I wish I could be there

May 13, 2013 by thehungrygiant

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It’s the day after Mother’s Day and as I’m writing this I’m hoping that the courier doesn’t screw up more than it already has. Mom hasn’t received her package yet and right now the timing (and the drama) is off. (Edit: the package arrived and apparently reduced mom to a puddle of tears. What was the gift? A simple handwritten letter)

The last time I was with the family was when I went home for the Easter holidays more than a month ago. Suffice to say I went a little crazy, baking almost everyday. The macarons I wrote about were one of the things I churned out (which reminds me, I’m tinkering with the next installment to that post!). To be honest I wasn’t all that keen to go home. I kept on thinking that I need to sensitize myself to the separation, as depressing as it sounds. But that week off turned out to be one of the best vacation weeks I’ve ever had, and by the time I had to be whisked off to the airport, I was a hot mess. I’ve never been that sad to leave home.

But to dwell on how much abuse my oven received makes things less morose. To think about how much I enjoyed making sans rival makes things a lot better.

I always though making sans rival was unattainable. But I always enjoy eating the layers of crunchy-chewy meringue, with buttercream sandwiched in between, all dressed in a rich velvet layer of more buttercream. That was before I went to school so basically I thought a lot of baked goods seemed impossible to make by my lonesome. That was then, this is now. And during the course of the week I was able to make five, a pretty awesome feat by my standards.

Right now I’m at a place where I can say that anything baked isn’t impossible to make. This one is no exception. Making it wasn’t a breeze of course – time and patience (things I feel I lack) are the key elements here. It’s one of those desserts that have components made separately and then put together to make one solid piece of goodness.

This is a nod to my mom, who is (a cheesy comparison coming up) really like sans rival. She’s a crowd favorite and everyone instantly likes her, she’s both sturdy and fragile (sometimes at the same time), and although on the outside she seems to be all butter, you’ll see that she’s made up of so much more than that. She’s never typical.

Last year when I was still home we had this silly moment together where her favorite song was playing on the radio and she just took my hand and whirled me around the kitchen. It was awkward, I was embarrassed, mortified…and strangely enough right now I wish I could do it all over again.

Coffee Buttercream Sans Rival

serves around 8

This recipe is good enough to make three rectangular sheets that could fit in a half-sheet tray (18 by 13 inches). I decided to pipe the meringue into rounds instead of rectangles, but I still used a sheet tray lined with a silicone mat that measures 11 5/8 by 16 ½ inches. Two rounds fit in the silicone mat so I worked in batches. Alternatively, you can also use cake pans, greased, lined with parchment, greased again, and floured.

180 grams clean egg whites
a pinch of cream of tartar
170 grams granulated sugar
10 grams all-purpose flour
50 grams granulated sugar (for the flour and nut mixture)
60 grams cashew nuts, processed/chopped into very small pieces
additional cashew nuts for decoration

Whip the egg whites and cream of tartar until soft peaks. Gradually add the sugar and whip until stiff.Combine the sugar, flour and nuts and fold it into the meringue, working in 3 additions. Use a piping bag to pipe the mixture onto the pan, using a spiral motion to create equal circles. Bake at 350 F/180 C for 30 – 45 minutes or until golden brown. Allow to cool at room temperature.

Coffee Buttercream

recipe adapted from Memories of Philippine Kitchens by Amy Besa and Romy Dorotan

7 egg yolks
¾ cup sugar
½ cup heavy cream
454 grams/1 pound unsalted butter at room temperature
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
6 tablespoons coffee powder (or more if a stronger flavor is desired)

Beat the yolks and sugar using an electric mixer fitted with a whisk attachment, until it becomes light and lemon-colored. Warm the heavy cream in a large saucepan, until bubbles appear around the sides. Whisk the heavy cream into the yolks and return it to the saucepan. Stir over low heat until thick, around 10 – 12 minutes. Be careful not to let it boil or else it will curdle. Remove from heat, transfer to a large bowl (or the bowl of an electric mixer) and let it cool.

