Cookbook Kitchen

I love birthdays.

I love the celebration that comes with it.

I love the happy laughter shared among friends.

And most especially the introduction of yummy eats.

So it was such a pleasure to be invited to my officemate and friend Maan’s birthday at Cookbook Kitchen.

I’ve never heard of it.  And it’s a long way from the office to just have lunch (Commonwealth to Shaw Blvd., Mandaluyong, whew! Faye and I had to munch on some butterscotch bars as we got held up in traffic. Yep, we were that hungry!)

But as we entered the quiet neighborhood and saw Cookbook Kitchen’s colorful facade, we both thought that it promised to be worth the travel and the wait.

We were not wrong.

Maan and friends took the liberty to order ahead for us. 

We had parmesan crusted fishfillet,  chicken pizzaoili, mustard chicken, an orange flavored fish and another cream based fish ( i don’t know what kind), and honey glazed spareribs.  

And as per Filipino custom, everything of course had to be shared….

 

To be tasted…

 

To be oggled…

 

And happily dug into! 🙂

 

For a quaint hole in the wall resto hidden in far Mandaluyong City, Cookbook Kitchen was truly a winner in my book!

Thanks Maan and Happy, Happy Birthday! 🙂

 

P.S. Just found out that the resto was started by a couple of bank executive foodies who have chosen to retire early to engage in their passion. Sigh!  Someday…someday…

Unsettling Calm

I’ve always prided myself for being calm. 

In high school, I remember Mrs. R, my english teacher, saying she could never read me.  Nothing profound to be read in the comment.  Back then, announcing a surprise quiz was enough to elicit a jolt on any student! But not me, I guess.  I was simply, in today’s language, “deadma”.  I figured it was one of those things I have no control of – teacher’s whims, there will be a quiz whether I like it or, and it was best to keep my wits together. 

And this is how it was and still is, I would remain cool even in the most challenging of times, scary times, and on occasions that I am not, I would  just give the air of it. 

An important pleading was due for filing the following Monday.  It was Friday and I have yet to write a word.  My thoughts were going crazy,  I have yet to hold on a solid convincing argument.  But I calmly told my superiors they’ll have it on their table early Monday morning.  And so they did.

Two (2) witnesses did not show up as scheduled, leaving me with only one (1) who I haven’t even talked to much less prepared.  Court asks if I was ready.  Told them I was.  Elicited answers from my witness for more or less an hour, for questions I developed along the way.    Even if deep inside, I wanted to wring the neck of my co-prosecutor for his botched subpoena. 

I am Ms. Cool, calm under pressure.

I am Superwoman, able to juggle the demands of work and motherhood all together.

I am Chill Babe, a ready smile and a thumbs up sign always available to anyone.

 

Until I cried buckets for another contestant being voted off “American Idol”.  

My heart ached for this young man who despite his “incapacities/challenges” was able to become a musical inspiration to the world.

But deeper was my pain for myself, untold, withheld.

It was then that I realized that I was…tired.  Oh, so tired.

 

I was tired of work, I was tired of doing errands and household chores.

I was tired of staying up late for Nina.  (Oh, how bad that sounds!)

I was tired of being Ms. Cool.  Chillin when I didn’t have to.

When there was so much to be said.

So much that had to be revealed and let out.

 

Sometimes, there’s no pride in being calm. 

 
  

 

Reclaiming My Life

To say that I have been busy the past few weeks would be an understatement.

Busy attending to my career,

busy having dinner with friends,

busy partying,

busy shopping…

I have been busy doing stuffs that, to my utter wonderment, were not necessarily baby related and the least bit maternal.  But surprisingly just right.

I was busy “being me”.

 

Or at least reclaiming the “me” I thought I was and more.

Having a baby brings so many changes.  Everything is not the same as it used to be.  And however much one tries can never be the way it used to be.

Your sleeping pattern changes, you suffer in a time warp of eternal lack of sleep.

Your relationship with your husband changes, those sweet “alone times” seeming to dwindle in history.

Your friends begin planning for the next grand vacation, camping, scuba diving, you get all worked up in excitement until you realize you have a little one to be left at home.  

