Southern trip

I’ve been to the South lately, after a long, long time. It’s funny living in this small island of ours, and not being able to see certain places say, for 10 years, or even for a lifetime.

I still even have to go see Bantayan Island. The farthest I’ve gone north is Medellin town when 12 years ago I was invited by some friends to a fiesta there. It was one unforgettable experience - the one that stays etched in one’s mind, fresh even long after it happened.

I have no relatives in the North that I’m acquainted with. Although my Lola said they used to go to Carmen and get their share of the harvest from their grandfather’s hacienda there. But that was before the Second World War. Even if I bump to my relatives there, I won’t even recognize them.

I’ve always considered myself a Southern guy. I live in Minglanilla and my mother hails from Malabuyoc. My father traces his roots to Parian in the city though.

Years ago, when some of my friends suggested I consider buying some real property in Liloan, and settling there for good, I simply declined saying, "I’m a Southern guy. I’m not sure if I’d feel at home in the North."

So when I saw again the South recently, it was quite a nostalgic experience for me. I took a Ceres bus for Dumaguete City, and saw the Southern towns of Sibonga, Alcoy, Boljoon, and Oslob after some 10 years.

A lot of things have changed. For one, the road is pothole-free. That, and the aircon bus ride provide for a comfortable traveling experience.

The road traversed near the Southern coastline of Cebu. Various resorts dot the beaches along the road that you would want to get off the bus and frolic in the sea and stay in one of the cottages for the night.

I found most interesting the one near the Boljoon Church. I’ve always wanted to visit the Church, and the resort near it, is a good place to stay while one checks the town, its museum and its old religious artifacts for a day or two.

I arrived in Bato, Oslob by 9:30 a.m. after leaving Cebu City at around 6:00 a.m. I was in Bato some 20 years ago, also for a ferry ride to Dumaguete City. I got off the bus before boarding the ferryboat and suck in the fresh breeze from the sea. It was drizzling that Sunday morning. The sky was overcast and the sea was rough.

My city-weary bones felt relaxed. The South always gives me that stress-free feeling. It’s a perfect antidote to the city’s frenzied pace. For a brief moment there, I felt at home, my soul resting, basking in the serene beauty and calm of nature.

TRAVEL/CUISINE | Food trip

BY JD VELEZ

One can never guess where following one’s taste buds may lead. I’m often like a blind man led only by my nose and tongue as I follow the enticing aroma and delightful taste of food.

I stop being rational and analytical as my senses guide me, my defenses down while I succumb to the yearnings of my taste buds. The swell sensation of food takes over as I seek to savor its fulfilling, satisfying and delightful taste.

In Pasil for instance, I’ve waited with other nocturnal people from all walks of life at makeshift stalls beside the fish market at unholy time of 2:30 in the morning, fighting drowsiness just to eat. But come to think of it, it’s not just eating actually. It’s like being in communion with people from all walks of life – tourists, kargador, yuppies, DIs, newspapermen, ambulant vendors, GROs as we take a taste of linarang as only Pasil knows how to cook it. Exotic fish - with names I never heard before like tagutungan, pakul and rompi - swim in a bowl of soup filled with various spices.

In La Paz, Iloilo, I fought drunkenness with my friend Rey as we sought La Paz batchoy at 1:00 in the morning after a night of drinking at a military theme bar. It was worth the walk as La Paz batchoy made us sober down. I felt I just woke up from sleep after finishing my bowl, which was full to the brim with hot, spicy, steamy liver, chicharon, sliced hard-boiled egg, pancit and pork cuts. I’ve eaten batchoy after that one in Iloilo but they all pale in comparison except the one my friend Felix used to make near the Fuente rotunda.

I often remember a place not so much for the sights that I see which are often easy to forget and changes through time as well. Eating food is different as it is "interactive."

In Pangasinan, I went out of my way on foot as I sought for the famed Bunoan bangus. I wasn’t minding what dangers may lurk. Everybody understands great tasting food, I thought. I found what I was looking for and had one delightful breakfast eating the big, tasteful inun-unan or paksiw na Bangus as they call it. Their bangus is distinctive as it has a small pointed head and wide body and a peculiar rich taste compared to the bland Bangus we in the Visayas are used to.

