London: Sights and Sounds

“Where do you want to go?”, my daughter asked on our second bright morning in London.

“Here, there and everywhere!”, was my answer—quoting Paul MacCarthy.

And indeed we “tubed” and walked everywhere for the next two glorious blue-sky-days in London.

With a little help of our trusty TimeOut guidebook, we were on our way. What follows are pictures and impressions of what I saw and heard— not necessarily in the order that we saw them.

As was suggested by my daughter, we walked through the long and winding road of both the north and south sides of the Thames River. This gave me a better feel of the areas than if we had taken the bus or taxi (so expensive) and zipped around like crazy. At a leisurely pace, I saw some notable structures and everyday life along the River Thames.

Tower of London
A Beefeater acted as our guide— actually he would make for a different kind of stand-up comedian. He regaled us with stories of intrigue, murder, scandal and romances—peppering his spiel with witty remarks.

Did you know that King Richard III is alluded to in the nursery rhythm “Humpty Dumpty”? It was said that this king had a hump and that during the war of the roses, he was pulled off his horse and killed with a blow to his head. So that “all of his horses and all of his men, could not put Humpty together again.”

Bridges of London
London Bridge- I had expected a wooden, rickety structure but was dismayed (!) to find that it was all cement and definitely will not be falling anytime soon.

Millennium Pedestrian Bridge- oh, so modern and elegent with all its cables holding it together.

Tower Bridge- It's a pity we did not have time to see a ship pass through this draw bridge. 

At a short distance, we spotted the St Paul’s cathedral and many imposing and luxurious buildings. For lack of information, we took turns making up stories of the history of such a building--- like that was the palace at which Princess Kate had her engagement party with Prince William. If Her Majesty, The Queen, found out about our little tales, we would surely be deported.

Big Ben
He was silently looking down at all the tourists clicking away with their cameras. How many millions of people have looked up to check the time?

London Eye
The Brits have a knack of making the ordinary, extraordinary. This giant ferris wheel sure makes all others puny in comparison.

Modern Art at the Tate Museum

Who would have thought that it would be possible to turn a former power plant into an art museum? Even the giant, now empty fuel tanks were mini venues for an out of this world experience of red lights, black and white artsy movies. But I must warn you—trying to decipher the meaning of some of the art works displayed —like a torn canvas or pieces of wire attached to a ball —can be a head banging experience.

As the weather was sunny, I could not help stopping every now and then to take pictures of everything I saw—to the disapproval of my daughter. She wanted me to act naturally. But I felt that it’s all right. Everything was just so picturesque against the blue, blue sky.

Regent’s Park
Since winter was just around the corner, all of the flower beds were already asleep. But this did not take away the pleasure of walking around the huge park—there was a soccer match going on in one area, bikers sharing the lane with mothers and their well-behaved babies who quietly took in the scene from their strollers, I saw a pair of swans gliding down a stream and heard a black bird call to its mate. Only prime and proper dogs on leashes are allowed in the parks. And best of all, there were strategic wash rooms with toilet paper!!

Evening at the heart of London's West End theatre district
I had booked tickets for “Singing in the Rain” over the internet while I was still in Manila and we just needed to walk over to the theatre to pick up our tickets. It was very convenient. While it was still early, we spent our time in a second hand bookstore browsing away at the collection—I was surprised to find Philippine coffee table books on furniture and food. Imagine that! Then it was time to see the play and my daughter had to restrain me from singing along with the actors. The play brought back visions of Gene Kelly and Debbie Reynolds. The play was made special with the “rain on stage” effect that got the front row theater guests wet with the splashing and kicking of the actors on stage.

London Eats
Fish & Chips- This meal of battered fish and potato fries could fetch L5 at the market and L11 at a pub. It can go as high as L18 with fancy fixin’s of mash peas and a cabbage slaw. I imagine that to get that proper crispiness, I would have to get a fryer before I attempt this at home.

Pret A Manger-  It's the opposite of all the fast food chains in the world.  This restaurant serve food that do not have the usual preservatives, chemicals and additives very common in fast food offerings.  I love their porridge (oatmeal) with honey.  It is the creamiest I have ever tasted.  There was one outlet close to our hotel and my sister and I would have our breakfast there.  They also have free wifi-- a big plus for my sister who was on a working vacation.

