Hey There Little Firefly!

The day has come to an end. Bone weary from clipping grass and cleaning up my garden, I sat by my bedroom window watching night take its reign. I glanced at the familiar landscape that was now shrouded in darkness. The rain had stopped falling for the time being and the breeze carried a sweet note of freshness.

As I continued to stare at the darkness, my attention was called by a tiny spark that went on and off among the tall grass in a vacant lot across the street. Then I spotted another tiny flicker of light. Soon several tiny lights danced and flashed and raced over the grassy area. Was I seeing aliens or some supernatural beings? Yes, in a way, they were supernatural. For how else could I describe the tiny sparks of light coming from fireflies? My tiredness forgotten, I was once more transported to the many times in the past that these little bugs have enthralled me--- up in the farm of my grandmother, at a lonely stretch of beach, with a friend on our commute home from work, and during early evening walks with my then young children.

I also fondly remember how my then 18 year old son decided to drive me around our subdivision pointing out dark sections of vacant lots he knew held similar "magic shows". My son, who like all boys, is an expert with bugs and all crawly things, explained that fireflies normally live close by water sources-- creeks, ponds, canals and the like. It also helps that there are trees and tall grasses in the area for them to rest during the day.

And so, Mother Nature has waved her magic wand and the resulting light beams filled me once again with wide-eyed wonder. With a happy sigh, I called on my two young house helpers to hurry up to my room. Magic shows like these were meant to be shared.

I know that I am blessed to live in a community that still hold many of Nature's treasures. For through these natural treasures we find the child that is in us. The child that hopes and dreams of all that is wonderful and good.

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Living in the city may have made many of us lose touch with the child that is within us. We have grown cynical with the world and with those around us. Well, here's a recipe that will surely bring out the child in you and will make you look at life with hope. Enjoy!

Chocolate Chip Cookies (recipe from "Joy of Cooking"-- this recipe is a JOY classic, and the book states that the recipe had appeared in the book since the 1943 wartime edition-- how's that for popularity?!?!)



Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Grease or line 2 cookie sheets.
Whisk together:
1 cup plus 2 Tablesppons all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda

Beat in a large bowl until well blended:
1/2 cup unsalted butter, softened
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup packed light brown sugar

Add and beat until well combined:
1 large egg
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 teaspoon vanilla

Stir in the flour mixture until well blended and smooth.

Stir in :
1 cup chocolate chips
3/4 cups chopped walnuts or pecans (optional)

Drop the dough by heaping teaspoonfuls about 2 inches apart onto the cookie sheets. Bake, 1 sheet at a time, until the cookies are just slightly colored on top and the edges are brown, 8 to 10 minutes.



Let stand briefly, then remove to a rack to cool.

Mama said, Papa said...

Why is it only later in life that a person finally accepts the wisdom of his elders? What is it in our youth that makes us want to discover the answers to questions already answered?

These questions I ask myself as I looked back at the rebellious, curious and wonderful nature of my children. In them, I saw the young me that once did battle with her parents (why can't you trust me?!); her teachers (why can't you tell me something I really don't know?!);and, with anyone who had some form of authority (I wanna be free!). In my children, I saw myself trying to comprehend relationships (does he or doesn't he?); the cause and effect of the forbidden (just one try); and the meaning of life (what am I? who am I?).

Was this life's cruel joke of getting back at me? I figured not. It's just life. It just is.

So what is a parent to do? Well, when faced with the challenges of raising my kids, I applied the following time-tested prescriptions as told to me by my mother and father:

For fears and worries-
Let's cross the bridge when we come to it.

Troubles at school-
Would you like me to talk to your teacher?

When fighting for a cause-
It's alright to be idealistic. But remember to be realistic.

When depressed-
Laugh and the whole world laughs with you. Cry and you cry alone.

When selling or buying-
There's a sucker born every minute.

When faced with life's trials-
In some hearts some rain must fall.

The need to exercise caution-
Ang mag-dali, ma-bali. (literally: those who rush will break)

Definition of Lust-
Mapug-gnan ang baha, nungka ang biga. ( You can hold back the floods but not lust.)

Do unto others...-
Ang gaba dili mag-saba. (Karma does not announce itself.)

Approach to Make-up-
Start as late as you can with the least amount on. Add one layer very, very gradually over the years.
Late Exposure-
Just like cars, boys will always go for the newer models.

Surviving a Bad Experience-
It's done so don't ever do it again!

Permission withheld-
Your time will come.

A Mother's classic fallback lines-
a) You'll know what I mean when you have children of your own.
b) Because I am your mother and I say so.

Do you still remember what your mama and papa use to say to you?

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The word mama & papa bring to my mind Italian recipes ( go figure..). Maybe it's my association with words like: Mama Mia and Papa Picolino (a pasta commercial). So here's a healthy and hearty recipe adapted from Rachel Ray. Don't be turned off by the paleness of the picture. Trust me. It's delicious or so my family tells me.