Everything changes. Geez, even your bra size changes!

And in the midst of this, I asked myself if I have allowed myself to get “lost” in the demands and changes of motherhood.  Have I already lost myself?

 

And in my quest for an answer, I found myself in the parlor.  Spending a fortune on a hair treatment that will turn back the clock and give me the appearance of youthful glow and optimism without busting my bank account.   And discovering, as my husband appreciately eyes me over, that it was all worth it! 

In the mall’s women’s department, purchasing a couple of what to date would be my biggest expense on lingerie, as it promises to push and lift my once youthful pride and glory.  I in turn tried to suspend my disbelief as I clutch on the word “perky” on the description tag.

I found myself in coffee shops and nice eating places, with friends.  Sitting, oh not so quietly, and listening to them share their latest exploits and escapades.  I was afraid to become one of those moms who, lounge in their baggie pants, do nothing but to incessantly talk about their young ones, forgetting that for some life is not only about having a baby.  But about exploring one’s boundaries, one’s world, doing more, achieving more.  And at each laughter and every guffaw, I found myself tingling all over, with warmth and joy.  With inspiration.  With deep appreciation for people who have loved me, who have shared in my passions, my dreams and my heartaches, and who will be there for me and with me in each of life’s many surprises and tribulations.

And I found myself at Mang Inasal’s, the newest “inasal” place to hit the metro, sitting in front of my husband and listening on how he has discovered this place and what makes it better than the other “inasal” places out there.  I was reminded on how much we loved food that we would hang out on the same eating joint for weeks on end until our craving gets spent and we literally throw up from the mere sniff of it.  I was reminded on how gallantly he had always treated me as he served me a stick of that chicken thigh and spicy chicken sauce.  And how we enjoyed our mundane talks at each and every bite.  I took a leave from the office that day and it was surely a leave well spent.  As we walked our  “fullness” out, his hand clasped in mine,  I thought how much I have missed my husband and moments such as these with him.  It was such a joyous and relaxing break from the busyness of our parental life.

 

I lay down with Nina last night, finally after almost three (3) whirlwind weeks of “reclaiming” myself.  

And it was a good, whole, contented sleep. 🙂

Beware of stalkers!

What would you do when you find out that your ex has been stalking you all these years?

( )  Jump in jubilation

( )  Scream in horror

( )  Stalk him back

( )  Have a manicure and let it pass

(  )  None of the above

( )  All of the above

 

I found out recently that my ex viewed my friendster account.  If that wasn’t enough of a surprise, he even added that he has already seen a picture of my daughter and all of the other pictures posted in my profile. 

There are more or less eight (8) albums in my friendster account, each chronicling the milestones in my life.  From my wedding, the birthday of my son, my pregnancy countdown, baby shower, nina’s baptism, nina’s monthly birthdays, etc.  These are pictures I hold dear as they celebrate my family life, my relationship with the people I love.  These are pictures I posted to share with my sister abroad and other friends who have since left the country so that they may celebrate with me in my joy, my tears and my growth.  These are not open for gawking, these are not open for curious on-lookers, certainly not open to exes whom I have already sworn out of my life.

To say that I feel violated is an understatement. 

Ibyang says that I must feel like someone took a peek at me.

No, its worse than that. 

I feel like someone invaded my home and took the very part of me.  

He barged into our bedroom and into our family life. 

He shared in our laughter, our tears and our joy.

He has no business doing that. 

Whatever his motivations might be, I know it is not coming from a sincere heart.  The act of stalking by itself being a dishonest act.

Some may feel that I should rejoice in the knowledge that he is not yet over me.  That he has gone through lengths to know where I was and how I was doing.  That until now he is still pining for me. 

But the thing is I AM over him.  And he should respect that.

25 Random Things About Me

This is derived from Facebook.  Thought to share it here for those who don’t have any FB account (Hi Ibyang!  Hehe!)  Anyways, these are 25 NOT so random things about me (It took me more than an hour to finish this!)  It’s also a fun way to assess how well I know myself (which turned out to be not so well, sigh!).  Read on and see how well you know me too!  Feel free to add some random things about me too.  You might know me better than I know myself.  Hehe!