Climbing Baguio City, I feasted on lettuce, corn cubs, carrots, cauliflower and other fresh vegetables and fruit preserves and ate at a place called Café by the Ruins which was an artists’ hang out. It’s a gastronomic delight being in Baguio, a real treat for herbivores. I love eating veggies so I had a real feast there.



Down south in Davao, I dared eat durian despite its strong, enthralling scent and what they say about it as an aphrodisiac. True enough, eating fresh, newly opened durian (not the preserves) fires up the senses and stirs the loins. Who wouldn’t want to eat looking at people seemingly consumed, intoxicated by the fruit’s magical scent as they gorge on the fruit by the roadside, laughing, enjoying the night away.

In Zamboanga City, I got more intoxicated with crustaceans’ fiesta of lobster, shrimps and mud crab in rich coconut milk and eaten inside a hut in the middle of a swamp, which is also a bird sanctuary for migratory birds. Getting there one has to drive thru winding, dusty dirt road. But it was worth the trip. Great tasting food is always worth the trip.

One doesn’t have to travel very far for some distinctive taste and a little adventure. In nearby Olango island, in the middle of the sea, a few meters from the coast, stands a restaurant on stilts where one can order fresh seafood held in captivity inside fishnets submerged under the restaurant. It’s an adventure getting there by pump boat from Lapulapu city near Hilton hotel.

Only through one’s senses, we savor life’s delightful tastes. I don’t mind giving in to food’s enticing pleasures. I can get so taken over. One time, I took a bite of sinfully, delicious rich black chocolate cake I ended up courting the woman who baked it and gaining a ticket to the greatest journey of all time: marriage.

LIFE/MUSIC | The Ambassadors' Gugmang Giatay

People never stop loving. You see people everywhere falling in love. It seems to be alone nowadays is suspect.

I have friends happy with their loves and friends too who just broke off, finding new loves, as well as friends who have no partners. Man’s heart (and a woman’s too) must be very busy these days. It must be the earth’s most frenzied activity this time of year. Or maybe, in just this part of earth, in this time of year. The summer heat may have something to do with it.

It mustn’t be unusual. Since who knows when, people have been falling in and out of love, desperately wooing, madly loving, painfully nursing hurts and I guess that will always be the case.

People recklessly love all the time. And it’s fun, don’t you think?

I mean, you can’t be serious. You have to learn to laugh at yourself, be ready not to take yourself too seriously at these things. Otherwise you’d find yourself hanging to dear life, or losing it, not waiting for the Grim Reaper to call it quits for you.

I’m no cynic. I simply think, before one enters into a relationship, one must ask one’s self first this: Am I happy alone? I’m afraid if you’re not, then you may have a hard time being happy with someone. But if you say yes, but would be happier with someone, then you’re on the right track.

Well, I’m not very good at these things either. So I hate sounding like Mr. Know-it-All but I guess I’m old enough to know these things. So there you go. I got an excuse for getting a year older next month.

But seriously, Loving is giving first, wanting your due, second. But one can’t give what one has, only what one is.

Just listen to the lyrics of this bonus track, Gugmang Giatay, from the Cebuano band, The Ambassador:

kung ikaw masayod / paminawon mo…/ kay kon pananglit / yam-iran mo / mga panumpa og / pasalig ko / og kon ugaling kalit / kang mobiya / di’ ko kapugngan / motu ang mga luha /
kay ikaw akong himaya / handumon ko matag karon / og unya / ikaw akong langit og yuta /
akong pinangga…ha…oh la… /

unya mihabol ang kangitngit / nga dinuyugan sa ulan / og sa kalit lang nahanaw /
ang bidlisiw sa adlaw, / oh…kahayag sa imong panagway / nga naulipon sa gugmang giatay /
inday paminawa kabos kong gugma / nga kanimo akong igasa / dili ko man mahatag ang tanang bahandi / ning kalibotan, apan inday / dungga intawon king’ naalaot / nga naulipon sa gugmang giatay, ohh… /

I would like to think every man seeks his missing rib, and every woman looks for the man from whom she sprung.