You can whisk the buttercream by hand or use an electric mixer, with the paddle attachment. Either way, add the butter into the cooled custard bit by bit, beating the pieces in until completely absorbed before adding in the next. Add the vanilla extract. When all the butter has been incorporated and the mixture is smooth, you can set aside 1/3 of the buttercream, and mix in the coffee powder into the remaining 2/3. Set aside until ready to use.

Assemble: place one layer of meringue on a plate or cake board. Using a straight or offset spatula, spread an even but thin layer of buttercream on it, and top with the second layer. Repeat, then top with the third layer. Spread the buttercream on top, and along the sides. When the coating is generous and even, you can pipe decorative rosettes using the regular buttercream on top. If the surrounding temperature is a bit warm the buttercream might soften too much for you to achieve good, sturdy piping. At this point you can let the mixture rest in the fridge, or to speed up the process, place it in the freezer for a couple of minutes.

Coat the sides and sprinkle the top with the chopped cashew nuts. When coating the sides, get a handful of the chopped nuts and lightly pat the side making sure that the nuts stick to the buttercream. The excess will fall of and you can clean it up when you’re done decorating.

Place it in the refrigerator or freezer until ready to serve.

There’s a spring in my step

May 11, 2013 by thehungrygiant

All good things must come to an end. And this right here, this is the perfect photo finish. It’s funny that I marked my “revival” with an entry about beginnings. In the cycle of things, an ending is essentially a beginning in itself. We’ve all heard the adage.

I can still remember the first day of cooking school. Everything in between was filled with so much highs and lows, and of course, food. Now this is the part where I’m about to place a period in the sentence because my time in cooking school is almost over. Classes are done, and to cap off the baking part of the program, our comprehensive exam had us create four identical plated desserts, the dessert being a strawberry mille feuille. It has components that we’ve all learned, from the puff pastry, joconde sponge, mousseline cream, to the tempered chocolate.

The night before I was a hot mess. If there was a single component I was afraid of it was the cream. There’s a glaring difference between thick and thin and try as I might I always end up with thin cream when it’s supposed to be thick.

After stress eating (because I do that occasionally, when push comes to shove), saying a prayer at the local church and talking to my mom (she basically encouraged me to stress eat), the big day has arrived.

We had two hours and thirty minutes to complete the four plates, and with around ten minutes to spare I was done. Everything was so vivid, it played out like an action movie. I couldn’t have picked a better time to just shut up and do it, because I really did well if I do say so myself. Everything was all me.

We still have a major project coming up and then I’m off to do my internship (I’m crossing my fingers), but right now I’m just too happy. The partial proverbial weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

I had a conversation with one of my best friends last night. I’d like to believe we have a shared optimism when it comes to certain things in life. We both agree that it’s done in bad taste to make people wait. We also think that when you’re passionate, you could move mountains because relatively speaking, impossible is nothing.

It’s strange to think that four little pieces of dessert have gotten me so riled up but what the heck, I’m rolling with it.

This is where it begins

May 10, 2013 by thehungrygiant

Between this entry and the cliffhanger of a post about macarons, so much has happened. But let this post be my starting point. My new starting point, because early this year things just didn’t feel right… writing just didn’t feel right. Did I have nothing to write about? (refer to the first sentence in this paragraph) Of course not! In fact things have become richer, more exciting but I’m getting ahead of myself. Like I said, this is my starting point.

What this isn’t is an apology. I won’t apologize for going under the radar and allowing this space to gather dust. If you have ever felt like you’re trying to fit a square peg in a round hole then you’ll understand why I just couldn’t force it out of me to blog. Inspiration, I lacked. It may sound like bull but it’s true.

I’m not sure if I got this from an internet meme or if this was a passage from a book, but either way it rings true: “I’ don’t know where I’m going but at least I’m getting there”.