Restaurant at Large - While at Harrods, we thought we'ld check out their food outlets. But Harrods (a department store that is possibly the grandest grandmother of our Rustan’s) was literally crawling with people. Their in-house restaurants were filled to capacity. We opted to try one of the many restaurants lining the streets outside of Harrods and entered a restaurant named Area (162 Brompton Rd) that seemed Turkish on the outside but had an extensive Italian Menu on the inside. One wall was decorated with different kinds of world currencies. Our apprehensions were put to rest when we tucked into our orders (osso bocco, pasta with salmon and asparagus, and pork ribs). Delicioso!

Food Tripping at Boroughs & Camdem Markets- There were such a variety of food offered in these venues. It’s like every country in the whole world was well represented in both markets. French cheeses, German sausages, Spanish paellas, English organic farm produce, European cakes, candies, preserves, meat pies, sandwiches, pizzas—even siopao!!

xoxoxox

I must make mention of our late lunch at The Lamb—a very old Pub in Bloomsbury. Prior to my visit to London, I thought that a pub was the English counterpart of a American Bar or the Pinoy’s beer garden. Boy was I wrong. Pub is short for public house. I felt like the fool on the hill. It’s more of a meeting place for friends and families to have a meal together, relax and have a beer. Also, my daughter informed me that one ordered and paid at the bar as it is very rare for a waiting staff to come to your table to take your orders. And did you know that tipping at a pub requires a little “drama”. One does not tip the barmen or barmaids. Instead, one says “please have a drink on me” or something similar. The barman then adds the cost of the cheapest drink to your bill.

I was also pleasantly surprised that English pubs were a go-to place for comfort food. You’ll find man-size sandwiches, eggs, sausages and mash potatoes, meat pies and stew in their menu. At The Lamb, we had a lamb and tripe stew—but of course. It was delicious with chunks of soft and gamey lamb cubes and chewy tripe. Two very generous slices of bread came with the stew. The serving was quite big that we had no need for dinner.

This has been quite a lengthy blog entry and so I will spare you my usual recipe offering.  I shall promise to share with you a British dish or two as soon as I have tried out recipes from a cook book I bought in a London bookstore. 
Tata! Do come back to read my next and final blog entry about my UK trip.

Meanwhile, please do enjoy this little trivia: How many Beatles songs can you spot in this blog entry?

London: On A Clear Day

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Heathrow Airport. Local time is 5:58 in the morning and the temperature is 3 degrees Celsius.

For your safety and comfort, we ask that you please remain seated with your seat beats fastened until the Captain turns off the Fasten Seat Belt sign. This will indicate that we have parked at the gate and that it is safe for you to move about.”

My sister, J, and I had finally arrived in London.  A trip I prepared for since that fateful day in September when she invited me to join her.  It was a much appreciated gift to gain an insight, though briefly, on British culture.  And even more so, it was a God-sent opportunity to bond with my daughter who was in the UK on a scholarship grant.

It was easy moving out of the airport to our hotel.  An underground train or the tube, took us directly to a station that was a block away from our hotel.  Since it was too early to check in at our hotel, we left our bags with the concierge and decided to walk around the area.  Although the trees were bare and the cold was getting into our bones, the blue sky made up for it.  We counted ourselves very lucky since we were told that it had been raining in London for the previous days.

We passed a church and at first I thought it was a Catholic one—it turned out to be Anglican. I reminded myself that everything changed with King Henry the VIII. But it did not stop me from saying a silent prayer of gratitude for a safe trip.

With the cold just getting too much to handle, we entered a StarBucks coffee house for some warmth. A croissant and a cup of tea helped.

 

Luck was on our side as the British Museum was just across this coffee shop.  I marveled at the tall and massive columns.  And was agog at what laid inside.  Question: How did the British manage to bring such huge and heavy works of art from one end of the world to their country?  I am sure some of these countries would want to have them back.

Our eyelids were getting heavy and although it was still early afternoon, we thought it best to catch up on some much needed sleep.  Rest would be important specially when we had planned to pack our days with the sights, sounds, smells and taste of London.

xoxoxoxox

The English are generally known to be reserved in their manners, dress and speech.  They are famous for their politeness, self-discipline, and their love for tea. And tea it was for me for the duration of my stay. 

Of course, I also wanted to make sure that I was making proper tea.  Guided by  instructions printed on tea boxes and advises passed down from one stranger to the next, I now share with you steps on coming up with that perfect cuppa:

Warm  the teapot (4-cup capacity -- preferably of the best china) by pouring hot water into it.  After a minute or so, pour out the water. 