For a while, they may live in paradise of love and trust until one betrays the other and get thrown out of love’s garden of affirmation, appreciation and into the east of Eden’s dejection, loneliness.

Well, as my friend George (who sings "Gugmang giatay’ with gusto, abandon even with a Tagalog accent) said, quoting from a favorite poem, "only he who risks is free." He couldn’t be more right.

FOOD | Dining one May evening

From time to time, I have this habit of leaving the beaten path and going for a stroll or a ride either to muse or just feel the wind brush against my face. It was in this kind of mood that I went out of the office one Tuesday evening.

I felt hungry so I walked idly to look for a dining place. Finding none that interest me, I hailed a cab and found myself cruising around the city for a place to eat.

I knew what I was looking for – a quiet, dim-lighted, cozy restaurant where the music is cool and the food is not "life-threatening" meaning, less fat, more on veggies and sea foods. I’m thinking of fine dining ambience but hopefully, one that’s not going to rob me of my money.

I passed by fast food joints but wasn’t in the mood that evening for deep-fried food and the usual noisy, impersonal service we have been accustomed to in a rush to fill an empty stomach.

So I moved on, remembering a place my friend Dodong mentioned to me once. The streets in the city’s uptown district were deserted when in fact it was still nine o’clock. The wind-blown trees that lined the streets looked forlorn, as there were fewer cars and people. The city was without its usual hustle and bustle.

I found myself at the back of Cebu Doctors’ Hospital. I got off the cab in front of Aikasarrap. I’ve been on a look-out for excellent restaurant, pizza parlors, and cafes which have artistic interiors and serve great-tasting food at affordable prices. Aikassarap promises to be one.

I went inside and was greeted by softly lighted interiors. There were no white lights; only indirect yellow lighting illuminated the place. The walls and ceiling were in warm earth tones.

For the furniture there’s a choice of wrought iron chairs with marble-topped tables and cozy, cushioned sofa benches. I prefer the heavy wrought iron chairs with their rough finish that gave them character. They’re heavy so they stay in place providing a comfortable seating experience.

The floor looked worn though it certainly was of new tiles made to look distressed to give the place a sense of history. Some antique pieces provide accent to the rustic ambience of the place together with some books placed on a wooden sideboard.

The place is small but one doesn’t feel like it’s cramped with the help of a wide mirror on one side of the room running almost the full length of the wall. That and the glass façade at the entrance extend one’s view beyond the opaque proximate obstructions.

Soft, soothing country music wafting through the air completes the warm, rustic feel of the place. The cozy, homey ambiance lulled me. For the city weary dweller, the place is a good antidote to the noisy, techie sophistication and rush of day-to-day life. There are books and magazines to entertain oneself while waiting for the food to arrive. I saw Bloom’s The Closing of the American Mind together with some popular suspense novels.

I approached the counter at the other end of the room and ordered food. There are no waiters. I asked for steamed vegetables made up of beans, carrots, cauliflower and potato sauteed with butter; coupled with curried seafood made up of shrimps, squid, and some veggies and spices like beans, mushroom, cauliflower, red and green bell peppers. All these were served with rice on a thick black heavy plate. The silver that went with the plate were sturdy and sparkling. These were delivered to my table after roughly seven minutes. Together with the root beer, I paid a little more than a hundred pesos for the food.

The veggies were apparently not overcooked as they’re still crunchy and juicy. The butter gives the needed enhancing taste to match the blandness of the veggies aside from leaving a pleasant taste in the mouth. Curry mixed with veggies and other spices gave the seafood an exotic taste one can savor.

A glass of white wine would have been perfect to cap the sumptuous dinner. But they don't have any wines yet. There's beer, which I don’t like to drink after dinner, for it tends to make me feel bloated. I settled for a glass of root beer instead.

There were other customers inside the restaurant, mostly students and professionals in either colored scrub suits or white medical uniforms. They’re not a noisy lot so I didn’t feel distracted by their presence. The place is perfect for conversation and when enjoying a hearty meal.
It's the kind of place that allows one to think and listen deeply to the inner stirrings of the soul or that of your companion.

