Holy Week for me and my colegiala classmates was all about retreat (no talking), abstinence (no meat) and fasting (a good time to diet). These were our supposedly little sacrifices to earn us indulgences, the good deeds in reserve in case our book of life in the final reckoning has more bad deeds.
As a child I didn’t find much to look forward to on Good Friday in our hometown of Agoo, La Union.
A chef of a new resto in Bonifacio Global City whips up a perfect paella. Another place entices residents and others to its Italian dishes in the confines of a tall condo building in Rockwell.
Several weeks ago, I had a recurring very bad headache. As I do not really like taking pills for aches and pains, I asked a herbalist, Boy Fajardo, if he had any suggestions. He said it could be due to acidity and suggested I should include kamote in every meal.
Alcapones, Jacky Chunk, Berry Spears doughnuts, anyone? How about an Avocado DiCaprio?
While it’s not uncommon for paella to be served in parties and restaurants, its Filipino cousin, the beringhe (or bringhe) is more rarely seen.
Evincing sense of pride in her province, Cecille Esperanza finally showed off the Marinduque that she could only talk about before through its products which she would bring to us to taste.
In the ’80S there were Madonna, Boy George and Saisaki’s Chef Isao Takada!
AHA Chef Bambi shows how to prepare and cook Chicken Noodle Soup.
It was the kind of serendipitous discovery that doesn’t happen very much these days anymore. We were wandering around The Fort on a Friday night, our pockets flush with month’s end wages, looking for somewhere to eat.
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