Yes, I still own a cassette tape player.

Why?  So I can play two - count 'em - two mix tapes that my friends gave me before I left the Philippines for Canada.

"I hope you remember us and the fun times we've shared whenever you hear this tape," wrote my friend Alexis on the inside cover of one of them.

You bet I do.

I remember the long drives to school, riding shotgun in Alexis' old white station wagon, listening to the radio and singing along, except when it was Mariah Carey's cover of I'll Be There.  When that song came on, Alexis would promptly turn up the volume and we would both listen, rapt and starry-eyed, while everyone else in the car politely kept quiet.  When the final, soul-charged note died away, we would simultaneously release a long sigh, volume turned back to normal, and conversations resumed.

It was like a little piece of heaven on the traffic-clogged highway.

My cassette player is old and clunky, and I guess all those old songs are available in digital format these days, but these mix tapes are keepers.  A lot of love went into them, and you just don't throw that away.

Thank you, friends.

Here are my picks from the combined playlist - have a listen and see if they don't bring back yesterday once more.  (Some of these were retro even for us back then!)

November Rain - Guns N' Roses
I'll Be There For You - Bon Jovi
Love Just Ain't Enough - Patty Smyth
Theme from Dying Young - Kenny G
Theme from St. Elmo's Fire - David Foster
Foolish Heart - Steve Perry
Friday I'm in Love - The Cure
All I Want - Toad the Wet Sprocket
Anything for You - Gloria Estefan
End of the Road - Boyz II Men
So Far Away - Carole King
Sweet Baby - Stanley Clarke and George Duke
Save the Best for Last - Vanessa Williams
Best of My Love - The Eagles
Biggest Part of Me - Ambrosia




Yes, I still own a cassette tape player.




A hundred million miracles ...

... are happening every day.

So the song goes.

Neil Parischa would agree. He's the guy who gave the world 1000awesomethings.com, now available in book form.  Unabashedly appreciative of what you might think are the smallest, silliest things, Parischa reminds us that happiness is not found at the end of a mythical rainbow, but precisely in those nitty-gritty details of life here and now - those little moments that could slip away unnoticed if we don't pay more attention.

Like finally finding the start of this stupid roll of tape, grabbing a tissue at the last second before sneezing, or arriving at the bus stop just as the bus is coming around the corner.

And then there are other little things that are really not so little after all:

When someone calls just to say hi;
When your dad checks under your bed and finds no monsters;
Hanging out with your mom;
A long hug when you really need it.

Marguerites make me smile.  They're tiny, perfect, awesome!

So today I renewed one of my resolutions: never to take little things for granted.  And I realized that I had a pretty awesome day.

It started out with some distressing news, about the kind of crisis you know there isn't a mortal thing you can do to help, except pray.  So I prayed.  And it looks like it just might be working.  So I'll keep praying.

That was one awesome thing.

Later on, I was on the phone with the Chapters lady, looking for a travel book by Frances Mayes called A Year in the World. "Travel," said the Chapters lady, "is about transformation. It's only when you get out of your comfort zone that you find out what you are really capable of." I said, "Is that the blurb on the book jacket?" She said, "Nope, that's my personal philosophy."

The Chapters lady's name is Sultana, and you can bet I'm going to give the store some great feedback about her.

That was another awesome thing.

Heck, I guess I had a pretty awesome week.  I found figs at the market and discovered a new herb: Cuban oregano.  A friend told me some great news about what's happening with her.  I talked to my seven-year-old nephew on the phone, and in a few more days I actually get to see him. I greeted a friend Happy Birthday one day too early.  An editor told me that the article I pitched him perfectly fits the theme of their upcoming issue.  I helped a lady carry her stroller down some stairs.  I think there's a good chance that my friend at work will become my friend outside work.

And the last awesome thing is that I have a million things to do and plans to make, but for now it's time for bed, and my pillows are cool and soft and the sheets smell like the sun because I hung them outside to dry.

Good night, and have a wonderful weekend!




A hundred million miracles ...




