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Rainbow Café forever!

My ex-girlfriend M. and I started on the opposite side of the foodie fence when we began what others call “dating”. She was an exacting gourmet, and I was a slob. But we settled on a happy compromise apart from standard, home-cooked native Pinoy: we both liked Chinese. We made the rounds of cheap Chinatown restaurants in the sidestreets of Binondo-San Nicolas, Sta. Cruz and Quiapo, where to be a gourmet is to eat heartily with soupbowl slurps, chopstick ninja, endless pots of tea, sometimes a final steaming towelette. Plus take-home hopia or siopao.

Rainbow Cafe
A quick glimpse into the ambience of our favorite cafe, January 2014.

Like many other denizens of the metropolis in the early 1980s, and as a new couple adjusting to each other’s tastes, we also liked Max’s, Little Quiapo, Savory, Moderna, Ma Mon Luk and all that traditional stuff. We partook of them all occasionally, when we had money to spare. But we soon settled into regular budget haunts — many of them tiny holes in the wall or half-forgotten sleepy noodle houses a only a few of our acquaintances knew — where the waiters knew our tastes like Mama’s favorite Sunday lunch fare.

If you’ve been to Ramon Lee in Quiapo and Canada Cafe in Ongpin (are they still open?), you’ll know what I mean. Like I said, M. is proud of her cooking, and didn’t shirk from pointing out the merits and demerits of each dish. I, on the other hand, would grin and nod contentedly at the waiters, even burp and tap my full stomach in appreciation. Continue reading “Rainbow Café forever!”

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Romancing the fireplace (3)

This is the concluding third of a three-part essay (one of my all-time favorites) I wrote for my “Pathless Travels” column, which was published in Northern Weekly Dispatch, 3 Oct 2004, Vol. 16 No. 39. Part 1 and Part 2 were posted here earlier. The essay is already dated in some spots, but mostly it speaks equally well of how I feel now about fireplaces, as how I felt about this inspiring topic in 2004. I hope you enjoy reading it!
cooking rice on wood fire
They say the best-tasting rice is the one cooked over wood fire. But do you know how to?

Starting and sustaining a fire looks easy enough. If you observe peasants, rural housewives, or forest dwellers go about their daily tasks around the hearth, you will discern a quiet grace in the way they tend to the fire and cooking pot with the least fuss and effort.

“No sweat. I could do that too,” you might say to yourself. Continue reading “Romancing the fireplace (3)”

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Romancing the fireplace (2)

This is Part 2 of a three-part essay (one of my all-time favorites) I wrote for my “Pathless Travels” column, which was published in Northern Weekly Dispatch, 26 Sept 2004, Vol. 16 No. 38. Part 1 was posted here earlier. The essay is already dated in some spots, but mostly it speaks equally well of how I feel now about fireplaces, as how I felt about this inspiring topic in 2004. I hope you enjoy reading it!

In earlier decades. Filipino urban dwellers sought an alternative between the upper-class modern electric range (which was clean and convenient, but rather expensive to acquire and maintain) and the plebeian wood stove (cheap, but hard and risky to operate in a firewood-scarce and fire-prone city). For most, the middle choice was the kusinilya, fueled by kerosene (“ga-as“).

kerosene gas stove
An Optimus-brand (Swedish-made) kerosene gas-fueled, single-burner stove. The pressure fuel tank, on the right, has a hand-operated mechanism for pumping air into the tank, to ensure more efficient combustion. I no longer see this kind of kerosene gas stove sold in public markets, where they were ubiquitous in the 1960s and 1970s.

The kusinilya‘s advantages: First, most neighborhood stores retailed kerosene by the bottle. Thus, getting a steady fuel supply wasn’t too burdensome — physically and financially — for the common urban household, especially the harassed housewife with a  shoestring budget. Second, the kusinilya fire was easier to start and maintain than wood fire. A well-handled stove produced a vigorous blue flame that indicated efficient combustion.

But there were also quite a few problems. Foremost, the kusinilya was a certified fire hazard, especially if you hadn’t mastered the fine art of trouble-shooting its problems. This skill, to my mind, was just a notch lower than the pure black magic needed to start an ancient Coleman lamp.  Kusinilya problems happened regularly, as black crumbly soot tended to accumulate inside and around the nozzles, clogging them. With volatile kerosene in open containers just around the kitchen, a small accident could easily turn into an ugly conflagration. Continue reading “Romancing the fireplace (2)”