Chicken Piccata Pasta



• 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
• 500 grams of chicken breast, cut into 1-inch pieces
• Salt and pepper
• 1 1/2 tablespoons butter
• 4 cloves garlic, chopped
• 1 onion, chopped
• 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
• 1/2 cup white wine or grape juice
• 1 lemon, juiced
• 1 cup chicken stock
• 3 tablespoons capers, drained
• 1/2 cup flat-leaf parsley, chopped (optional)
• 1 pound penne rigate or fetuccini pasta, cooked to al dente
• Chopped or snipped chives, for garnish (optional)

Heat a deep nonstick skillet over medium high heat. Add a tablespoon of extra-virgin olive oil and the chicken to the pan. Season chicken with salt and pepper. Brown chicken until lightly golden all over, about 5 to 6 minutes. Remove chicken from pan and return the skillet to the heat. Reduce heat to medium. Add another tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil and 1 tablespoon butter, the garlic and shallots to the skillet. Saute garlic and shallots 3 minutes. Add flour and cook 2 minutes. Whisk in wine and reduce liquid 1 minute. Whisk lemon juice and broth into sauce. Stir in capers and parsley. When the liquid comes to a bubble, add remaining 1/2 tablespoon butter to the sauce to give it a little shine.



Add chicken back to the pan and heat through, 1 to 2 minutes. Toss hot pasta with chicken and sauce and serve. Adjust salt and pepper, to your taste. Top with fresh snipped chives.

Paseo

"Come on kids," called my father. "Let's go for a paseo."

Quickly, sometimes forgetting a slipper or to brush our hairs, my four sisters, 2 brothers and I climbed into the car, jeep, panel— whatever vehicle my father owned or was assigned with at the time he said the magic word—"paseo". This was a word synonymous to adventure. In our child's mind, we did not care how we looked or dressed. What was important was that we were ready for adventure in our ride around our town. There was no telling what we would see or experience along the way—a new neon sign, maybe some barbeque on a stick or boiled peanuts bought at the park, or just the chance to be the first to seat by the open window and feel the rush of the wind in our tangled hairs.



Every now and then these "paseos", with the able assistance of my mother, would become the never-to-forget, one-of-a-kind outings in the summer of my youth—a trip to a small town on the outskirts of the province to look at an old church; a tour to the Southern tip of our island; barge rides to access secluded white sand beaches; rough terrain that was considered to be a road to my grandmother's farm hidden up in the mountains; a ride on a motorized banca to reach a sandbar in the middle of the deep blue sea.



That was a long time ago. Now I continue the “paseos” with my children. And I am glad to report that they are certified bitten by the "paseo" bug. Indeed, travel, even local in scope, opens one's senses to the beauty and wonder of life.

"….life is a journey not a destination. Life is about wanting to experience the world and its myriad of colors with your own senses."



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Do you want to be adventurous but have a cautious nature? Well, I have just the recipe for you. Green Bellpepper Soup! This was a favorite of my father. It has lots of vitamins and it's so easy to prepare.

Green Bell pepper Soup

You will need:
2 green bell pepper, sliced into strips
2 tablespoon of ground beef
2 cloves garlic, sliced thingly
2 tablespoon of sliced onions
2 cups broth (you may use a beef or chicken buillion cube & follow the directions to make the broth)
sale and pepper

What you need to do:
Saute the garlic, then add the onions. Once the onions are translucent, add the beef and stir it about. When cooked, add the broth and let simmer. After 5 minutes or so, add the sliced bell pepper. Continue to simmer until the pepper is tender but still holds it's shape.

Season with salt and pepper. Savour the new adventure in taste.

Mango, Mango-- so good to me

Borrowing lines from the Mamas and the Papas' "Monday, Monday" , indeed I must say that the mango has been good to me and possibly to all those who have been delighted by its delicious flavor. Partaking of a very sweet mango never fails to bring back thoughts of the summers of my youth and memories of my father. You see, after my father consumes both cheeks of a sweet mango, he would clean off whatever fruit is left on the seed-- literally cleaning it "to the bone". Once done, he would request the helper to put the seed out in the sun to dry. After a day or two, my father would get the seed and with a shovel dig up a hole in our backyard. It was like a ceremony of sorts with his three daughters as eager assistants. He explained that mangoes when planted from seeds do take awhile to bear fruit. And at one particular ceremony, he said "I will not live to eat the fruit of this mango but you all will".



Indeed it was to be. Although he never lived long enough to taste the "fruits of his labor", his memory lives on in every sweet mango I eat and in memories of mangoes picked from the trees in our backyard.

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Sweet or sour, fresh or dried, the mango has been served in a variety of ways--creative recipes only limited by one's imagination. You can dice it, slice it and even bite straight into it. Anyway it's served, surely it always is a hit. Now allow me to share with you two very simple recipes. Feel free to come up with your own variation.