(Facebook Rules: Once you’ve been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 25 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it’s because I want to know more about you.)

 

 x————————————————————————————————————————x

 

        1.       I   can talk a mile.  Complete with all the curves, adjacent and trajectories.  One has to keep up as I forget my original topic at times.  J

 

2.       I’m a good listener.  It’s the least I can do for having one suffer my talk. J

 

3.       “Suplada” and “mayabang” are always, always people’s first impression of me. 

 

4.       The first impression doesn’t usually last. J

 

5.       I think I am funny. My friends tell me I’m witty. My family doesn’t believe any of these.

 

6.       I have many faces.  I have my lawyer face when I’m all serious and stressed out, I have my professor face when I look respectable and credible, etc.  But of all these faces, I am most comfortable with my “bungisngis” face reserved for family and friends.

 

7.       I was the subject of a bull session in high school…twice!  The mean girls resented that I spoke English or the fact that I was doing well in class.  According to them, I stole the recitation answers from them. Duh?

 

8.       I and BFF always thought that we were “chubby” in high school.  We walked miles and tried almost all diet fads to lose weight only to discover that we weren’t after all that “chubby” back then.

 

9.       I was nominated to join Ms. SBC in law school.  Yep, hard to believe, but I was popular…especially with the boys.  All the walking and dieting paid off and I was suddenly no longer obscure.  Then BF however ditched my dreams into becoming a beauty queen. Sigh! 😛

 

10.   I’m tough in court and in class, but I’m a push-over when it comes to my family.

 

11.   I was asked to play basketball for the school’s varsity team.  I was in grade 5.  My parents did not allow me as it was not such a girly sport.  I lost the gift then.  I never played again.

 

12.   I spoke Spanish in college well-enough for the Spanish Embassy to offer me a scholarship to study in Spain.  Any course.  As long as the language was perpetuated.  My knowledge of Spanish now is limited to what Dora the Explorer tells me. J

 

13.   I love watching movies!  My fondest memory was watching three Filipino movies all in a single day for only P 30 each.  That left me with P 10 for my fare to SM City.   I had sandwiches and juice in my backpack for refreshments.  It’s  one of the coolest adventures I’ve had ever.

 

14.   I’m a few units short of having a minor in English.  Not studying grammar but English and American literature.  I took all those extra units as an excuse to read nineteenth and 20th century authors.  Curiously, I majored in Political Science. And there is nothing literary about it, believe me!

 

15.   I cook…well-enough for people to pay for it.  In college, I earned extra money selling polvoron (a recipe I learned from my mother).  In law school, I sold carrot cake (recipe courtesy of BFF’s  mom).  I’m doing gourmet cooking now.  Orders anyone?  J

 

16.   I am open-minded. People think I’m very conservative but you can actually tell me that you’re a swinger, or that you enjoy making out with your boyfriend’s best friend, and I won’t bat an eyelash. 

 

17.   I draw.  I would have auditioned at the UP Fine Arts if only my parents didn’t think it was not a “real course”.   My art is now limited to doing “art attack” with my nephews.

 

18.   I am the “Coolest Tata” ever!  This, according to my nephews and nieces with whom I play Bakugan, Pokemon and computer games with.  I do Mad Science and Art Attacks, organize slumber parties, halloweens and treasure hunts.  I am “Tata Fun” to them.

 

19.   I love the 80s!  I know the Duran Duran songs by heart as much as I know the Tears for Fears dance hand moves.  I also love  Mazinger Z, Daimos and Voltes V.  I am among the few who knows the connection between Steve and Prince Zardos. 

 

20.   I have a pretty good memory.  I can remember conversations from decades ago, complete with exclamations, surroundings and outfits galore. 

 

21.   I host events and parties.  Quite well, I heard.  From children’s parties to weddings, formal black tie affairs to election campaigns, I have done it.  I will dance, sing and even render a poem just to make sure the event turns into a success.  (Ang hirap rumaket!)

