Tasting Menu 1

Got a chance to "play" with food at C+C's first official food tasting/photo shoot/kitchen test this past Sunday - I think all of us are looking at future careers as food stylists, hehe. Photos by the great George Cabig to follow.

Tasting Menu for Aianne and Chon
3 September 2006

Miniature Chicken Pot Pie or Shepherd's Pie

Penne in Vodka Tomato Cream

Pistachio Crusted Salmon Fillet with Sweet Corn and Red Pepper Salsa
Garlic Olive Oil Mashed Potatoes

Roasted Chicken with Onion Bread, Italian Sausage, and Apple Stuffing

Vanilla Ice Cream and Chocolate Biscuits

Pot de Creme et Chocolat

Cooking for Two

I can cook for two hundred, no problem; or for two dozen with one hand tied behind my back. But for two? Hmmm, hang on one sec.

A friend I recently had over for a hastily nuked dinner at Miles' place, where I'm "house-sitting," asked what I cook when I'm alone. Good question; my reply - nothing. When I'm on my lonesome, I'd rather buy food than cook it myself; which is logical because I don't really enjoy eating what I cook, no matter how good other people might say it is. And I don't really feel like exerting all that effort just to feed myself, so I avidly patronize neighborhood carinderia and other take-out fastfood places.

The one time I really cooked for myself was out of austerity during my student days in Paris, and also as a matter of survival: I couldn't live more than a couple of days without rice! So, to save me time, euros, and from the misery of rice deprivation, I used to cook a whole batch of kanin and ulam at one time, only to freeze it 'til needed (which was like, every day). Unfortunately, one of the major items on my cooking list was adobo, and, no matter how I tried to drive out the pungent smell of frying garlic and vinegar-soy, I always knew that rooms adjacent to my chambre du bonne , not to mention the innocent pedestrians traversing the length of Rue du Chateau were "assaulted" by the sensory stimulations brought about by my cooking. But I suppose that because I had Italian/ Mediterranean neighbors, they had no complaints. And, unfortunately, neither did the two guys who eventually became my roomies when I moved to Justin's - my week's supply of adobo was David and Hunter's pre-midnight snack.

But anyway. I don't really know how to cook for one person, good luck with two - but at this point I know I need to learn. I've been so used to feeding the multitudes that I've begun to miss out on those opportunities to share a meal with just one other human being. Not quite used to scaling down for two - I've always taken the lazy path and just gone out for a shared meal.

So this week I started cooking for two - it was amusing to use less than 1/2 kilo meat in a dish or to experience how fast the preps can go when in the hands of a trained "master." Actually, I've only still been cooking for one - I don't eat regular meals, but Antoine does, and this week I'm cooking for the both of us (he likes Pinoy soups). Good luck, Antoine, hehe...

The Story of C+C

Everyone who knows me already likewise knows how much I love to cook. It's a passion that's so much a part of my nature that, when Anak declared, as an exercise in focus, that we must "pick three things!" to do - and do well - with our lives, cooking was on top of that list. Even above travel, even above writing.

But the story of how this little catering gig came about is a little more complicated. I've always wanted to do something like this, whether in a restaurant or however else, but I've always imagined catering to be the way to go - it's less of a risk and more flexible than operating a dining establishment. Plus, I've always been deathly afraid of the so-called "five-year shelf life" that has afflicted many eateries now long gone. I'd even catered two major functions to get a feel for it - my sister's sorority-fraternity acquaintance party (150 very hungry UP med students and alumni) and the unforgettable banquet celebrating Mike G, Jinggay's, and my birthday at He Cares in July 2004. Just try cooking for 400 - spaghetti, fried chicken, lumpiang shanghai, hotdogs - BY YOURSELF. That was the first and - as I promised myself - last time I would ever cook through the night into the morning (not a wink of sleep!). But that was a wonderful experience to celebrate my first month at He Cares, as Father Steve (who celebrated the birthday Mass) reconnected with Kuya JD and began a beautiful partnership over my Honey Butter Chicken...

But anyway. I put that dream on the backburner for the time being, although I kept cooking. The birthday gig ushered me into a "career" as He Cares' unofficial kitchen-mistress...my "office" would thenceforth be the narrow Road 9 kitchen and later the bigger Alley 4 cooking area (anyone looking for me during feedings or other days I'm there knows exactly where to find me). Because KJD likes to wake up early Saturday morning to cook the kids' lunch, I'm usually designated to prep and marinate food for the children on Friday, and to prepare the volunteers' lunch. When I served at the Center on Road 9 on a daily basis, I also cooked lunch for up to 40 drop-in streetkids and the staff: creative cookery on a P200 budget!