A saunter into Gastown

This afternoon the clouds finally parted, the rain stopped, and the sun came out. Perfect timing for my evening saunter into Gastown with my friend Michele. We wanted to try out the Smart Mouth Cafe which, unfortunately, turned out to be closed.  We will have to try and make it there for breakfast or lunch, since they close up at 5:00 pm.

However, our journey there was a destination in itself, because on our way down to Water Street we went along Richards and stumbled on McLeod's Books.

"I'm thinking of buying a Kobo," Michele was just saying as we stepped through the door...and then her voice trailed off.  It was one of those Pearly Gate moments - as soon as we entered we knew we had found Book Heaven.

Imagine floor to ceiling shelves of books....books piled on the floor, on tables and on window sills....aisles and aisles and aisles of books. Old books, new books, books I've read, books I've always wanted to read, and a million more books I never knew existed. We wandered happily and finally had to tear ourselves away with our treasures - a Father Brown anthology for me, and for Michele, Bill Bryson's Troublesome Words.  I don't know if I managed to convince Michele not to buy a digital reader, although I did point out to her that I didn't think a Kobo could render quite the same OMG moment like we had when we walked into McLeod's.

After discovering that the Smart Mouth Cafe was closed for the day, we walked farther down Water Street, past the line-up at The Old Spaghetti Factory, to a little Italian place called Incendio which I remembered seeing on a previous Gastown foray. Michele had the Carnivore pizza (chorizo and prosciutto on a delectable, wood-oven-baked crust) and I had the creamy wild mushroom pasta.

Good books, good food, a good friend - and sunshine.  What more could you want from a day?




A saunter into Gastown




Inspired to love

This is a brilliant little documentary featuring people who have been inspired to change their lives and do everything for love.  No cheap sentimentality here.  As St. Josemaria Escriva said, without love, life isn't worth living.

One woman says in the video, "The best bit you can put in a recipe is love. Do it for love - it does taste different. I'm not joking."

I know exactly what she means. When my late grandmother was sick with leukemia, she lost her appetite and would hardly eat because nothing tasted right. But she loved it when I cooked for her, because she said that my cooking was the only thing that tasted good.

I think of her every time I cook and I always try to add that extra secret ingredient.

Watch scenes from the video and share your own story here.




Inspired to love




Toni's Top Three

I had a great time this spring and summer sampling street cart food around downtown Vancouver with my good buddy Toni.

Lining up for street food is a lot more fun when you're with a friend, so I will really miss Toni and our lunchtime gastronomic adventures. Today was her last day of work before she heads onward and upward to pursue her dream to become an architect.

Here's to you, Toni...and to friendships being forged with the help of good food....and to dreams coming true.


In no particular order, here are our top three picks:

Arturo's Mexico To Go. On Cordova and Howe, by Canada Place.

My favourite among Arturo's offerings: the Gringa, a soft taco stuffed with roast pork.

Next up: La Brasserie, corner of Granville and Georgia, by the Canada Line station.

Only one item on the menu, which makes for simple prep and a relatively short wait: a roast chicken sandwich with fried onions, on a delicious white bun. Drizzle of grainy mustard is a must.

Finally, the Roaming Dragon on Burrard and Robson, across from HMV. We didn't get to try all the tempting choices on their menu, but we did like the pork belly sliders and the deep fried rice balls, accompanied by an icy glass of lychee-basil lemonade.




Toni's Top Three




Spaghetti and sliders and cupcakes, oh my!

It's been a while since I last cooked for children. It's also been a while since I've seen my friend Vanessa, who moved to the Island after getting married. So when she said she'd be in town for the day, I jumped at the chance to have her and her family over for lunch. I made spaghetti and sliders and for dessert, these yummy cupcakes. They are so delicious, I don't mind if Vanessa's kids associate me with them forever in their memories. And I hope these cupcakes helped me to win their hearts, because they've certainly won mine.