 

22.   I write.  I won first prize for a Filipino short story back in college.  I thought I’d go for a Palanca next.  But I never did.  Nowadays, I’m happy to be just blogging. 

 

23.   I am a moderate Filipino language purist, “katamtamang Purista”.    I am not an extremist, I think “salong pwet” was concocted by an overzealous and insecure mind.  I believe that there is enough in the Filipino vocabulary that can describe most things out there.  I don’t think a word becomes Filipino simply by putting an “A” or an “O” at the end of it.   The language can evolve beyond that. 

 

24.   I am a very “sensitive” person.  A feeler, says a clairvoyant. Psychic says BFF.  I have great empathy for others.  I usually know a person’s emotions before she can even articulate it.  I can tell when an argument is about to erupt minutes before the trigger is said.  I absorb other people’s emotions and energy (much to my dismay).  I can sense when I am needed by a friend or family member even when they are miles away.

 

25.   I have a very good connection with my God.  I know that whatever happens in my life, whatever obstacles there may be, I will turn out fine.   I have claimed and have realized that I am the recipient of God’s many blessings.  I have great faith in God’s faithfulness to me. J

 

 

 

 

Walk My Talk; Talk My Walk

Something weird is happening.

My life is unravelling before me…

This, on my 36th year of existence, jurassic by some standards, hardly the age for new beginnings.

One would have thought that motherhood would slow me down.  A five (5) month old baby that heartbreakingly clutches on me, a nine (9) year old boy I could hardly keep up with, a husband to pamper and pander to, a household to run, loads of officework to attend to….but no. 

In an uncanny sort of way, I find myself…

In a museum.

Rediscovering a childhood love for art,  

And rekindling past friendships.

 

Joining my first walkathon.

And, sans the bulging belly, loving it!

 

Opening a Food Order/Take-out Service.

Sharing my passion for food and finally living out a dream.

 

Joining Facebook (through the proddings of Blue Sneakers).

Finally coming to terms with a sordid high school past,

And, in a weird sort of way, discovering that I was well-liked(?) afterall.

 

I am putting myself out there. 

And it is scary, exciting, and joyous all at the same time!

There are moments I am filled with self-doubt, the chip on my shoulder sometimes a brick dragging me down.  I am still scared of judgment, of dismissal, of failure.  But the great thing about being at this age I guess is that I can now handle it, welcome it, and then chuck it all up to being just one of those things. 

And so, Feng Shui updates notwithstanding, I will go on that Carlos Celdran Imelda Tour,  I will enroll myself on that catering service training course, I will illustrate my friend’s children’s book, I will attend (sked permitting) our High School 20th Year Reunion, I will work my butt out to fit into that tiny black dress, and do more!

I will stand on a precipice and face my fears.  

I will ‘Walk my Talk’ and ‘Talk my Walk’.

I will allow the blessings of the Lord to wash over me, overwhelm me. 

I will go on this journey…

And experience what life has in store for me. 🙂

3 Years and Counting…

15 January 2009.

Three (3) years of marriage.

I’d like to say it has been blissful.

But that would be a lie.

As with all marriages, we have had our share of disagreements (who’s idea is better), arguments (who’s right), and catfights (Of course, I am!).  Sometimes I win (“Babe, where are my golf clubs?”), sometimes he wins (“Okay, you can have the red room as well”), other times there are just no winners (“I just had to walk it off.”  “I followed you.”)

There are days we understood each other…perfectly.  Acting in unison, melding into one.  Some days we just don’t see eye to eye.  (“Just WHO are YOU?!)

There are days we can’t have enough of each other; there are also days we can’t stand each other. (“Space” is not only a design concept; it is a human right!) 

My husband is not the same person I have met before. 

He no longer opens the car door for me (“kaya mo naman yan”), but he massages my legs at night and my back in the morning.  He no longer surprises me with flowers (Sayang lang) and gifts (Mahal) given in grand production (Arte), but he gave me a 20 gram white gold bracelet (that carries Nina’s initial) for Christmas.   He no longer kisses me with the same passion as when we were merely a couple, but I felt him tuck me in and kiss me goodnight in my sleep last night.