Though my BC classes have eaten into my Saturday service as well, I still get stove duties whenever I'm in town (the full-time staff and regular volunteers like to say that you'll know Ate Honey is in Manila when they get to eat especially well on Saturdays, charot). And over-all food duties for special He Cares occasions such as the Foundation's upcoming 10th anniversary this Saturday, the 19th (we already handled the more intimate dinner for 40 during He Cares' actual 10th anniversary on August 10 - and very successfully, I should mention). Because my love language is not Words of Affirmation, I've always tried to brush off compliments on my cooking - but Ate Juwip was persistent in her suggestion that we put up a catering service. After all, she and Mike are exceptionally skilled in setting-up the physical arrangements, and we all have a big network of potential clients. Plus, we've gotten more than adequate experience in feeding the multitudes! And yet, every time she'd mention it (usually when I started setting up the volunteers' buffet), I'd say "sure, why not?" without actually seriously meaning it.

Until a couple of months ago, when seriously meaning it seemed not to be so bad an idea after all. Rico Mac, a friend outside He Cares, was turning 40, and his wife Grace needed help in organizing the party. Rhia, who's gotten to know my cooking over the 16 years we've been good friends, suggested that I do the catering...and Grace agreed. However, I went off to China for more than a week, Grace got panicky and hired our regular caterer, and I got to emcee Rico's party instead of cook for it. But the catering idea stuck. A personal catering service: not your run-of-the-mill food/service supplier that lacks personality, but something that really made a difference with the little, special details.

Lex loved the idea - he's always wanted a restaurant of his own, and heck, his OC'ness and discriminating tastes for high-end cuisine was more than enough to make him an integral part of the team. Judith, whose idea it was in the first place, was thrilled that it was finally beginning to materialize. And Mike, who we invited, on a whim and a hunch, to our first "official" meeting after Kuya Ben's surprise party on July 3, was more than happy to be part of the venture.

Jograd a.k.a. Johanna came into the picture a little while later, and proved to be a real asset because of her interpersonal skills (a.k.a. the most wholesome GRO in the entire metropolis!), and her own OC decorating tendencies. Dr. Neil and Rhia finally completed our new partnership - Neil and I have always wanted to coordinate parties, weddings, whatnot (heck, we coordinated his wedding way before coordinators were in mode) and Rhia provides the financial savvy to make this enterprise viable and rewarding, not to mention the financial backing, hehe...

And C+C? The name came to me a few thousand miles over Shanghai (where I never saw anything faintly resembling a lumpia). Why C+C? It's susceptible of multiple interpretations. Cornik and Cabernet - our Colors editorial meetings would be held over BYOB of Cabernet, and we turned out great work, even if we were paid in cornik. CC is what we Wandersluts like to call Lex...just watch To Wong Foo... and observe John Leguizamo's character very closely, hehe. But C+C really takes off from where most of us first encountered the living embodiment of Who we actually serve: at He Cares, where we found that Christ truly, really, honestly cares. Christ Cares. Christian Cuisine. Cool na Cool (according to Father Steve). This is what we really stand for. This is Who we really stand for.

And thus the story of C+C Personal Caterers Co. But it's only really just begun. :-)

C+C and a Change in Name

OK yes, after many months of neglect, this, in fact is turning into a culinary blog. Why deny one's destiny? Hehe. But C+C Personal Caterers is officially now up and at it, a dream made reality after much prayer, discernment, and planning. So far, it's only been 12 days since our official launch, but we've already catered five major functions (counting one test run pre-launch party and one pre-launch surprise Japanese dinner for 40!). So far, so very, very good - we've truly been blessed with the strength, wisdom, focus, and direction necessary for the gruelling task of feeding the multitudes :-) And thus the change in the blog's name. I shall be back to share more...

Sugar and Spice

It was the Castenares twins 11th birthday last Friday, so I had a handful of lunchmates for the day - eight, to be exact. Good thing that all of us managed to fit into my car (which seems to be shrinking a little more every day)!

They'd actually invited us to their birthday photo session at Circle C, but plans had to be quickly readjusted because well, people are people and life is life and sometimes the snow comes down in June... We ended up on an impromptu trip to the UP Campus (lots of green, lots of sights to see, lots of cheap places to eat) instead.