Add one teaspoon of loose tea leaves or 1 tea bag for every person served—plus 1 teaspoon of loose tea leaves or one tea bag for the pot.  (For the love of the Pot!) 

Now add freshly boiled water into the pot with the tea. Preferably spring not distilled water —one cup for every guest. And remember, chlorinated water will give off a smell to your tea that would agitate you or your guests.  

 Let the tea steep depending on the type used:

o                          About one minute for green tea.

o                                Three to six minutes for black tea.

o                                Six to eight minutes for Oolong teas

o                                Eight to twelve minutes for herbal teas.

o                                Note: if you like stronger tea, don't steep longer—add more tea, instead.

For those who want milk in their tea (but not in herbal teas, please), add it after the tea has been poured in the cups. They say it is best to use the least creamy type. This I confirmed with the complementary skim milk and tea packets provided by the hotel.

Pass around the sugar bowl for those who wish to cut the bitterness of their brew. George Orwell, a British tea purist, would be turning in his grave at the act of adding milk and sugar to tea. 

But in the end, tea is for the living and personal preferences should prevail.  So carry on and make yourself a cuppa tea the way you like it.

As I am home now, butter on hot pan de sal makes perfect sense

And that my dear friends, was my lovely first day in London.

Boracay: Trying to Save the Sunlight

I had just spent three days in paradise. All because my sisters M & V were visiting from the US together with M’s hubby and son. Another sister, G, and her hubby plus my son and his girlfriend completed the reunion entourage of 9.


After more than 20 years, I was once again looking at the powdery white sands of Boracay. Fat cumulus clouds rolled over the blue, blue sky providing the perfect cover from the harshness of the tropical sun. At that very moment, everything seemed perfect.

I was willing to overlook the flight delays; the collision of our banca with another banca;

fumes from tricycles weaving dangerously on the narrow road;

the haphazard mix of sari-sari stores, massage and tattoo shops and the resorts—high and low end of every conceivable design and concept —squeezed tightly together.

All of these dismal sights and sound were nothing compared to that eventual glimpse of paradise.

In those three days, I pondered this question: Is Boracay better off today than it was 20 years ago?



20 years ago: not much resorts on the beach



Dinner by Kerosene Lamp

Do the changes justify the improvement of the financial standing of the majority of the local folks?


Eager kids rush to our boat in the hope of making a sale


Alex, our tour guide/banca owner/cook was a poor fisherman twenty years ago. Today, he owns 2 motorized bancas that he rents out to tourists. His three kids are college graduates and earning decent wages.

Need a guide? Call Alex- 0918 324 5075

Hawkers walk up and down the beach with their wares hoping to catch the eye of an interested tourist. Many coming from nearby provinces and as far as Mindanao.

Sun hats: P150

What of the environment?

Towards early evening, resort employees come out to rake the sands—picking up trash and sea weeds washed ashore. At night the tides come in and give the sands a once over. In the morning, everything is untouched and new again.

Surely the great number of visitors must be putting a strain on sanitation.

While walking on the soft sand, I saw bits of broken glass. While island hopping, I noticed a plastic bucket bobbing over the waves.

What of the moral fiber of the community?

There are many sad stories of the local youth being taken advantaged by island guests. Alcoholic beverages are consumed more than water; parties have been the jump off point to rowdy behavior; and, modesty is set aside while prancing around the island.

A photo shoot for a Men's magazine

While attending Sunday mass, I noticed that the church was overflowing with Filipinos. Force of habit or not, I let God be the judge. Still, it was heartening to see that the Catholic faith was strong in Boracay.

The choir did a fantastic rendition of “The Prayer”.

Is there a middle ground where the well-being of the community will not continue to be compromised in the name of progress?

Ahh, the road to paradise is truly filled with challenges.

xoxoxoxoxoxox

 

Doesn’t it make you feel like
Tryin’ to save the sunlight
Surely you feel the way i do

We’re not gonna last forever
Blue skies and sunny weather
The problem is up to me and you

We shouldn’t be so careless
Think of the things we cherish
Think of them all gone away

                               As Sang by Lani Hall & Herb Albert

xoxoxoxoxoxox

When on vacation, do as the locals do. Feast on seafood and some pork belly. Splash some local vinegar on some chopped tomatoes and onions for a salad.  Slice up sweet mangoes for desert and give your belly a taste of paradise.

 

For most grilled seafood, the only seasoning you need really is salt and pepper. A squeeze of lemon or calamansi is optional. Throw on a hot grill and in 10-15 minutes it’s done. Overcooking makes for a tough fish or shrimp. Besides, no one ever died from eating raw FRESH fish.