A friend once told me that there are things about one’s husband that one may not be able to agree with.  She failed to add that there are things about one’s husband that one will be able to love. 

Along with the booming voice and the sometimes abrasive tones are the sweet candid statements of hopes and dreams, the honest and vulnerable utterances of fears and apprehensions for the family’s future.  Along with the sometimes torturous fights are the sweet, heartbreaking, and oftentimes wacky, reconciliations.   Along with the cluttered guitars and the golfclubs on the hallway is the need and willingness to share one’s love and passion, to de-stress, to entertain, in front of the family, “with” the family.

Marriage is truly not what I envisioned it to be.

It has not been rosy, it has not been blissful at all.

But it has always been happy. 🙂

 

Revisiting the Year Past

The night air is cool.  It’s 3 a.m. and I’m once again up for my “date” with Nina.   As usual, mother and daughter revel in the quietness of the night (Nina full from her nighttime feeding) allowing me to have my thoughts do its own meandering. 

It’s another new year.  It looks promising.  I am hopeful.

I reflect upon the year past and, with the warm bundle in my arms, it is not difficult to see what it meant for me. 

I became a mother. 

And with that comes a year-long learning of how it is to nurture life within one’s self,

And the understanding of the sacrifice, selflessness and love that comes with raising one. 

To say that “the day one decides to have a child is the day one decides to wear her heart outside of her” is an understatement.  I am overwhelmed by the wealth and depth of emotion that wells up inside of me each time I look at Nina.  How I have produced such a beautiful child is a  wonder to me.  A true miracle.  To realize that she is mine, my own, brings aching joy in me. Renee Zellweger was wrong in saying  “you complete me” in reference to movie husband Tom Cruise.  No, my child completes me.  The love one has for one’s husband can never equal that which one has for one’s child.   She is simply a part of me.  And her small hands clutching mine, her bright wide eyes mirroring mine, will be a constant reminder of how she has become my heart. 

 

 I became a daughter.

I love my mom immensely.  We share a bond that, I must admit, only a few have.  But going through the throes of pregnancy and having a child have deepened our relationship even more.  She has always been my friend, my anchor, my confidante.  During my pregnancy, she was my eating buddy, my supplier of all those delectable cakes. 🙂  My mom brought me to the hospital when I was due to deliver.  She gave me a brave teary smile as they wheeled me to the delivery room.  She was the first one I saw when I gained consciousness, the first one to tell me I’m now a mom to a beautiful baby girl. 

They always tell me that I’m my mom’s favorite.  They speculate that it must be because I’m the sweetest among four girls, it must be because we have the same likes and dislikes.  Now, I know.  I’m her favorite because she can’t help it.  As each and every one of my siblings is also her favorite.  With each child is formed a bond fashioned not only by birth but by love, concern and selfless sacrifice.  Being a mother made me understand all that my mom did for me.  All the sacrifice she made for me.  All the dreams she dreamt for me.  And I love her more than ever.

 

And I became a friend.

Funny thing about being pregnant – it makes one available to others.  In my case, I was locked and shackled to the bed most of my first and third trimester, I was always available for a chat.  I became a friend, a confidante, a confessor and, in some days, a psychiatrist too.  “A” for “angst” would have been my baby’s first word. 🙂  

“F” for fun and foodtrip would be part of her vocabulary too.  I was “kaladkarin” as ever, available for coffee perks, dinner discussions and even morning breathers.  I gave love and was the recipient of love…tons of it.  The baby shower Blue Sneakers threw for me, acting in concert with mega events coordinator Ibyang, will always be one of my cherished moments.  Not because of all the gifts and merrymaking that went into it, but because it evoked “friendship” in its truest and deepest sense. Simply put, I felt loved.  I have always been blessed.  But to be blessed with such good friends is truly one absolute fulfillment.  

2008 was truly “the Bomb”! 

It celebrated life, love and friendship. 

I cannot help but be hopeful for 2009. 🙂

Nina’s Baptismal Celebration

Yesterday’s Eucharistic celebration was the Feast of the Baptism of Jesus.