First stop, the UP Church of the Holy Sacrifice, which fascinated everyone, and a little catechism lesson through a mini-tour of a Catholic church. Surprisingly, their favorite "part" of it all was the face-to-face encounter with Jesus in the Real Presence of the Blessed Sacrament - they listened, and allowed Him to speak into their young hearts. And He had something special to say to most of them.

And then of course, a snack that turned into quite a meal - although they'd eaten before we left, they were still hungry (bottomless stomachs!). To work it all off, I took them to the lagoon and amphitheater area behind Quezon Hall where they had their fill of trees and green grass and nature until, as girls (both big and small) are wont to do, they started to want more, more, and more (more food, more time spent, more food...) At least their intended photo session pushed through, courtesy of the normally photographically-challenged Ate Honey, and I must admit that I had a lot of fun taking their pictures. So much fun that, after taking them back to the Center, I had to lie down and recover from an afternoon of exhaustion before leaving for an out of town trip! Thankfully, I will (probably?) never be mother to eight kids, and thank God I only had to deal with little girls of sugar and spice and everything nice...

Meals On Wheels

Last night, I started writing an entry about yesterday's lunch encounter with the Lord, but a nocturnal friend called me out at 11 p.m. and put a halt to my journalling. That set off a chain reaction of events (late to bed, late to rise!) that effectively frustrated my plans to go to Quiapo this morning or even to attend noontime Mass in UP. After kicking myself several times for being such a flake, I eventually ended up having a very nice lunch today at the Center with the women of the He Cares family. But I'm getting too far ahead of myself.

Yesterday I thought I was going to have an uneventful "lunch" because I felt that the Spirit wasn't really leading me to anyone in particular. I had a quick meal at the UP Coop after Mass, and I didn't really feel like going into the Shopping Center but somehow found myself propelled in that direction. No Mang Lito, J-O-Y, Grace, or Renato around. I'd made it halfway through the SC when I felt like turning on my heel and going back the other way, when I saw the reason why I was brought into the SC in the first place: a law school classmate, all decked out in barong and looking very professional. We exchanged the usual small talk and updates, and when he started asking about my practice, I told him a very abbreviated version of the work I do nowadays and advised him to just buy last month's Marie Claire for more details. Anyway, it was funny to see him again - an old sorority ball date I liked to annoy by smoking too much and insisting that he learn to dance - and I thought that encountering him would be the highlight of my lunch hour.

So I headed back out to my car, and as I was walking towards it, someone sitting on one of the outside benches flashed me a toothless grin. "Kain tayo, Ate?" The magic words. It was the boy who'd "watched" my car earlier at the Chapel. And of course I gladly obliged - I was going to have "lunch with the Lord" after all - and ended up sharing a table with 15-year old Mark ("pero may kasama po ako...") and his 12-year old friend MacMac. Mark turned out to be the younger brother of my regular car-watcher Marvin, who was recently clubbed over the head with a lead pipe and had to get stitches. Marvin lives in a tricycle (go figure)in Balara but Mark sleeps in their little shanty - their mother lives all the way in Pasay. MacMac, who, for a very small boy had the BO of a 6 foot 250-pound man, is the eldest of three boys - they recently lost their mother. His dad used to work as a golf caddy but is now unemployed - but he promised to send his son back to school as soon as he finds a job. MacMac was barefoot...he lost his slippers outside his house; I taught him an old streetkid's trick of using your slippers as a pillow so you don't lose them, and then went out to buy him a new pair (my extra pair of slippers I always carry in the car were much big for him, so you can imagine what a small 12-year old he is!).

Today, I'd planned to do the supermarket donation rounds with Kuya Joe Dean, but, as I found out over lunch, Judith needed me to accompany her to look for and invite several streetkids to a special event this Sunday. We took along several Christmas cookies, which the little ones enjoyed very much, and, at one of our stops, met a man living in his pushcart. His family was homeless because their house was burned down, but apparently he managed to send three of his kids to school nonetheless! Later this evening, loaded with several donated cakes, we continued our street ministry - first along NIA road where we chanced upon more homeless people eating a late dinner on the sidewalk (literally) and dropped off their dessert; next on Timog where a whole troupe of streetkids of various shapes and sizes shared two more cakes and promised to attend the Saturday feeding; and finally back to Quezon Avenue to deliver the last cake to the "pushcart family." They were all smiles, genuinely happy in the moment even under such sordid circumstances, and still a family struggling and doing their best to stay together and better their children despite adversity. I'm certain we'll be sharing more meals with this little family - whom God so very gently holds in the palm of His hand - in the days to come.