It was pouring buckets of rain when I went out. I forgot to bring along my coat and would have been drenched had not a cab arrived just on time. But I was thinking, who cares if I get wet?

I was feeling oblivious to the concrete edifices of the city, I looked up and there was only rain and the treetops swaying, welcoming summer’s end and the onset of the rainy season. I would have walked in the heavy downpour and be in touch with mother nature, but I remember, I needed to go back to the office.

It’s back to the beaten path.

FOOD | Postmodern pizza

One can’t always leave the drudgery of office life but we can always take a break, loosen up, laugh with colleagues, and get to eat together the food we crave. So one rainy afternoon a few friends and I thought it would be a wise idea to order from a pizza parlor and have it delivered to the office.

THE FOOD
We swarmed the box of Shawarma pizza from Da Vinci as it arrived, and each took a slice. It’s not like anything most of us have tasted before. It looked strange at first, for some of us, but inviting enough to make our mouths water. It is shaped like a pizza: round and sliced into triangular shapes. But it’s everything a pizza is not.

Instead of the usual thin crust, chapatti, a round, flat unleavened bread is used. And as you put the pizza into your mouth, you bury your teeth into the succulent taste of tomatoes, onions, green bell peppers, cabbages, and beef in exotic white sauce instead of the usual red tomato sauce. Putting hot Tabasco on top further enhances the pizza’s taste.

It’s a perfect marriage of eastern and western tradition, very post-modern if there is such thing in food.

And in true postmodern spirit, here’s what the rest of the group had to say:
Mae: Lahi siya. Karon pa ko katilaw. It’s not your ordinary pizza.
Pyen: Reminds me of Dubai.
Josef: Lami siya. Mora siyag shawarma nga lapad.
Kristin: Mas lami seguro kong init gyod.

Intrigued by the pizza’s exotic taste, we decided to give Da Vinci pizza parlor in Central Perk a visit the following day.

THE CROWD
It was early evening when we went there, the sun having set earlier and dusk was starting to creep in. That evening was the first time after a long while that I came to visit the place.

It used to be full of young people drinking beer and had quite an unpleasant reputation due to the rumbles that often happened there. So I was surprised when it was an entirely different sight that we saw. Gone were the toughies. Instead, a decent crowd greeted us, mostly students and young urban professionals.

THE INTERIOR
Much can be said of Da Vinci’s interior. (Central Perk, the convenience store has shrunk to give way to the expanding pizza parlor.)

The place is very contemporary in appearance. In a different time we would consider what is modern as contemporary. But that is no longer so. Da Vinci pizza is post-modern.

We live in a time of “juxtaposed realities” with discarded worldviews leaving messy leftovers, not just in terms of their physical manifestations but also of a body of beliefs, values and principles.

In Da Vinci, there is no endorsed worldview, no whole to unify the various parts. It doesn’t pretend to be able to tie up and tidy everything into a cohesive unity.

Inside, our attention was drawn right away by the playful looking, low lying, round tables and chairs made of refreshingly white Gemelina wood. Overhanging them are industrial aluminum shaded lamps.

The counter design, with its arches was inspired by the leaning tower of Pisa, according to Milton Lee who designed it. Looking at it, I felt transported to a bygone era.

Standing right in the entrance to the kitchen is another industrial lamp he also designed. I like the place's eclectic feel.

Various elements in the parlor represent different worldviews, yet everything jelled, nothing seem obtrusive. It is proof perhaps that we have learned to inhabit such a complex reality ourselves. We left after finishing Perk's special, a red sauce pizza that could rival the exquisite taste of white sauce pizzas.

In a postmodern, postcolonial world, nothing is what it seems and the office can be the comfortable cave of one’s inauthentic existence, yet an afternoon with friends savoring a pizza of chappati topped with chopped cabbage, green bell peppers, tomatoes and onions in white sauce, is sure to make any bored bloke perk up with culinary satisfaction and soulful rejuvenation.