Which reminded me that, after all the hoopla, I forgot to blog and post the pics of my daughter’s baptism!

It must have been the rush that comes with the season.  It must have been the burnt dress (yes, our helper burned the dress I intended to use for the occasion.  I cried a bucket and no one, save my friends, seem to understand why I was so distressed!) It must have been the daunting task of uploading a hundred photos… that I totally failed to write about it!  

But, here it is, (minus all the angst),  Nina’s Baptismal Celebration!  

 

“I baptize you in the name of the Father…

Of the son…

And of the Holy Spirit.

 

 

By this white garment you have “put on Christ”, have risen with Christ, anointed by the Holy Spirit, incorporated into Christ.

By this candle, lit from the Easter candle, Christ have enlightened you.  You are now “the light of the world.”

Your godparents shall assist and guide you to remain faithful in the Christian path.

You are now purified from all sins, a new creature, an adopted son of God, a partaker of the divine nature, a member of Christ and co-heir with him, and a temple of the Holy Spirit.

Welcome to your family of Christians…

Welcome to the Christian World!”

 

It was such a success…

 

We had to give thanks…through little cupcakes of love.

 

We felt the love.

 

And, most importantly, so did Nina. 🙂

A Happy, Happy New Year

Tuesday, 6 January 2009, 7:17 a.m., Fourth Division, Sandiganbayan.

The hallway is quiet, still a little dim.   A utility personnel passes by and greets me good morning.  I see that I’m the first one in court.

Three hours later, tired, I lagged myself back to the office.  It’s the first week of the year and I can’t believe I’ve just been to court!  I feel like singing Bugs Bunny – “Oh bury me now…under the prairie…!”

Fresh from the holidays, in good peaceful spirits, I somehow imagined that I’d be welcoming the new work year with more or less the same affable attitude.   But someone has filed a pleading and the court, seeming to have made diligence part of its new year’s resolution, quickly acted on it that I suddenly found myself dressed in my court attire, donning my court face.  

Don’t get me wrong, i love dressing up.  I enjoy fashion.  I have a haberdasher that regularly brings me cloths and two (2) seamstress with whom I enjoy collaborating with.  Suits are my work gear and, fortunately, they suit my built as well (i.e., they hide my unmentionables).  But there’s an attitude that goes with wearing suits.  Ramrod straight back, hair tied back in a bun, sure even strides, moderate voice, calculated moves.  Along with the black handbag (my black Coach bowling bag is my current favorite), the black pumps (dependable Enzos), and the South Sea Pearl earrings, suits exude power.  Authority and confidence written all over.  It signals me that I should prepare for business and assures me that I am.   

Ricky saw me this morning and asked “Mommy, are you going to a court battle?”  Suits are my armor.  I can have a shouting match with the best of them counsels and verbal assaults will just bounce off me.  I am afterall wearing a Zara blazer (or yari ni Manang Sara ;p).  Suits are my chosen outfit for any adversarial proceeding…

And it is just soo stressful.

Hindi siya masaya.  Not for this new year. 

Wearing them this early in the year saddens me, tires me out.  Blazers with those thick pads are already heavy to begin with, but the work associated with them makes it an even heavier burden. 

My director hands me a pile of transcripts from a previous hearing.  Opposing counsel did something foul, he directs me to fiercely oppose his every move.

I tell him, “How can I kick ass when love is in the air?” ;p

I feel that my maternal instincts have somehow blunted my razorsharp tongue.  All fight gone from me.  I feel very protective.  “Can I give the accused a hug instead?”  (Never mind that he has stolen millions of pesos in public funds ;p )

The air is cold.  To my mind, it is still the holidays.  Peace, prosperity and love for all mankind…Lea Salonga’s singing in my head.  Surely it’s not nice to start the new year “kicking ass”!?!  Can we not talk about it over a cup of coffee?

Director smiles, I smile.  We both know it won’t happen.  I’m simply being delusional. 

And so, once again, I wore my black blazer and donned my court face…

in this HAPPY, HAPPY New Year!