FROSTED YELLOW CUPCAKES
adapted from The New Best Recipe

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
8 tablespoons (1 stick) butter, softened
1/2 cup sour cream or buttermilk (click here for an easy buttermilk substitute)
1 large egg plus 2 large yolks, at room temperature
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla

To bring chilly eggs up to room temperature more quickly, place them in a bowl of warm water. Eggs are also easier to separate when they're not so cold.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Make sure that the oven rack is in the middle position. Line a standard-sized muffin pan with cupcake liners.

In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt.

Add the butter, sour cream or buttermilk, egg and yolks, and vanilla. No special mixing required, just throw everything into the bowl.

Beat everything together with a mixer or a sturdy wooden spoon until the mixture is well-blended, smooth and glossy.

Divide the batter evenly into the cups of the muffin tin. Since the batter is quite thick and sticky, I find it easiest to use two teaspoons. Let a big dollop of the batter fall from one teaspoon into the center of the cup, pinning down the liner, and scrape it down with the other spoon. Add another dollop before moving on to the next cup.

Bake for 20-24 minutes or until the cupcake tops are pale gold and a knife blade or toothpick comes out clean from the center. Lift out the cupcakes onto a wire rack to cool.

When the cupcakes are cool enough, top with your favourite frosting (I just use Nutella).

Enjoy!




Spaghetti and sliders and cupcakes, oh my!




Filipino Spaghetti

Oh, the things I've done for my siblings.

Being the oldest child has its perks. You never get hand-me-downs. You get to do everything first. You get to call the shots.

On the other hand, when something goes wrong, it's always your fault. If you had something to do with it, then you should have "known better." If you were nowhere near the scene of the crime, then "why weren't you around to prevent it from happening?"

Also, as the oldest child, you often have to make the delicate decision: when do I side with my parents, and when do I side with my siblings?

With apologies to my parents, I have to admit that often I've chosen to side with my siblings. I've lost count of the times I've heard the words, "Don't tell Mom and Pops." I've had to defend their transgressions, clean up their messes, bandage their wounds, and keep so many confidences, it's a wonder my hair isn't completely gray.

And yet, even my parents will have to admit that we five Olagueras are a pretty tight bunch. Sure, we squabble frequently - sometimes violently - among ourselves. But none of us will let any harm come to the others. And I know my siblings would do anything for me, just as I would do anything for them. (Right, guys??)

My brother in pasta nirvana

Which brings us to why I'm here in my kitchen this Sunday evening, doing something I have never done before: cooking ground beef in ketchup. Fellow Pinoys, you know what I'm up to. Yes, I am making Filipino spaghetti. That furiously red, startlingly sweet meat sauce, containing ingredients that have no Italian origins whatsoever.

What brought me to this, you ask? It's a touching story really. My brother got down on his knees the other day, hugged me around my legs, and begged me to make it for him, "the way Lola used to make" when we used to go over to her house for Sunday lunch.

As a friend of mine pointed out, how could I say no to that?

So here it is. Filipino spaghetti. Actually it is very nourishing, rather good, and super-easy to make. I just hope it turns out the way my brother remembers it. Kain na!

FILIPINO SPAGHETTI

1 pound lean ground beef
2 cups tomato (or banana) ketchup
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 medium onion, minced
2 tbsp cooking oil
1 carrot, sliced
4 hotdogs, sliced

Heat the oil in a skillet or pot. Add the garlic and onions and saute till soft, about a minute or two. Add half a cup of the ketchup and mix well. Cook until semi-dry but not sticking to the pot. Be careful not to let it burn.

Add the meat and the rest of the ketchup. Mix well, cover and cook for about twenty minutes at medium-high heat. Stir a few times to make sure it's not sticking to the bottom. Add the sliced carrots and hot dogs and cook ten minutes more.

Serve on hot cooked spaghetti. Serves two generously.




Filipino Spaghetti




"The aftermath"

The sun finally decided to shine in Vancouver today, but for many it only served to reveal, all the more harshly, the aftermath of last night's madness and mayhem.

There was dismay, shame, outrage....and a huge unanswered question.