Flower Power

Flowers always make people better, happier, and more helpful; they are sunshine, food and medicine for the soul. Luther Burbank


Whenever I find myself thinking about a problem, I can’t help but sometimes get deeper and deeper into a bottomless abyss of despair and anxiety. It’s like an addiction of never ending what ifs and whys.

I remember the many times I would knock myself out with worry. Before long my fertile imagination would paint a guesome picture of the worse kind of accident. Then time passes and I marvel at how quickly these worries go “puff”.

Of course, there have been close calls and it would have been unnatural if I did not worry. But it’s dwelling on them far too long that causes havoc to tranquility. And so before I realize that dwelling on a situation is not going to help, I have already died a thousand imaginary deaths.

It’s a good thing that every now and then I get a wake-up call that puts everything into perspective. Sometimes it takes the form of a song, a passage in a novel,  and, sometimes it’s a shared story.

Just yesterday, a friend pulled me aside to share his wake-up call. Let’s call him R.

R is an early riser. At 4AM, he is up and busy sweeping the dry leaves that had fallen in his yard. As he sweeps the leaves into a pile, his mind is preoccupied with a financial problem. What should he do? Who can he ask for help? How will he continue to support family members who depend on him? These questions go round and round in his head as he moved on to water his plants. He is very passionate about his plants but lately, his focus had been on his problem. He was about to enter his house, when his attention was caught by a Trumpet shrub that was in full bloom. The morning sun was shining on it just like a spotlight on a stage actress.

He had been so anxious over his problem that he was losing all hope. He had buried himself in his own misery and had lost sight of the beauty that was around him. With new resolve, he got ready to attend the early morning mass. Then and there R accepted that he had done all he could and was leaving the rest to God. A God who never fails to send us reminders of hope in the form of flowers-- if we care to to take notice.

xoxoxoxoxox

I remember being served deep fried stuffed squash flowers in one of those provincial heritage tours. As I recall, the flowers were stuffed with a mixture of ground pork and shrimps; dunked in a batter; and deep fried. Unfortunately, I don’t have the recipe. But I will not dwell on my limitations.   Instead, I share with you some eye-catching beauties from my garden.

Periwinkle (suppose to cure cancer)



Lantana: a butterfly's delight



My Summer Blooming Lilies

Hibiscus aka Gumamela= a herbal tea

  These are my everyday reminders of hope.

Feel at Home

If there is one day in the week that I so love, it would be Saturday. It’s the day I leave the dust in peace and the laundry for Monday. It’s the day that I linger over breakfast—in my housedress. It’s the day that holds exciting possibilities of discoveries— checking out a nearby farmer’s market, a romp around the neighborhood, or simply a good book to read while curled up in bed.

But last Saturday was extra special. I and a group of very close friends were invited to spend the whole day in the new homes of two other friends. It was a coincidence that both homes were located not far from each other in a neighborhood that was still lush with vegetation.

I always believe that to be invited to someone’s home is a privilege. It is not only an invitation to set foot inside the person’s “castle”, but it is very much an invitation to see the homeowners as they truly are.

And what a privilege it was indeed! We had lunch at the first house at a very leisurely pace. The hostess making sure that our needs were met. Good food made for good conversation around the table. In between bites of King Seafood Roll, I could not help admiring the tastefully arranged interiors as the sunlight poured in from floor to ceiling windows.

But I believe that the loving relationship of the family within made for the brightness in the home.

With the long lunch over, we moved on to the tour of the house. Every now and then, we would pause to comment about the wallpaper or a particular artistic treatment of the floor in the outside balcony.

Again, I felt fortunate to be allowed access to my friend’s private sanctuary.

Then it was time to move on to the second house for afternoon snacks. When we arrived, I already felt a welcoming warmth envelope the group just by walking up to the front door. Just like the first house, the second house was tastefully furnished. Just like the first house, the second house radiated with a very positive energy. We moved from one level to the next—stopping to glance inside the rooms. Again, I felt honored to be invited into the heart of my friend.

We then settled in what I felt was the best part of the house. A balcony that overlooked a view of distant mountains. Here we continued our conversations on life and love over plateful of delicious pasta and smile inducing desserts. Before we knew it, night had descended and a concerto of sounds filled the darkness.

We dilly-dallied with our good-byes. We lingered on the roadside before reluctantly climbing into the car that would take us home.   As I look back at my friend’s house, I could not help thinking that a day spent with good friends always seem too short.

