No one in my family—immediate or otherwise—is a chef, yet one common trend I see all of us having is our shared interest in cooking. My mom cooks a ton of things, my dad second in number of dishes in his repertoire, and my two brothers not minding breaking out the pots and pans every now and then. Speaking for myself, I’ve been handy in the kitchen since I was in middle school. While I did have it quite easy in the beginning because all I’ve done was to cook breakfast meats—sausages, spam, and eggs—they still were considerable challenges because it wasn’t all about drizzling a heated fan with fat and plopping the meats in. For the sausages, I’ve to use a knife to make small slits so even the insides cook (I remember the first time I didn’t do it—the outsides were charred but when you bite in the sausage, the insides were so cold it was just disgusting to even attempt to recook), slice up the spam from the can (and the can wasn’t exactly easy to deal with either), and finally, the whole mess of having to crack open the eggs and making sure you don’t break up the yolk as you firm up the whites. Small feats for the more experienced cook (moreso a chef), but for a kid like me back then, they’re a big deal.
Eventually I got tired of the same thing—perhaps I got tired of the fact it’s only during breakfast that I get to eat my own cooking—I told myself I need to graduate to cooking an actual dish.
My mom helped me out. She was cooking pasta one day and basically asked me if I can finish up the sauce after browning the meat (it was bolognese, a meat-based sauce with celery and carrots), and I didn’t have problems picking up the wooden spoon and emptying two cans of crushed tomato and seasoning with sugar, pepper, salt, italian seasoning, and a handful of basil.
This continued for a while—I’d come in halfway through the cooking process—until she finally thought I was ready to take the reins. Ingredients were easy to come by and didn’t require so much in terms of prep: You can buy the beef ground up, and there’s the personal processor to chop the onions, garlic, and the vegetables. (Although I must say this: Any cook who refuses to chop their own onions is not a cook. You have to cry. No exceptions.) It was a matter of being patient with the entire thing: The onions and garlic have to release their aromas first before going on, the beef has to brown evenly, and the vegetables have be cooked just slightly so they don’t disintegrate to mush.
Pretty soon, after a few not-so-successful tries (and I only say this because it wasn’t as tasty or well-spieced as I thought the sauce would be) I was conquering the realm of pasta sauces.
My dad came in next. He does a mean pot of upgraded pork & beans. His signature dish required more patience from me: The beans can become mush or crunchy if they’re not cooked properly, I’ve to slice more things like chorizo, chicken, andouille sausage, plus of course garlic and onions; but at this point, I was used to the discipline of “cooking things through”—true with pretty much all tomato-based dishes—that I picked up on the procedure after the first try.
Finally—and I remember when I did this: The Friday before the week that I’d start a new job—I told myself I’d have to cook my own. My recipe? Rachael Ray’s Country French Chicken. (Recipe
here.) I’ve seen this episode a number of times on FoodTV, and I’ve always thought of it to be quite easy. One thing I was looking forward to is the use of red wine to flavor the dish. So off I went to the grocery, bought the ingredients—they were all easy to come by, even the creminis—and started with the process.
For some reason, I didn’t season as much as I should have, thus the finished product turned out bland, but because I salted the egg noodles and used salted butter to flavor them, things fortunately balanced quite well in the end. My dad seemed to like it when he tried the same thing that same night, commenting about the need for more salt and pepper in the chicken itself. I made a mental note to myself that if it’s chicken or a nice piece of steak that I should season generously.
It took me two more tries to perfect Country French Chicken, mainly because like Ms. Ray, I eyeball seasonings. (Actually, I picked up the habit from her, so....)
That one dish jump-started my still-growing plethora of recipes that I can whip when necessary. Matter of fact, I have enough that I’ll have something new to eat every day for three weeks:
PastaCountry French Chicken
Bacon Mac & Cheese
Bolognese
Basic Spaghetti and Meatballs
Carbonara
Lasagna
Pad Thai
Beef Stroganoff
Shrimp with Feta
Penne della Terra
Seafood Alfredo
Puttanesca
Rice toppingsSesame Chicken
Mongolian-style Chicken & Crab
Cajun Jambalaya
Chicken Curry
Thai Beef Curry
Sandwiches and wrapsAsian-style Chicken and Vegetables
Philly Cheesesteak (a big hit among my friends!)
Steak Sandwich with Mayo-Mustard Sauce
Croque-Monsieur (and Madame)
One-potsChili Tots
Beef Bourguignon
Shrimp and Scallop Gratin
My dad’s supercharged Pork & Beans
Among these 25, my personal favorite dish is the Beef Bourguignon. I’ve long salivated doing this French stew ever since I saw it advertised in the FoodTV.com website. Besides, doesn’t it sound so sexy?
For those whom I’ve prepared the Bourguignon to, know that you’re special to me because I’ve whipped up my signature.
Every now and then, I would buy a food magazine or two just to see if I can make something new. I used to just be fine with getting the recipe online, but I found out that I required to see a photograph of the dish before I’m enticed to actually try it out. That’s why cookbooks such as Nigella Lawson’s, Rocco di Spirito’s, and Tyler Florence’s appeal to me so much: They hire photographers and awesome food stylists to make sure each dish that makes it on the pages of their publication stand out and actually entice you to make them at home. I’m actually considering a subscription to the Food Network magazine just because I wholly support the network and its endeavors to make everyone try out cooking.
Now, do I have any interest in pursuing cooking professionally, i.e. train to be a chef? I sincerely doubt it, but I never thought of myself to cook for the satisfaction of others. Basically, I started making my own food for my own personal enjoyment. When friends and family compliment what I make, then that’s a very welcome extra.