I found myself in a nice little resto that offers updated versions of Filipino food. Smokin’ Hot BarBQ is pretty cool, if how they treat turon is an indication. Two scoops of ice cream, one laced with jackfruit and one made from ube, rest in a brittle cone whose texture is like that of a crunchy brandy snap more than anything else. Serving it in a bamboo log is the icing on the proverbial cake.

But the highlight of the day was the company and not the turon. The speculoos cheesecake we had would have to be a close second, but this entry would have to be for the people I was with. I met Yedy and Eugene when we were at Foodgasm. Yedy was also a judge and Eugene was her plus-one. Being the innocent child I was, I asked if we could brave the crowd together as we sampled the food. One thing led to another and there I was almost a month later invited by two bloggers to try a speculoos cheesecake courtesy of Chef Mico Aspiras.

We were essentially going to photograph the cheesecake so we could write about it. I’ve never done something like that before. Being the one with the culinary background, I just had to wield the knife. It was the first time I witnessed just how mad food bloggers can be when it comes to food photography. I mean, like really really technical. Detail-oriented with a meticulous understanding of light and white balance, these guys worked with gumption. I was, in a way, amazed.

The conversations just kept flowing and from my end I felt that there was this sense of realization that things just clicked and made sense. We could be friends. What amazed me more was that I was talking to people who actually read my blog and have heard of me even before formal introductions! To add to that, both of them are food blogging powerhouses in their own right. But the latter I could care less about, because they’re just great people.

To cut to the chase, it’s been a few weeks since that fateful day and both of them have been constant weekend fixtures. It’s rare that I get to hit it off with people so quick, to laugh at the most shallow things (and people), and to share similar dreams that revolve around food, words and photos. The universe must be telling me something.

They’ve been encouraging me to go back to writing again because it just feels right for me to use this medium to put myself out there. More than anything else I’ll approach this staying true to who I am, because if there’s one thing I’m proud of, it’s my perspective.

Oh, and the speculoos cheesecake? Yedy and I found the chocolate good, but overpowering. Eugene enjoyed that part. As for the cheesecake itself, anointing it with speculoos was a brilliant idea, because everyone loves the little cookie that could. I’m not a fan of cheesecake, but what we had was pretty good.

And what/who I have right now? It’s even better.

Ahhhhh, good food.

March 13, 2013 by thehungrygiant

This is also an open letter to March, the month. What I want March to do is to dispense a few extra hours, even days – whatever it takes just to delay April’s arrival. The days seem too short for comfort, and as much as typing this surprises me, I just want to put it out there that I don’t want cooking school to end. I’m just having too much fun! Too much, it seems, that I’ve been lounging under the radar for a while now.

A change of pace is great. One of the perks of being a student is that once in a blue moon you get to go on a field trip! And how many people can say that their field trip itinerary involves eating at a really great fine dining restaurant? Like I said, I’m having too much fun.

So I’m just going to devote the rest of this space to the photos, and the little stories along the way because it’s already 1am and I have midterms in a few hours. But still, I’m here!

The Goose Station is tucked in a building and nestled in an area of Bonifacio that is more quiet, and doesn’t get a lot of action 24/7. In fact I would have had difficulty finding it if I went by my lonesome. It’s owned by the same chefs that run the school I go to and most of the staff are graduates of said school. I wouldn’t mind working at The Goose in the future, just so you know. (fingers crossed)

Now the butter. Then the bread. That’s a mini baguette.

For the snack we were served foie gras mousse in a flaky cone. It was followed by a lumpiang hubad served on a prawn cracker and a tuna tartare. I wish I could have had a second (and third) helping of the tartare, because it was delicious. It had a little kick of wasabi to it, which was simply perfect. I also keep on remembering how good the velvety foie was, served out of the box and in a nice cone.

I don’t have much to say about the roasted tomato soup with parmesan foam, except that it hit the spot really well. It’s nothing spectacular…it’s just really good simple soup.