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Housewarming Prayer

O Lord, bless this new home with your presence.

May your angels always hover over it and keep it safe.

May this home be filled with laughter and love.

And may Mary, your mother, help keep

this home a haven of peace.

Amen.

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Through my writings, I have opened myself to many of you. Through my musings, I have allowed you to take a peek at my life. And each time you visit, I will continue to welcome you with life’s stories and virtually serve up dishes you can prepare for your love ones.
The following is a recipe of a dish served up at one of my friend’s home. I marveled at how each ingredient complimented the other—just like true friends.


King Seafood Roll

250 grams sliced fish fillet (creamy dory will do)
2 t minced ginger
1 ½ t salt
1 egg white
1 t sesame oil
5 crab sticks, sliced in half (you can find this in the freezer section of your grocery)
5 dried shitake mushroom (rehydrate in a bowl of water)
10 pcs shelled and deveined shrimps
10 pcs Chinese cabbage leaves (pechay Bagiuo)

In a bowl, mix the sliced fish fillet, ginger, salt, egg white and sesame oil. Set aside.

Remove the hard stem from the softened mushroom and cut in half.

In another bowl, place the washed Chinese cabbage leaves and pour very hot water on it. Remove the leaves as soon as they wilt and drain. Set aside.

On a plate, lay one Chinese cabbage leaf. On the leafy part, place a piece of fish, mushroom, crab stick and shrimp.

Roll up toward the soften stem part of the leaf. Repeat with the rest until you have wrapped up everything.

Place in a steamer and steam for about 10-15 minutes depending on how large your roll is.

Serve piping hot with soy sauce and calamansi or lemon juice.

Sibling Rivalry

She was a person I loved to hate. My enemy, my adversary, my competitor.  She was always in the way. Taking what was mine.  And when she failed to get her way, she would run after me with murder in her eyes.

Funny that she thought of me in the same way.  She is G, my sister.  She was born a year after me.  She was a skinny child with sharp features.  She had piercing eyes and very curly hair.  She seemed to have a perpetual scowl on her face.  As pictures in old family albums would bear me out, her smile was a rarity.

We were the proverbial cat and dog.  Forever arguing, forever fighting. Tired of mediating between us, I remember my father setting up this rule: fight with words not with fists.  When it became impossible to follow this rule, my father made a new one: if you must hit each other, do so but avoid hitting the head.  And so it went.

It started with name calling, then a push, then a punch on the arm or a kick on the shin.  After that all hell broke loss giving way to a mad chase.  A door is slammed shut followed by loud banging on a locked door with shouts of revenge.

The fights did not stop as we became teenagers.  Most of the time, the fights revolved around the use of the telephone—what else! She would be on the phone for hours knowing that I was expecting a call.  I would then press the phone button to cut the call and she would then give chase. I would slam my bedroom door shut and she would bang and kick at my door  with vile threats of bodily harm.  Some things remained the same it seemed.

Then one day, she cuts short her college studies and decided to work.  She left for Manila and the house became quiet.  In between long absences, she would come home with suitcase full of exotic gifts from far off places.  There were chocolates and candies for everyone.  And best of all, there were stories of where she had been and the people she had met.  As time went by, we became the best of allies.  I cannot count how many times she had been generous with her support nor the times we had to hold on and be strong together.

We now look back fondly to our “war years” and have a good laugh.  And I am taking this opportunity to express my deepest affection.  I love you G…… there, I said it!  : )

xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

A few weeks back, my sister, G, was visiting a younger sister, M. G had heard that M loved the way I prepared Afritada while I had visited. G decided to make Afritada for M.  G looked up my recipe and got busy.

When M came home from work, G presented her Afritada and asked, “Please taste my afritada and tell me if mine is better.”

“Please don’t make me do that,” M pleaded.

“Come on, I won’t get hurt.” Countered G.

After partaking of G’s Afritada, M declared, “Sorry, yours is not the better one”.

You can take the mad aggression out of siblings but you can’t take out the competitive spirit.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

I may have the better Afritada recipe, but I have to concede that G has the better American style meatloaf recipe (think: giant baked hamburger).  Give this a try and see how it measures up to the meatloaf you have tried in the past.    

