Philippines is in a lot of $h!+ and so is this blog!

What to do about it? Blog.

Coming this way on January 1. Hopefully a promise that will last until the last 31st.

Philippines is …

Oktoberfesting 2012

Dancing on chairs. Downing bottomless beer. Sightseeing limitless eye candies – Asians and Germans alike. German-counting 1, 2 and 3 (LOL, sorry, Filipino humor.)

Date: Yesterevening, 7-11pm
Place: Somewhere in Causeway Bay
Happiness level: Friggin’ high heavens

Never had this so much fun!

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Missing Pissing

These shrimps don’t piss anymore. But I miss them, nevertheless. (a dish at Satay King, one of the many dying breeds of affordable/reasonable restos in Hong Kong.)

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Avenue of HK Cartoon Stars

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It’s nice to see Kowloon Park does have nice things to offer every now and then.

This time, it’s the life size Hongkee cartoon characters that many locals here grew up with.

After getting out of the pool, saw them parked and posing for all to see. They even have their palm prints a la Avenue of the Stars.

This one I particularly like – the abs were just so telling. Yumm!

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Eating MDGs somewhere in Masai

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This, a part of Nairobi National Park, serves as the backdrop for the two-day meeting on the post-2015 Millenium Development Goals here in Masai.

It is a beautiful expanse of wildlife where I did chance upon not only baboons but gazelles, snakes, and hopefully tomorrow, giraffes.

I drank on Krest and Kenya’s version of ginger ale while mulling over the MDG meals that I have been chewing on for days now.

Waiting for dinner, I got to talk to a Masai man, whom I am guessing to be no more than 20 years old. He was working at the concierge of the lodge I was staying in and had been gracious ever since we met this morning.

I asked him if he did get to study. Yes, he answered back with a smile, but only until he was 12. I asked if he wanted to go back to school. He only responded with a smile.

I wondered now if MDGs actually reached this part of Kenya and if it did, were it on the menu? Or did it get lost in the safari?

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London calling

Soho. Anne Boleyn. G.A.Y. Cockfosters. Notting Hill. Pontoon Docks.

So much has happened the past days for me. The UK, in particular London, has been a great companion – despite the constant and Hyde-ish change in weather.

But twas a good six days – talking about students’ concerns at UEL’s Underground Bar, ranting about sell-out businessmen mouthing their “strong sense” of social responsibility and love for higher education (PUKE!), dating migrant worker friends who continue to organize amongst themselves, that fab Fab FAB night at Soho, walking Sam and finally, riding the hack.

Ah, I am a pearl and London is my oyster.

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Taxi-ing in Landan

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Have to see Big Ben and that nursery rhyme bridge.

But no taking the cab. Or I might just become a chav.

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Food Orgasms: Sugar-rushing with Frau’s Vicious Salted Caramel

ImageEntertaining was apparently the word used to describe my fit of sugar-rush at a friend’s house some nights past.

While I am not particularly a rowdy, raucous, annoying blabbermouth (at least, I try not to be anymore), I strongly believe that some drug was secretly and maliciously placed in the dish that I was eating that got me chattering viciously without commas or full-stops for a good hour or two.

That secret drug was in the salted caramel that accompanied the apple crumble. The salted caramel that looked like the Filipino’s famed latik (or sweetened coconut syrup poured on rice cakes) is undoubtedly some dieting person’s nightmare. For once it reaches your palate, this vicious salted caramel would bring your eyes rolling beyond the frontal and temporal lobes that they would attempt to reach.

It will give you a surge of the highest heavens that even recreational drugs have failed at violent times to reach. It smacks at grand schemes and opportunism because while it may look vapid and uninteresting, its taste can be likened to Medusa’s gaze that can turn your dreams of slimming down into salt, crushing them.

I should have subsided by now, crashing as one would have it. But there is no stopping the sudden rush and re-rush of memories brought about by such, albeit a tritely and disgustingly overused word, deliciousness.

To finally put a kaput to this food-orgasmic hysteria, I could only guess that it must be salt the maker used in the caramel. Which I heard came from the Dead Sea.

No wonder…. 

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The Attack of Hong Kong Bitch-Em-Brella-monsters!

Was supposed to blog about how bad and bitchy the Hong Kong streets can be on rainy days.

When umbrellas become weapons of mass destruction. When the locals become knights and carry em ‘brellas like lances. When it is not anymore raining or they are under some covered pavement and their parasols are still friggin’ open.

Until I saw this.

THIS!

And I couldn’t agree more.

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Food Orgasms (Level up): Poi’s Chicken Macaroni

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Somewhere in Hong Kong Island lives a family-caboodle of food lovers. They eat, cook and share food.

One of their best-sellers is this – chicken macaroni. And when I say chicken macaroni, I say CHICKEN MACARONI.

What’s with it?

Nothing. Nothing but extreme scrumptuousness that brings you to the highest levels of Olympus and probably beyond as every spoonful of this exquisite dish gives you a rolling of the eyes, a long utterance of hmmmmmm and a smackness (or what’s the word again?) of the cheeks that can only mean one thing – great satisfaction.

What’s in it?

Elbow macaroni. Meat shredded by hand from chicken boiled in broth of salt, pepper and probably onions. Onions. Cheese. Cold-cut ham. Raisins. Pineapple bits. Pickle. Carrots. Mayonnaise. Salt and pepper.

Filipinos make the best chicken macaroni salad. And Poi, the queen bee of the family-caboodle, owns a much-coveted slot in that high-echelon of expert chicken macaroni makers.

One time during Typhoon 10 here in Hong Kong, I braved winds, rains and a huge throng of people only to get that small pack of chicken macaroni salad in Central and share it with friends in the office.

And just like me, they all started singing hallelujiahs and praises with just even a small spoonful of that much-adored dish. Why only a small spoonful? Because I am selfish and that chicken macaroni should only be mine. 😛

Notes:

1) The photo gives great disservice to the dish. A much better one will replace it in due time. (Calling Poi…)

2) Reviews will be posted here soon.

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