The salad could be a meal in itself…and here lies its complexity. It’s made up of sweet potato sticks, little cubes of cured bagnet, watercress puree, salad greens, and drumroll…a piece of crisp chicken skin, a perfectly seared scallop AND an egg yolk that has been cooked sous vide (under a vacuum). Mix all of these components together – the smooth velvet liquid from the egg yolk, the crunch and salinity of the chicken skin and pork, the crisp taste of the greens and the juicy scallop… and you get a rich orchestra of flavors in your mouth. I was amazed.

At this point the main course was well worth the wait: we were served a chicken roulade stuffed with Italian sausage and pistachio, adobo jus, green beans, smoked onion and a squash puree. All the components made sense. A big shout out to the roulade itself, which was made with (and I hope I’m right) chicken thigh, which I hold in high regard. I was a happy camper.

To cap off our lunch, from Gourmandise patisserie, eclairs and spiked chocolate truffles. I made a mess with the truffles, and my personal favorite among the eclairs was the salted caramel.

Here’s a parting shot of Gustare, which I didn’t expect to find just beside The Goose. It’s basically a low-profile food and pastry takeaway/commissary + kitchen lab, owned by Ginny Roces De Guzman the author of Bake Me A Cake, one of my favorite cookbooks. I didn’t get a chance to buy anything from the shop, but with products like santol bagoong…I’ll definitely be back.

In more ways than one.

22

February 8, 2013 by thehungrygiant

This week was my birthday week! I turned twenty-two a few days ago and that’s about it. I didn’t have my immediate family with me to celebrate my day but my friends both old and new helped me get by and redefine the word “celebrate”.

The night before my birthday we had dinner at one of the restaurants along the strip behind the nearby mall. It’s called Zoricho and it took us a while to understand that the specialty is actually chorizo, hence the name which is a play on the word. The chorizo sisig and the chorizo platter were the runaway favorites.

On the day itself I had classes to attend. We were dismissed late and my friends and I were hungry. In a spur of the moment decision we all decided to eat at the all-you-can-eat Korean buffet conveniently located on the 3rd floor of the building our school occupies. The name isn’t really memorable since it’s in Korean, but we will go back next week because the selections taste great, all for 299php. It’s one of those “I can’t stop thinking about it” moments.

The day after, we were in the kitchen making our products for the day. It was the day of the cinnamon raisin loaf, and coming home hungry, I decided to just eat it with salad greens tossed in olive oil, salt and pepper and honey. It’s unconventional by my standards, but unconventional is good. Really good.

When I was in high school our Literature teacher made us memorize and recite a poem just for the heck of it. She gave me “When I was one-and-twenty” by A.E. Housman. I’ve never forgotten it since:

When I was one-and-twenty
I heard a wise man say,
‘Give crowns and pounds and guineas
But not your heart away;

Give pearls away and rubies
But keep your fancy free.’
But I was one-and-twenty,
No use to talk to me.

When I was one-and-twenty
I heard him say again,
‘The heart out of the bosom
Was never given in vain;
‘Tis paid with sighs a plenty
And sold for endless rue.’
And I am two-and-twenty,
And oh, ‘tis true, ‘tis true.

The last few lines of the third stanza hit me hard, and not just because I’m already twenty-two. It’s merely a number. I’d like to measure my age differently. I’m no poet, but experience is so valuable. We may think we know the world, we may do things we might regret, we may fall in love and get hurt, and we may be riddled with scars and bruises…but we learn, we grow, and we transform. That’s the place I’m in right now.

Have a great weekend everyone!

For the love of bread

January 28, 2013 by thehungrygiant

When will we ever feel that we have so much time to spare, that days are long and years are infinite? Here I am, and here we are towards the end of January. I sometimes find myself waking up and looking at the ceiling…amazed that I just blinked and two weeks have already passed. I think I’m pretty lucky to be where I am right now with school that I’m glad that so far, time has been well spent. Really well spent.