G’s American Style Meat Loaf

You will need:

1/2 kilo lean ground beef

1/2 kilo lean ground pork

1 egg, beaten

1 can Campbell cream of mushroom

1 cup bread cubes - toasted and ground finely (may use store bought bread crumbs)

1/2 cup  white onion, minced

4 cloves garlic - minced

1 1/2 tsp salt

dash of pepper

5 strips of bacon for lining

What to do:

Mix the first 9 ingredients.  Line a loaf pan with the bacon, pour in meat mixture into the prepared pan and bake for 1 1/2 hours in a 350F oven.  When done, let rest for 10 minutes then invert meat loaf in another baking dish.  Broil for a few minutes to make the bacon crispy. 

Enjoy!

Note:

I sneaked in some diced carrots for color.  Since I did not have a loaf pan, I used aluminum foil.  I devided the mixture into two.  On one square of foil, I laid out the bacon on the foil before putting the mixture on top.

Then I rolled up the foil and sealed the ends. 

I did the same for the other half of the mixture.  I then baked the "rolls" but for a shorter duration (about 45 minutes) since the portions were now smaller.

Angels in Disguise

Angel of God, my Guardian dear, to whom His love commits me here, ever this day be at my side, to light and guard, to rule and guide. Amen.


In a sermon given by Father B at our parish, he relates that he had seen Angels. They are everywhere. But these are not the spiritual Angels mentioned in the Bible. Nor do they take on the shape as painted by the great maestros. No visible wings. No golden halo. Not even in flowing white garments.

These are earthly angels that are with us--  family members , dear friends, those who do services for us and even strangers.  And because their gesture of kindness, generosity and protection are sometimes taken for granted, these angels go unnoticed.

This made me sit up and reflect on my own experience with earthly angels.

One time, I was all sweaty having rushed over to attend mass in a chapel in a depressed area. I could feel perspiration running down my nape. Not having any handkerchief or a paper napkin, I could not wipe the sweat on my brow. I was miserable as I listened to the priest.

Lo and behold, someone tapped my elbow. When I turned, I saw a young boy—about 6 or 7 years old with a roll of toilet paper still intact in its plastic bag. He was offering it to me. At first I did not understand. Until I saw the boy’s mother gestured that it was to wipe my face. The mother must have seen my discomfort and had given orders to her boy to get some tissue on credit at the sari-sari store outside the chapel. From the way the mother dressed, I knew that money was tight. I thanked her profusely for her offer.

She was an angel— in disguise.


Another time, I was in a foreign country with two of my friends. We had enjoyed ourselves immensely taking in the sights and sound that we forgot about the time. When we decided to go back to our hotel, we realized that it had become quite late and the darkness somehow made it difficult for us to figure a safe route back to the hotel. We tried to hail the occasional taxis that passed us but none of them would agree to take us. One rather rumpled taxi driver stopped but only to give us directions on how to walk back to the hotel. We were a sorry sight. But all was not lost, the driver who had earlier given us directions, came back and told us to get into his cab. He would take us to our hotel. At first he was grouchy as he explained that he felt responsible for our safety. He then checked himself and soon became more pleasant as he pointed out interesting landmarks along the way. We arrived safely at our hotel.

He was an angel—in disguise.


And how could I forget that time after a great earthquake rocked Manila. The earthquake happened shortly after lunch. After the shaking stopped, a lot of office workers poured out of their office buildings. I was one of them. For some reason, I remembered that there were no public transportation plying the streets. I remembered walking with a group of strangers determined to find a way home. At that time, there were no celphones; nor did I have a phone at home to call and check on my children. Then out of the blue, after walking more than 5 kilometers, a jeepney stopped and the driver and his companion offered the group a ride closer to our destination.

They were angels—in disguise.


These are but a few stories about the earthly angels I have met.   

Yes, there are angels sent my way-- to guide and to protect me.

But more importantly, I ask myself how often have I missed the chance to be an angel myself.

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Recently, I had dinner with three of my best friends. They have given me wise counsel on difficult situations; given me comfort when I was feeling low in spirit; and, stood by me when everything seem to be going against me.

They are angels in disguise as well. Their care and concern make them so easy to love.   Just as easy to love is this simple and light dessert I took to our dinner.

Fruits with Almond Jelly

3 cups Assorted fruits, chopped
(banana, apples, seeded grapes, orange slices, papaya)
plus 1 cup sweetened pineapple juice

or

1 large can fruit cocktail (do not drain)
1 package of Almond Jelly (prepare according to instructions, cool and slice into cubes

1 bottle each of kaong and nata de coco (drained of syrup) Optional

Mix all of these ingredients in a bowl. Chill before serving.