But there was also a show of solidarity, as Vancouverites, united in celebration just a short time ago, came together once again to clean up their city.

Most of these photos were taken by my friend Marissa during the volunteer clean-up in downtown Vancouver today. This is the Vancouver I live in. I'm prouder than ever to call it home.




"The aftermath"




Real fans don't riot

Canucks fans rioting?

What Canucks fans?

Want to know about some real Canucks fans?

There's that young father with three kids, all of them sporting blue jerseys.  And the nice South Asian lady in my church who loves hockey.  And the homeless guy who set up a tiny TV set in an alley so he and his buddies could watch the games.  And my former coworker, a grandma and a big Linden fan (as am I).  And my cousin, who's been following the Canucks and playing hockey ever since he could walk.  He cried back in 1994; I'm sure that up North or in eastern Washington or in Calgary - wherever he is at the moment - he's crying again.

We're all crying, because we're all disappointed - understandably so.  But I can guarantee you that none of us was pillaging, looting, or setting cars on fire in downtown Vancouver last night.

Real fans don't riot.  Period.

And real fans stay faithful, even if it takes another seventeen years to get this close again.  Go Canucks Go! 


Real fans don't riot




If these walls could talk

It was the most unconventional history class I ever attended. Conducted on the streets of downtown Vancouver, among teeming crowds watching Game 5 of the Stanley Cup finals, distractions were sure to happen, and they did. Loud cheers and boos erupted around us from time to time, and even the teacher himself had to be dragged back from getting his picture taken with a couple of giggly girls in Canucks jerseys. “I love Vancouver,” he said, grinning.

But with the aid of volunteers pulling speakers mounted on hand-carts, carrying props and holding up visual aids, Carlos Celdran soon captured our attention and imagination. Our bodies may have been standing on a Vancouver street, on a chilly evening in late spring, but our minds were transported back through time and space to a Manila we had never known in our own lifetimes.

Talking for over two hours straight, without the aid of any notes, Celdran had us fascinated and captivated by his rollicking, irreverent, whirlwind tour of Intramuros, through centuries of Spanish rule and thirty decades of American government, through the death and destruction of World War II from which the walled city never recovered, despite reconstruction.

Any Filipino student is familiar with the dates, places, and cast of characters. The Spanish king and his explorers. The rajahs and the city of Maynilad, named for the little white flowers that grew along the Pasig River. The heroes, the friars, the warriors, the general who promised, Terminator-like, to return. The walls, the churches, and the tanks and bombs that destroyed them. The thousands of men who went to war, and the many more thousands of innocents who died, caught between the two armies who used their city as collateral damage.

Celdran made all of these and more come alive in his narrative. He helped us Filipinos understand our roots, and therefore ourselves, a little better.

“I heard someone once say the Jeepney is the perfect metaphor for the paradox that is Manila,” says Celdran. “Is it beautiful or is it grotesque? Is it inefficient or is it entrepreneurial? Is it just a common utility or is it a progressive work of art?

“Personally, I think Manila is more like the Halo-Halo, that afternoon snack made out of a mind boggling myriad of sweet beans, flan, shaved ice, and ice cream.

"Manila is like a halo-halo."
To help us understand this better, we each got one.

“Manila is a reflection of how different flavors can make up a greater whole, and how too much can sometimes be a very good thing.

“If we want to change the way Manila looks, we need to change the way we look at Manila,” he concluded.

Carlos Celdran’s If These Walls Could Talk tour has been brought to Vancouver and Toronto by Tulayan and Kapisanan, in celebration of Asian Heritage Month and Philippine Independence Day. In addition to the Friday and Saturday shows, an extra show will now take place on Sunday afternoon. Admission is by donation. Reserve your spot at Eventbrite.

For more photos of Friday's event, click here.




If these walls could talk




My goodness, it's June!

I've been having too much fun with my folks around. In between bouts of redecorating and shopping expeditions to Ikea, we've been playing tourist. Last Friday night we went to the Richmond Summer Night Market, where we indulged in Asian goodies like takoyaki, Mongolian grilled meat, and duck pancakes.