And dare I say it, I think I might have fallen in love with this new “chore” that we have to do: artisan bread making. We’ve already made a few breads to be proud of. When I’m thinking about making bread again, I feel all giddy inside. The process amazes me. There’s so much science and precision that goes into the process of transforming flour, water, yeast, and salt into a myriad of baked goods. It’s an alchemy that also involves so much art and intuition. There’s nothing like it in the world – baking bread by hand.

It’s strange that a few sessions in bread making has opened me up like this. I’m beginning to see bread with brand new eyes – it’s clearer, more beautiful. And when it’s all hot, crusty and fresh from the oven, dipping a slice in really good olive oil is an incredible revelation. I can eat it all day, in the same way that I have no qualms of baking bread all day.

Bread has made me all warm and fuzzy inside. It’s great to know I have a soul.

These are the beauties (a batard and two baguettes) that I baked last week. Let’s just ogle at them for a bit. Excuse me while I quell my hunger.

First feast

January 1, 2013 by thehungrygiant

Now it can be told: my days whizz by when I’m in the kitchen. I mean, I could kind of remember the sun hitting my face when I opened my eyes and I found myself on the early morning flight back home. Then…everything was a blur. There were good snippets of course: hosting a dinner for my friends, two charity events with the same people, Christmas lunch, and the micro-feast we had this morning. In between these events I was cooking up a storm, making sure time was blurred. In a few days I’ll be back in Manila and I hope I can make the most of the borrowed time.

A neighbor died today, January 1st. I’d like to believe he died a happy 79-year old man. “Life is too short”, his wife told us when we visited. Amen. We might as well enjoy the ride.

In the thick of things I found myself hitting the stress button more than once this morning when a few things didn’t go my way. But all was well, and I still couldn’t believe I put together almost all of what was on the table. Yay me.

The spread:

Now I would consider this paella pretty fancy – with the arborio and saffron. But I still crave the one my Mama Eng usually makes with regular rice and malagkit/sticky rice, with that nice color that only cheap atsuete can give! Recipe here. For two years now we’ve had paella for New Year. Not too shabby!

Chicken Galantina

homemade ham - recipe here

The ribs look glorious if I do say so myself.

Not all the meals I’ll have this year will be grand (I might even skip a meal or two). But I intend to enjoy this year in the company of good people and even better conversations. Let’s put ourselves out there! Happy New Year everyone.

The 2012 that was

December 31, 2012 by thehungrygiant

Just like last year, WordPress has been pretty generous in compiling and summarizing the stats The Hungry Giant accumulated this year. It’s been a generous, food-centric year for me. From their point of view, here it is:

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

About 55,000 tourists visit Liechtenstein every year. This blog was viewed about 170,000 times in 2012. If it were Liechtenstein, it would take about 3 years for that many people to see it. Your blog had more visits than a small country in Europe!

Click here to see the complete report.

Now from my end, I never imagined this blog would have so many highs in one year:

I was featured on Freshly Pressed, WP’s daily compilation of the best of the best wordpress blog posts around the world. My Chinese style crispy pork belly was a winner. At one point I was also did a salad demo on TV! That was before I really knew how to make a good salad but I just ran with it!

I cooked up a storm this year. Aside from the pork belly, my top 3 favorite recipe posts would have to be: red velvet cupcakes, homemade mayonnaise and of course, the ham that took 5 days to cure and 6 hours to braise! If you really know me, anything about pork, pork and more pork would still make the cut. The pork cutlets in a tomato peach marmalade sauce was good enough to be featured on DailyBuzz Food for one particular day, alongside the likes of Rasa Malaysia!

But more than anything else, 2012 was the year where life took me on a complete head spin.

