experience some discomfort when placed in positions of authority, and may try to do everything themselves rather than insist that others do their jobs.

With their extraordinary commitment to security, and with their unusual talent for executing routines, Protectors do well in many careers that have to do with conservation: curators, private secretaries, librarians, middle-managers, police officers, and especially general medical practitioners. To be sure, the hospital is a natural haven for them; it is home to the family doctor, preserver of life and limb, and to the registered nurse, or licensed practical nurse, truly the angels of mercy. The insurance industry is also a good fit for Protectors. To save, to put something aside against an unpredictable future, to prepare for emergencies—these are important actions to Protectors, who as insurance agents want to see their clients in good hands, sheltered and protected.

Famous iSfJ's are
Louisa May Alcott
Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Queen Elizabeth II of England
Robert E. Lee
Queen Mary I ("Bloody Mary") of England
Johnny Carson, comedian
Jerry Seinfeld
Kristi Yamaguchi, US Olympic figure skater
Mother Theresa

Who knew eh? Oh and Roel? He's the Mastermind.

Yes but No but Yes

Why can't people (including me) just be happy? Why is there always a **but**?
You can do better...you can be happier...

I have found an amazing person, or as he points out...he found me. He is warm... gentle... generous... kind... giving... loving... patient... but. He is not like me. He never finished school...he works in a kitchen...he is not educated by traditional means...and...he's not rich.

*Are you sure about this?* *You can do so much better than him you know* *You are stepping down from your uppercrust existence* *I just don't want you to waste your life...* Words from people I love...people who care about me...people who are scared for me.

I am living a rich life. Not in the richness that money can give, so by modern standards I am poor...but. I am living a rich life. I have someone who cares for me. I have someone I care for...not because we'd give up our lives for each other, but because we want to live longer so we can be together longer.

I am happy...but. be happy for me too.

He assaulted me!

 
I was doing my weekend grocery shopping today, and there was a commotion at my local grocer. Apparently, a male pensioner threw a shopping basket over the head of this girl. So that was where I found them, by the potato section (where else!?), with the girl screaming bloody murder. *You assaulted me! This is assault! LOOK at me NOW!!! and apologize to me! You hit me over the head with that BASKET!* He very well may have hit her on the head with the basket, intentionally or not, I don't know. Anyway, the great big burly attendant finally pulled the screaming girl off the frail elderly man, and she got thrown out of the store. *HE assaulted ME!!! You should be throwing HIM out!* That should have been the end of that, but of course in this crazy wacky world of grocery shopping on a saturday afternoon... She ran back inside, grabbed a shopping cart, and rammed it in the man while he was backed up in a corner. So she kept on doing this, all the while screaming *I hope you die! I hope you die!* and then she walked out. Oh yeah, this woman...who was assaulted...was twice the size of me. And the man? he was half my size. What was so disturbing about the whole scene was that no one even bothered to help. Yeah...everyone just stood there and gawked. The man was alright by the way, he was surprised when I asked him if he was alright. He thanked me for *bothering to stop and ask an old pensioner to see if I'm alright.* And then he said...*I hope she doesn't go and abuse someone else.* And so my day of grocery shopping ends. 

The River Cafe

I recently had dinner at The River Cafe with my mom, Mike and Uncle Bia. It was one of the best meals I've ever had in my life. For starters we had the calamari ai ferri, and spaghetti ai vongole. The squid was perfectly grilled; it tasted sweet and just the right amount of seasoning. The chilli brought out the taste of the squid, and the hot chilli complimented it just right. The rocket leaves were fresh, peppery with just the right sharpness, drizzled with just a little olive oil. Yum yum. The spaghetti was cooked just right (al dente for those of you foodies), not too chewy but not too soggy either. The clams and zucchini were just right, seasoned perfectly, and the wine sauce was amazing. Heaven I tell you. For mains, I had salmone selvatica al sale. I've never had baked salmon so good before. I am now converted back to salmon. The sides were equally as amazing. I never thought I would rave so much about roast peppers (i hate yellow peppers btw) and cannellini beans, but everything about this dish just blended together perfectly. My mom had branzina ai ferri. PERFECT. Grilled sea bass, seasoned perfectly, flaky and juicy (which I don't think is a superlative that you usually use with fish dishes...) A little drizzle of olive oil and fresh lemon juice. So simple yet so great. The zucchini fritters cooked just right with a light batter, crispy and just provided the right amount of coating to the veg. Michael had the san pietro al forno. A large serving of john dory grilled, again, to perfection. Flaky, seasoned just right, and together with the potatoes and porcini mushroom every bite was visibly enjoyed by my better half. My uncle had the Coscia d' Agnello and although he was on a diet, I must say he devoured his meal heartily. The lamb was pink and very juicy. The veg was cooked just right, still with a bite but not too crunchy to be considered underdone. I especially liked the beetroot. The amazing thing about the whole thing is that I loved all the things that I wouldn't normally eat. I hate beetroot, and yellow peppers, and I don't eat beans nor zucchini. This whole meal was just full of superlatives.

Dessert was alright, considering that we are not dessert people, we just had to try it. The River Cafe' Lime Tart definitely is one to try, especially for those of you who like key lime pie. This was just so tart, yet balanced with the right amount of sweetness, and you could taste how fresh the limes were. The pannacotta with grappa & raspberries (I fail horribly at making pannacotta in class...I just could never get the right amount of gelatine to save my life) was not too soft, not too hard, and it was grappa all the way. The blackberry sorbet was the best damn sorbet I've ever had. And the coffee? It was the best.

I went to this restaurant expecting nothing, and I got the best meal of my life.