Awesome-ness

So I decided that since I'm boring, the best way to spice up my blog is to write about food. After all, food and I have a very good relationship. I absolutely adore it and it seems to love me back -- considering how faithfully it has stuck around (my tummy, my ass and various other well padded areas). 

Today we found ourselves in Quezon City - a rare occurrence since (a.)we live in Alabang -- or as our pretentious neighbors like to say "the South" -- as if we were in Georgia and (b.) I avoid QC like the plague considering that it spawns the worst traffic jams and driving there brings out my inner-bitch-road-ragey-foul-mouthed side (or as you recall...the personality I used to reserve for litigation). 

"The Spouse" (who has advised I do not have lawful permission to use his name in print and therefore must not be named) and I have a rule when we venture to his neck of the woods -- yes, I married someone from QC but in the 10 odd years we've been married I've only been to their family home twice.  Whenever we're in QC we have to try a new restaurant and it can't be a branch of some restaurant we could find in Alabang but just have not tried before.

After several frantic minutes of googling, loo-looing and zomato-ing -- voila! I decided that we would try   

H Cuisine.  This little hole-in-the-wall in Scout Rallos St., off Tomas Morato is owned by Chef Hannah Herrera and calls itself the proud home of the "Awesome Angus Beef Belly".   I first heard of it whilst flitting in and out of my mom's room while getting ready for work. My mother is wonderful lady - smart, beautiful, smart, well dressed...( and did I mention smart?)  But her one fatal and nearly inexplicable flaw given that she is, as I may or may not have mentioned SMART  --- she LOVES Kris Aquino. 

Seriously. Even after the whole Joey-Marguez-STD thing. 

So anyway, she mentioned this place as it was featured in "Kris Magazine" --- and yes folks, there is a WHOLE magazine devoted to Kris Aquino. Because she is NOT at all narcissistic or anything...

But I digress.. 

Normally, an endorsement by Kris Aquino would instantly make me break out in hives and avoid something like the plague. I mean really...you can only hear her say "It's so sarap!"  and "I really like it talaga!" in her weird valley girl meets Fran Drescher nasal twang with combination facial calisthenics (...how does she get her mouth to do that square shape?!!) before wanting to hit something with a baseball bat.

Except today it was raining, and hence traffic was hell, I had two hungry and belligerent under 10-year-olds in the car and The Spouse was fast losing his patented temper...when what should mine desperate eyes spy?!!  H Cuisine!  (And even better, an open parking space right in front.)

But I must say --- the "Awesome Angus Beef Belly" was in fact AWESOME. And for those of who who have had a meal with me or interacted with me at any point for any appreciable long of time, you will know I take my food very very seriously.  So seriously that I would say 75% (the other 25% being attributed to The Spouse's saintly patience) of the reason why my marriage has listed so long is because of our mutual love of food. 

YOU HAVE TO TRY THIS.  IMMEDIATELY.

The beef is fork tender but not falling apart so that it has both body and texture. The vegetables on the side still have a crunch -- clearly not from the frozen foods section. The mashed potatoes are fluffy and the gravy is silky.  And when you put this stuff in your mouth --- magic happens.  The meat is seared and caramelized to perfection and the ratio of fat to meat is perfect. (Please note that the last few times I raved about a steak in this manner was in reference to a P 5,000 steak at Elbert's and the P3,500 ribeye at Anotnio's).  I think this is now my new favorite steak....now if only we could airlift the place to Alabang. 

The servings are generous and the prices are more than reasonable for the quality of the food - a platter for sharing is less than P 600.  The waitress told us it was good for two to three people and she was absolutely correct. 

(Although unchecked and on a bad day when I'm depressed, I'm pretty sure I could have eaten the whole thing)

To wash it all down - order the carafe of Dalandan Juice. 

Tart, not too sweet and very refreshing..ahem..quite like myself (I'd like to think).

And let's not forget dessert... The toffee pudding with caramelized pecans and vanilla ice cream was sooo good, I didn't have time to take a picture. Same thing happened to the blueberry cheesecake that my 8 year old ordered -- assuming she would have let me share, it vanished too quickly to take a photograph of. 

So if you ever find yourself in QC and Kris Aquino notwithstanding, try this place out.  

#hcuisine #awesomesteak #QCrestaurants

Je ne parle pas français!

It's raining and cold and I'm too lazy to go anywhere. The TV is on and all I really hear is "Bleh Bleh Bleh pour quoits Bleh Bleh Bleh".  The hotel has only 3 English channels and brain is too tired to listen to the state of the world.   Meanwhile, it's very sad that all I can say perfectly in French directly translates to "I don't speak French." 

Oh and "Bleh"  which in English translates to "Blah" (in my parallel universe).

While it is still light outside, I just realized it's almost 10 pm. For this reason (and because I'm procrastinating from opening my work email) I had a striking realization  -- wait! I'm in Paris! Isn't this a good time to start blogging again? 

So if any of you are still out there - consider this the revival of my feeble attempts at literary immortality. After all, they say once you put something on the net, it will be there forever. Immortality regardless of merit. Sweet.

I came to Paris for the first time in 1989. I had just turned 18 and my dad took me on this trip as a birthday present, and possibly, because I was brilliant enough not to ask for a big, expensive debutante ball. He thought that was brilliant and to reward his wonderful, thoughtful daughter, he took me to Europe. In the end, he probably spent more on me than a party would have cost, but now that he's gone, I think the memories I made that summer and which have stayed with me for 25 years are priceless.

At 18,  I had braces, big hair and an unhealthy fascination with Rick Astley. It just so happened that that summer, Rick Astley was HUGE! And it also just so happened he was in Paris promoting his new (possibly only) hit album.  So one of my big memories of Paris is dragging my dad around various record stores, trying to catch pareng Rick and get an autograph on cassette tape! I can't even remember where we eventually found him but I recall vividly the bewilderment on Papa's face as he found himself amidst a sea of semi-coherent, screaming teenaged girls.

In fact, I have photos somewhere of me in my fuschia pink jacket, tsunami bangs and pink leg warmers.  And since no one is probably reading this anyway, I think I shall find that photo when I get home and post it --- because public humiliation, even the self-inflicted kind, is good for keeping the lawyer-sized ego in check.

I fell in love with Paris at 18 and I am falling even harder as 40 something something....


I will try to be good about posting. Starting today. Well. Maybe tomorrow. 

(Hmmm. It's soooo not going to be chronological...not sure I can live with that...oh well. Virginia Woolf rocked stream of consciousness and so can I).