Green Mango Pickle Salad (also known as Kamayan Salad)
3-5 green mangoes (preferably the pico type), diced
3 small tomatoes, diced
1/2 small red onion, diced
Pickle Solution:
1/2 c Vinegar
1/4 c Sugar
salt
pepper
1 t Corn or cooking oil

Put your dices mangoes, tomatoes and onion in a bowl.
Mix your pickle solution. The resulting taste will depend on your preference-- if you want it sour then go for more vinegar; if sweet, then add more sugar.
Add the solution to your bowl. Toss and chill before serving. Goes very well with BBQs and fried dishes. It also keeps well in the fridge.

Crema de Manga (or Mango version of the Crema de Fruta)
1/2 doz lady's fingers to line bottom of a rectangular glass dish (about 7 by 10 inches)

1 c sugar
1/3 c flour
2 1/2 c evap
3/4 c water
3 egg yolks, beaten
1 t vanilla
2 T butter
3-5 very sweet mangoes, sliced thinly cross-wise

1 box ALSA instant gelatin (clear)

Have your lady finger lined pan ready. In the absence of lady fingers, you may use slices of chiffon cake. You may also use taisan cake but just remove the top layer of sugar from the loaf and slice accordingly. The amount of cake will depend on how thinkly or thinly your slice it.

In a saucepan, add sugar and flour. Pour in the milk and water. Put over medium heat and stir until the mixture thickens. Remove from heat and allow to cool slightly. Add yolks and vanilla gradually. Return to heat and stir for about 5 minutes more. Remove from heat and allow to cool slightly once more. Then stir in the butter. Pour the the cream mixture on top of the lady's fingers and spread evenly. Carefully cover top of cream with the sliced mangoes-- slightly overlapping the slices. Set aside.

Follow directions found on the ALSA box. Once the gelatin is ready, pour immediately over the mangoes. Please remember that ALSA gelatin sets very quickly.

Cool and refrigerate.

* The success of this dessert is in the sweetness of the mangoes.

Mother Knows Best

I am back in my hometown. A brother and a sister were visiting and I wanted to make sure that I was in the thick of things-- endless reminiscing, partaking once more of the delicious meals that only my mother could wipe up, and visits to old haunts and excursions to the beach.

Now on a return home from a day at the beach, everyone thought it would be a great idea to have dinner at a new resto that had gotten a lot of good reviews. Excitedly, upon reaching the house, there was a race to hit the shower and get all cleaned up. One by one, each member of the family came down from their rooms to wait for the rest. My mom was still in her house dress when she suggested that it might be a better idea to just send the driver out for food, heat up some of yesterday’s party left overs and have a leisure no-fuss dinner at home.

My mom’s announcement was received with lukewarm reception but we all know that mothers know best. So my sister and I set the table and got busy with micro-waving the left-overs. Our cook of 40 years had fried some fish to a crisp and had a pot of “utan” simmering on the stove.



With the lechon manok (roasted chicken) brought in by the driver, the spread laid out was a feast.

Gathered around the dining table, grace was said and everyone filled their plates. Soon stories of past misdeeds and mishaps were swapped. Stories that must have been told a hundred times before but in it’s retelling continued to elicit roars of laughter, stamping of feet and banging of fists on table.

The teasing and the reminiscing continued into desserts of ice cream and my mom's leche flan (custard). Loud laughter broke out during each narration.



It was a long while before everyone stood up from the table to move on to the terrace for more stories and beer while glancing at the view of the city below.



It was another feel-good moment with family--- a moment that would not have been as boisterous in a public place nor as spontaneous. Indeed, mother does know best.

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A hit at dinner that night was the leftover chicken asado my mother had made the night before. Nothing fancy nor complicated. It’s a favorite dish my brothers and sisters love. A dish that has been part of wonderful memories that only a mother could cook up. Now here’s a dish no restaurant could come up with.

Chicken Asado



You will need to marinate a whole chicken* in the following: some vinegar, soy sauce, crushed garlic and pepper corns, and salt. Best to leave this overnight in the fridge. The next day, fry the chicken in a wok (kawali). Once brown, remove the chicken. Remove most of the oil to leave about 2-3 tablespoons in the pan. Fish out the crushed garlic in the marinate and fry lightly. Add slices of one big onion and a small can of drained mushrooms (optional). Saute until the onions are translucent. Bring back in the chicken; pour some of the marinate and add about a cup of water and a bay leaf into the pan. Let simmer for about 20 minutes. Add two to four potatoes (depending on size) that have been peeled and quartered.



Adjust the seasoning by adding more of the marinate or water, if vinegar flavor is too strong. Continue to simmer until the potatoes and chicken are fork tender. Serve to family with a side dish of happy memories.

*you could op to cut up a whole chicken for quick absorption of the marinate and easy frying.
** sorry that I can’t be exact with measurements. This is a dish that like love cannot be measured. It’s all a matter of practice and experience.