So, when are you coming over to my house? I’ll be sure to have at least one day when we’ll not eat out, and I’ll have you try my food. I promise it’ll be good.
Image from thegutsygourmet.net
I always go back to this strip by Bill Watterson's Calvin and Hobbes. This was the strip that ran when the series ended many years ago. While it feels quite precious in the exchange between the two, the far more endearing aspect of this strip is its optimisim—and this is what everyone should have every single day of their lives. (In fact, my General Psychology final project ended with this same strip as a metaphor to how my life in college—essentially, my schooling life—is going to end with me looking forward to even greater and brighter things. And this, despite the fact I won't have the comfort—or safety blanket—of a new semester once summer was over.)
I love the The New Yorker magazine! The poster would make a great addition to the quirky things hanging on my wall. (There's something about the magazine's art that piques my interest.)
Whenever I receive my copy of GQ, I typically only get to read the fashion stories (and the repeating advice on fit, cut, and proportion) and everything in the Manual section. I always skip the celebrity cover story and skim through the feature stories. But this piece is one of those that just stood out. It's an engrossing piece on backpacking—and eating—your way through the French countryside. 
Yes, I read a lot of magazines (as of last count, I have 36 active subscriptions!); but one publication that's been getting a good deal of attention from me is Monocle. Edited by Tyler Brule, the former editor-in-chief of Wallpaper* Magazine, I liken the magazine to a smart man's Town and Country. The articles are all well-written (it is after all Mr. Brule who popularized Wallpaper for the articles), the layout is something I respond to, and it deals with none of the pop culture fluff that seems to have pervaded many dead trees on the racks nowadays. It doesn't take itself too seriously, offering the occasional fashion editorial every now and then, but regardless it's a good read from cover to cover. Monocle in the US is available at Barnes & Noble and Borders Books and CDs branches nationwide. $10 a copy; monthly; visit www.monocle.com
I don't have trouble sleeping, but lately I've been sleeping much later than usual (to the tune of 2AM...and I have to be up at 8AM for work!). I received a tin of Badger's Sleep Balm for feature in the magazine I work for, and I've been happily using it to help readjust my body clock to sleep at 12MN (or even earlier if I can). Its main ingredient is lavender, which, according to the book Aromatherapy, helps lull you to sleep without the side effects and the dependency that using commercial drugs might bring.
Easy, breezy summer style for guys. I would even argue that two layers (even though one of them is a tank) is a bit much for 85-degree days. But that's just me.
Whenever someone I know gets to a fight (or a disagreement) with their parents and confide with me how annoyed they are about how their parents are "immature about it," that is, the parents don't take the apology that their child gives too quickly, I tell them one of my most favorite canned responses: You have to understand, they never got the "How to be a Good Parent" handbook.
His aura is very cool—and he makes a very good point about mixing dressier elements (formal watch, tux jacket) with those that are casual (T-shirt, jeans, and belt).
Tux-style jacket (on sale at $120) from Topman.
I consider myself as a late adopter of technology. Never really was the type of guy that would salivate over the newest and latest gadgets the minute they're released—even though for most of my career, be it in the technical training, multimedia, even publishing, it requires some degree of knowing the trend in order to tell everyone else about it.
I have not forgotten about this blog. I've just been a little swamped with work. Or maybe it's because spring's almost here and I can't wait to head out and do stuff.
Now that the weather has slowly begun to warm (well, by 5 or so degrees...), expect more precipitation than snow in the coming weeks—making the months of February and March the perfect time to don a cool trench coat.
Number of active subscriptions: 33
Snapped this at a convenience store in the Philippines. Yeah, if you can't "garantee" that whoever wrote the copy of your product can spell the most important word in this 3-word phrase, then I don't think I'd feel "garanteed" that your knife's gonna be sharp. So, no thanks.
It might not make sense at first, but the first fashion rule applies here: Invest in classics you’ll wear forever. You can definitely spend on trendier pieces from designers, but how long will you be able to enjoy them? Two, 3 months the most? Not much mileage there, right?
Believe me, you might think it’s too small but more often than not, you’ll realize that it’s your true size. (If a size down is too tight then no worries, at least you tried.)
Sizing across designers and brands are never consistent. I’ll use myself as example: I’m S or XS at Gap and Old Navy, but I’m a medium in Zara and Topman. Regardless, #2 rule still applies—I thought I was an M at Old Navy, but found that size too baggy.
Black shoes and black belt (and black watch if you have one); brown shoes and brown belt (match the hue as closely as possible). When you’re wearing sneakers, or any other hue, feel free to relax—even break—this rule.
They wanna see a nice outline of our asses, guys.
Shave it, pluck it, wax it, laser it, thread it, do everything you can to get rid of it. Whenever I have it professionally done, I decline when they ask me if I want the rest of my brows fixed as well, because they always mess up. No unibrow: Good. Girly arched brows? No, thanks.
And there’s the added bonus of broadening your shoulders—a study shows that women look at a man’s shoulders to perceive how “strong” and in-control they are. So wouldn’t you want it?
Rounded, slightly elongated toe: Now you’re getting the idea.
I know I may be asking for too much—adding an extra hour or 2 to your trip to the mall, but really, having access to many brand names and designers taught me one thing: There’s always one that will completely impress one guy, but will disappoint the other. Once you find a clothesmaker that churns out things you always like, show some love—but don’t be exclusive, because there’s another one that will impress you equally.
Throw. Them. Out. I guarantee you’ll find a replacement for them in your next shopping trip.