I finally decided to take that leap of faith, move to Manila, and take up Culinary Arts. It was probably the best decision I’ve ever made. When I was still in a quandary on what my next step would be after graduating from college, I was invited by a Jesuit brother to one of those vocation sessions for young men. “What is that one career or thing you would gladly do, even if you were paid only a single peso?”, he asked me. “Cooking”, I told him after a second. That was probably the first time I acknowledged and faced that desire. And I’m glad I did. I can see myself growing (not in pounds of course) in the kitchen – I can do this for the rest of my life.

They said 2012 would be the year all shit goes down. Even if that isn’t true…a part of me did end. That person holding on to the idea that I can find a place in this world being a nurse eventually died. “Keep moving forward”, goes my favorite line from one of my favorite movies of all time, Meet The Robinsons. So it’s about moving forward, for accepting that certain dreams have to die to make room for bigger ones. It’s also about being brave in the face of uncertainty, because you’re the captain for your ship and no one else. It’s also about love, because there is no greater force that drives you to wait out storms and move mountains in the pursuit of happiness.

And because all of us are probably in a mad rush to welcome the New Year, a festive glass of Irish cream over ice and vanilla ice cream just works.

Happy New Year everyone! More feasts ahead!

Becoming

December 9, 2012 by thehungrygiant

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

I am a story of forks to be taken, of chances to be grabbed and of leaps of faith to be made. Sometimes I think about what my life could be if I stayed and went with the calm currents. It’s like Archie Andrews’ married life…and sometimes I wish I could take the backseat and become the reader, the third person to my life’s novela. But the striking difference between where I am and where Archie is right now is that he (well, the one who wrote him) has the liberty to go back and forth between a life with Betty or Veronica. The lucky bastard. I can’t have that, nor do I want it. Because if I can switch between lives as easy as I turn the lights on and off, then I wouldn’t really have something to live for…something to lose.

I had a moment last night that deserves to be immortalized in the hallowed space that is this relatively quiet blog. I’m scared to say that working side by side with chefs that I look up to has affirmed what I have been feeling all this time: that is was I was born to do. I’m going to handle this feeling with kid gloves then: this is where I am supposed to be, this is the path I’m supposed to take. I may not know where I’m going just yet, but I’m getting there.

I bought a book the other day, by Anita Lo (she demolished Mario Batali in Iron Chef America) entitled “Cooking Without Borders“. There was a line in her introduction that got to me. She wrote, “I was first what I ate, and became what I cook”. That’s my life verse right there.

And we’re off!

October 28, 2012 by thehungrygiant

That’s me pouring myself a glass of ice-cold coconut water after a nice early morning run. Idyllic, I know, but it comes with the perks of being home – everything can be so peachy. Finals ended a few days ago and I have one week to exhaust. That probably means I get to eat more, visit friends I haven’t seen in a while, eat some more, use the oven (!!!) and blog. This has been a long time coming.

True to form, the herbs have to be part of the updates.

There’s basil.

Basil.

And more basil.

Who put basil with the rosemary? That seriously wasn’t there two months ago.

The mint has been doing well, I guess. I broke off a rhizome last time for the good of propagation, and although it looks pretty fragile, I think this little one will survive.

The tarragon has never failed me. The dill – that which became a tree, is still pretty much the same. I can’t say the same for the celery though. Apparently that’s the only herb my mom uses, and after a few snips, it finally keeled over.

A few days before coming home I had a conversation with my mom and she asked me what I’d like for dinner (I took the late afternoon flight). Without any hesitation I told her “bihon!” (pancit/rice vermicelli), the way I know it’s supposed to taste. Then I followed it up by requesting estofado, something that I miss as well. These two are our party staples. When they are laid out on the table, it’s a special day. The pictures are for posterity; it was less elegant when I arrived the night before, but it was still a great meal. I ate like a boss.

The pancit has to be generous with the pork and chicken, with a savory quality that compels you to have seconds, thirds and fourths. The estofado (pork and chicken stewed in tomato sauce), needs to be fork tender. The sauce must be thick. Both are heavy, hearty dishes, but I just love to eat them together until my belly can’t take no more. Mama Eng (my aunt) never ever fails to impress.