Market Manila

The Kid, Mrs MM and I are totally amused by this American television program called “Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader?” Besides the fact that some of the questions are completely American biased, like the first names of American Presidents, we seem to do reasonably well as couch contestants. So it was rather amusing that I found my 4th, 5th and 6th grade report cards and realized I wasn’t even a “smart” 5th grader! With grades averaging in the low to mid-80’s, otherwise labeled “Satisfactory,” I was probably ranked close to the middle of a class of say 35-40 students at a local Catholic school I attended for 3 years until my parents figured out it was a potentially disastrous choice… I told the Kid I found my report cards from this school were “Fathers” could whack you with a ruler if they wanted (new laws on child abuse were to take effect only 20 years later) and she was just dying to see my scores. I think impressionable young minds always look up to older role models, and often assume older folks did well in school… But the reality is I think grades in primary school are a poor predictor of eventual success in life…

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Lechon Sisig a la Marketman, finished off on a large sizzling cast iron “plate” on a charcoal fire. Yum. I did a post on sisig a few years ago, here, but was not impressed. Then a few months ago, I decided to try and make sisig from an already roasted, leftover lechon head, and THAT was an absolute hit. So last week, I decided to try it out again, hoping the first lechon sisig experiment wasn’t just a serendipitous fluke. And the twist this time was to finish it over the charcoal grill at the our lechonan in Cebu. I have been thinking of different lechon-based dishes, in anticipation of a lechon eyeball, if that pushes through, and things like lechon sisig, sinigang na lechon, carcar chicharon, several whole roasted lechons, paksiw na lechon and re-fried lechon are all on that tentative list of possible dishes…

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The purveyor at the Queen Victoria Market in Melbourne said they were “semi-dried tomatoes.” “Softer and plumper than sun-dried, with a rich deep tomato-ey flavor, accented with dried oregano and soaked in good olive oil.” I took one taste and have loved them ever since. I once worked on a project in Melbourne and for a year “commuted” between the Philippines and Australia approximately 3 weeks a month. I would leave on a Sunday evening, arrive early Monday morning and head straight to work; then leave Melbourne on a Thursday or Friday. Once a month, I stayed over a weekend and it was on those trips that I got to do my Saturday forays to Victoria market. Semi-dried tomatoes like these are used in salads, wraps, pastas, sandwiches, etc. and add a wonderful burst of flavor whenever you bit into one.

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Grilled liempo or pork belly has to be one of life’s simplest and finest food pleasures. We have this at home at least once a month. And last weekend at the beach, the “non-food focused weekend,” this was lunch one day, served with an eggplant salad. I have done posts on grilled liempo before, but I find that it satisfies every single time we have it… It’s a bid gross to think this, but now that I am much fatter than in my twenties, I suspect I would taste a lot better if I was thrown on a grill after a few hours marinating in good soy sauce, kalamansi and pepper… :)

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I rarely have buyer’s remorse. That sinking feeling that comes after you have purchased something, usually something a bit unusual and relatively pricey, and you suddenly wish you hadn’t… Sometimes, the regret turns into mild irritation, the kind that you hit yourself on the forehead with a fairly strong whack every single time you see the item in question. In this case, the items that continue to vex me are two authentic banettons for proofing baguettes, or the long loaves of French bread. The banettons are made of woven wicker and are lined with a natural thick linen, almost like burlap… My understanding is that these baskets help the bread rise better, while drying out the surface of the dough, to help crisp up the crust when it bakes.

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Now I know that I would survive on a South Pacific island abundant with breadfruit if my crew set me adrift a la Captain Bligh, though I would have to deal with the motion sickness bobbing about on the open seas first! Take a mature/ripe breadfruit, earlier post on it here, and throw it onto an open fire and wait for it to char black all over. After a few minutes, carefully cut into the breadfruit and eat its fleshy pulp steamed in its own juices…

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This is my grandfather’s passport from the 1950’s. With a matte, almost linen-like, khaki-colored cover and numbered by hand as “No. 3155.” It provides a fascinating glimpse into a bygone era of civilized travel. Forget computerized bar-coding, filament infused security paper, or even GPS tracking chips in the most modern, highly laminated and tamper proof travel documents. This old passport definitely had style, in the same way my Lolo used to go to court in cream colored linen suits…

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Visiting the Topkapi Palace, literally a stone’s throw from our hotel balcony in Istanbul, started off on a rather hesitant note. At the gates of the Palace, huge throngs of tourists from all over Turkey and around the world waited as tickets were purchased, guides and interpreters contracted, and lost children frantically sought. It was a scene from outside the gates of a Disney theme park during the summer months. And I guessed it would be a zoo inside the Palace… But as luck would have it, and the tourist Gods were definitely looking out for Marketman & Family, we entered the Palace grounds just after lunch and decided to head straight to the entrance to the Harem. Despite everything we heard and read that we should be prepared for a several hour wait for a pre-determined viewing time slot, it seems the Harem now closes for lunch and it is first come, first served basis rather than a ticketing process as all the guidebooks indicated. So we decided to line up and waited for 20 minutes for the empty harem booth to re-open. I was first in line and soon after I stood there, dozens if not hundreds of other tourists decided to line up behind me. This turned out to be a lucky move as we were among the first to enter the harem after the lunch break, and we motored past the entrance courtyard ahead of the crowds, and then we had quite literally an unaccompanied, unharried view of the entire harem… almost as though we were on a private tour!

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