Takoyaki is my absolute favourite treat. I first discovered them in a hole-in-the-wall Japanese restaurant near work, and once I tried a plate of these hot, crisp, soft, tasty puffs, drizzled with onomiyaki sauce and mayo, and with a little moist and chewy surprise nestled in each one, I was hooked.

Click here for a video demonstration on how to make them at home. But if you decide it's easier to just run out and get some ready-made, I won't blame you! Once you get a yen for takoyaki, it's hard to wait.

The Richmond Summer Night Market is open Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights May through September.




My goodness, it's June!




Purple means I Love You

At least, that's what it means to my mom.

Her favourite colour is purple.  So in anticipation of her visit here, my brother and I painted our spare room a very delicate, pale lilac - which incidentally is also her favourite flower.  What perfect timing that it blooms around the same time as Mother's Day.

This spring, we haven't been getting that much sun, so the lilacs were a little late.  But it's still perfect timing because Mom is arriving today, just when all the neighbourhood lilac trees are finally coming into bloom.

In fact there's a spray in a vase by her bed waiting for her.

I found these great frames at Home Sense.  The photos are ones I took last summer in Quebec. 

New shopping bag, all ready to go!




Purple means I Love You




Welcome to my new neighbourhood

Actually it’s not quite so new to me.  My grandparents and aunts lived in this area years ago, when they first came to Canada, and when I visited them here for the first time as a little girl of eight years old, my grandfather and I would take the dog for long walks along these leafy streets and lanes.  Sometimes, when we were feeling particularly adventurous, we would wander into the woods and go exploring.  It was spring then, too, and my memories of those times are filled with the sharp fragrant tang of cedar, cool rain, sun-dappled leaves and the sound of clear running water.  

Later, when my parents and siblings and I immigrated to Canada ourselves, we ended up living for some years not far from the place where my grandparents had lived.  Our house was near the river, and on summer weekend afternoons we would take picnic suppers down to the park on the water and sit in the sun and watch the tug boats go by.

And now, here I am again.  I learned how to drive in these streets, walked home from this train station on fine days, used to go shopping and watch movies at this mall with my mom and my sisters.  

So moving here has felt a little bit like coming home.

And it’s wonderfully comforting to know that in the midst of big changes, there are some things that you can come back to and find that they’ve stayed the same.




Welcome to my new neighbourhood




An examination of conscience

Love is patient and kind; love is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong but delights in the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails.

I came across this Bible verse today and was reminded of the time I heard it read aloud at a wedding and commented upon later by the priest during his homily. His advice to the couple - to all of us - was, "Keep this verse by your bed and read it every night, with one difference: put in your own name wherever it says 'love'."

Try it yourself, and see if you don't feel like you've looked in a mirror to find that warts have sprouted all over your face. It can give you a nasty shock at first - but seeing the warts is the first step towards removing them. That's what examining our conscience is all about.

And whatever we have on our conscience, let's remember this season is all about renewal and revival - a great time to begin again. If Mr. Pat Barker could make the effort to make things right with his life, then so can we. Read his story here for a dose of inspiration.




An examination of conscience




Oo-la-la lunch

I don't know if a meal for two qualifies as a party, but lunch today with the Tough Love Goddess certainly felt like one. After all, it was Easter Monday, she's the first guest I've had over at my new place, and we haven't seen each in other in a few months. All very good reasons to open a bottle of wine and celebrate.

While waiting for egg noodles to cook, we started off with some appies: multigrain toast points spread with goat cheese and oven-roasted tomatoes, and a dish of sundried olives.

The main course was honey mustard chicken with egg noodles and fennel, accompanied by a 2008 Siegerrebe from Domaine de Chaberton.

What do you serve the Sugar Police for dessert?
A bowl of fresh strawberries,
drizzled with just a tiny bit of white balsamic vinegar syrup.

The goddess looks pleased. I think lunch was a success!




Oo-la-la lunch