Daddy Cool

A postcard with a picture of the famous Stonehenge ( giant rocks arranged in a circle in the UK) arrived in the mail three days ago. 

It was my daughter’s Father’s Day greeting for my hubby.  “You rock!”, she scribbled on the back of the picture. 

I smiled at her attempt to capture in just two words what her dad is to her.  This in turn lead me to think about my own dad.  What sort of a father was he and what he meant to me.

My father has been gone for more than 30 years and I go back to that time when he was a very big part of my life.

June is for Remembering

June. Start of classes, the rainy season and the countdown to Christmas. June. Philippine Independence Day, Feast days of the Sacred Heart and Mother of Perpetual Help. June. The wedding month. The month my father married my mother.

He was 37; she was 21. He was a man about town; she was a simple lady from the province. He was tall, dark and handsome. She was brimming with youthful energy and had the most captivating smile. He was the boss; she, an apprentice. He pursued her relentlessly. Not even a strict aunt could stop him from courting her. Nor the muddy conditions to her parents’ farm. It seemed that his resolve to make her his wife could not be shaken. Their story had the elements of a Mills and Boons romance novel.

Although coming from a well-to-do family, my father did not have nor sought the financial assistance to bankroll a grand wedding. Instead, in a very simple ceremony, my father married my mother one afternoon in June with his mother, my mother’s older brother and my mother’s aunt standing as witnesses. After the ceremony, there was no grand party. Not even snacks for the witnesses. Instead, after my father and mother had some siomai in a downtown Chinese restaurant, he brought her back to the aunt’s house while he went back to his house. It would be several days before they moved in together and lived as man and wife. It would be a year before my mother’s parents would talk to her again.  It would be a life that both would not have wanted any other way.

My siblings and I never tire of my mother’s stories. And stories are all we have now to keep our hearts from forgetting what June reminds us of.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I would like to share with you an old fashioned recipe that I know pleased my father. Below is a recipe of Arroz ala Cubana. Easy to make but very impressive on any dining table. This is a good way to remember June.

Arroz ala Cubana

(This is an adaptation of a recipe taken from “Philippine Cookery and Household Hints”  by Herminia Villacorta (“Mimi Alvarez”).  If you are an old time resident of Cebu, you would recognize the name. She owned Black Princess—a sweet shoppe.  Unfortunately, it no longer exist.)

¼ k ground lean pork

¼ k ground beef

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 small onion,  chopped finely

½ c tomato sauce

½ c raisins (more or less depending on your preference—I love raisins)

¼ c green peas (more or less depending on your preference)

Salt and pepper

4-5 bananas ( saba or cardaba or plantain), sliced and fried until golden

4-6 sunny side up fried eggs, one egg per person

In a wok or kawali, heat about 2 tablespoons of oil. Saute the garlic and onions.  

Add the ground meat, tomato sauce then season with salt and pepper.  Stir until cooked through.  

Add the raisins and peas and stir for another 2-3 minutes. 

( Optional: Move the cook meat to one side of the wok.  Tilt to allow excess oil to collect.  Remove with a spoon as much oil as you can.)

Assemble:
Option 1

Pack the rice in a ring shaped mold. Turn over onto a large platter. Pour in the cooked meat in the center of the ring. Surround the mold with fried eggs and bananas.

Option 2

Place in the center of a large platter the cooked meat. On one side of the platter, add the fried eggs. Balance the other side of the platter with fried bananas. Serve the rice in another dish or bowl.

Interesting Option 3

On a tortilla, place a fried banana, some chopped fried eggs, rice and cooked meat in the center. Roll this up in a burrito fashion and wrap in a square of aluminum foil. Bake for a few minutes in the oven. Serve immediately once out of the oven. Some hot sauce would hit the spot.

Last Words

"In some hearts some rain must fall."

This is what is written on the tombstone of my father. When he suddenly died 29 years ago, not only did it "rain"; his death flooded our hearts with sorrow.



The family was hurting and when asked what we would like to put on his tombstone, we immediately agreed to use his favorite quotation. The quote somehow captured how my father felt about death-- as natural as the rain, a part of life.



We felt that engraving these words would immortalize him. And so it has in our hearts.

Before my father passed away, a visit to the cemetery was not a once-a-year event in our family. My father would pile us (that's 7 kids) in whatever vehicle we had at the time and take us on a spin to the cemetery on many late Saturday afternoons. We would visit the family plot (on my father’s side) and pay our respects to my grandparents and an assortment of uncles and aunts. Candles would be lit and flowers from our garden would be arranged. While my father sat with his thoughts and my mother continued to busy herself with the flowers, us kids would be given permission to roam the cemetery grounds. As children, we had this natural curiosity about the cemetery's residents. As a group or sometimes breaking up into two's or three's, we would peek inside the Chinese mausoleums lined up on the outer edges of the cemetery. Here we would catch a glimpse of the deceased whose serious faces were forever captured in yellowing laminated photographs. I personally liked the family plots that were more like open gardens than the usual marble-litic tombs encased in more cold marble. There were also out-of-this-world designs-- I guess befitting the state of the occupant. If there were a endless variety of "designs" for the final resting place; there was a lack of creativity when it came to tombstones. My siblings and I would call out to each other if we spotted anything that deviated from the usual name, date of birth, and date of death. It was like hunting for treasure. But our calls to each other were few and far in between. As dusk softly fell around us, my mother would call us back and once more we piled into the car and bid everyone good-bye.

Now this got me to thinking: If I were to come up with inscription for my tombstone, what would I say that would succinctly convey to anyone bending over my grave the kind of person I was?

Thinking about this has made me realize that I aught to be the kind of person NOW that I would like to have been after it’s all over.


+ + + + + + + ++ + + ++ + + ++ + + +


So while I ponder on how best to live my life and thus be true to the epithet on my tombstone, I share with you a deliciously deadly cookie recipe. This recipe was part of an ad for baking chocolate which I had clipped out from old magazine.


Baker's One Bowl Death by Chocolate Cookies



2 packages (16 squares) Baker's Semi-Sweet
Baking Chocolate, divided
3/4 cup firmly packed brown sugar
1/4 cup butter or margarine
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon Calumet Baking Powder
2 cups chopped nuts (optional)

Heat oven to 350 degrees F. Coarsely chop 8 squares (1 package) of the chocolate; set aside.

Microwave remaining 8 squares chocolate in large microwaveable bowl on HIGH for 1 to 2 minutes. Stir until chocolate is melted and smooth. Stir in sugar, butter, eggs and vanilla extract. Stir in flour and baking powder. Stir in reserved chopped chocolate and nuts. Drop by 1/4 cup full onto ungreased cookie sheet. Bake for 12 to 13 minutes or until cookies are puffed and feel set to the touch. Cool on cookie sheet for 1 minute. Transfer to wire rack to cool completely.

Makes about 1 1/2 dozen cookies.

Notes:
You may cut the amount of nuts used. I only added ½ cup to my batch of cookies.
Do what I did. Instead of using semi-sweet baking chocolate squares, I used 8 regular baking chocolate squares and just increased the sugar to 1 cup. And chopped up 8 oz or 225 grams of regular milk chocolate bars— more or less.

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."



-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

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.

---------------------------------------

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.