I'm tired tonight after such a long day (a long couple of days!). But, as Judith and I agreed on our way home at almost 11 p.m., we don't really mind (sometimes we don't even notice!) when we have to "work overtime." In fact, even after office hours, we still keep looking for "work"! Then again, this kind of work isn't really work after all. Plus, our Boss gives the best bonuses and a retirement plan that's out of this world. :-)

Lunch With The Lord...The Real Deal

This blog really shouldn't be about cooking after all.

There are way too many food blogs that deal with that, and do a far better job at it. There must have been a good reason why I chose to call this journal "Lunch With The Lord," and, just last week, I found out what it was.

Whenever I'm in the throes of an emotional/spiritual crisis, I keep myself from drowning in the flood of my sorrows by ditching all else and hanging on tightly to the Lord. I run - or, more precisely, crawl - into His sheltering arms in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, where He never fails to gives comfort as He gives of Himself. A couple of weeks ago, at a particularly low point of a struggle that had me weakened to the point of total surrender, I allowed God to direct my entire day, beginning from the moment He hauled me out of bed and into the shower to prepare for noonday Mass.

In many of the spiritual talks I've given, I've spoken about the "point of total surrender" - that gloriously momentous occasion where (sometimes for lack of choice!) you finally allow God to take absolute control of your life and therefore lead you exactly where He wants you to go. It's the rare opportunity to witness exactly how His thoughts and ways are far above ours, and how breathtakingly awesome it is to experience His perfect will fulfilled in our lives. Unfortunately, He gives us back the reins soon thereafter and we somehow manage once more to wander off track - some further than others - until the next time He has to coax, pull, lasso, even tranquilize us, just to get us back on the straight and narrow. Well, this was one of those "points" - a necessary growing experience I would never trade for the world, but nonetheless a painful pruning I'd rather not go through too often!

Anyway, in times like these when even my wardrobe choices are dependent on Him, I just allow myself to be Divinely guided, and He's never led me astray. The Mass comforted me enough to feel hungry (always a good sign!) and, since I didn't have either breakfast or lunch and had no other plans for the day, I headed for the nearest place I could get a quick meal. The UP Shopping Center is an especially significant place in my conversion towards mission - I won't go into details because I've previously written about it here - so I shouldn't have been surprised to find God nudging (shoving?!) me further out "into the deep" in the same place. For lack of anything better to do, I'd planned to have my nails done after eating, but even in my raw and disheartened state, I noticed that there were more street urchins than usual at the SC. Much to my surprise, there was even an elderly man who begged money for rice. Without really thinking about it, I bought a couple of bags of cookies at the Coop, gave the old man a couple of packets, handed a couple of more to a few kids selling scoonchies and collecting used plastic bottles - nothing out of the ordinary for me; it's something I normally do. And then I sat down to lunch.

But I wasn't alone. The Lord, my invisible and constant Companion, was unusually talkative and insistent over the course of the meal, so much so that I could hardly eat properly while He pestered me.

"The old man wanted rice. So why in the world did you give him cookies?"
Good point, Lord.
"You're having lunch alone. Why didn't you invite him to eat with you?"
I can't do that! I don't have the courage to chat up a stranger. Besides, I'm almost done and my manicurist is waiting for me.
"What do you mean you can't? You've been feeding streetchildren and streetpeople all this time and you can't share a meal with this one old man? When He Cares goes on vacation, does your mission take a break as well? Will you trust Me to give you whatever 'courage' you think you lack? Are you happy with your 'normal,' comfort zone, non-committal routine of just giving out food without giving your time? Are your unpolished toes more important than his hunger?"
You don't know when to quit, don't you?
"You know I never do."
OK, I'll be brave for You just this once. After my pedicure, if he's still there...
"NOW."
OK, OK, here's the deal. If he's still out there when I walk past, I'm going to ask him to lunch. If not, well, better luck next time, Boss.
"Don't miss this opportunity."

And so, I stepped out in faith, returned to the benches where I'd last seen the old man, and was relieved to find five streetkids instead. So relieved that I gave them each some cookies, and headed back inside the SC towards the beauty parlor. And of course, because God has perfect comedic timing, the first person who crossed my path was...who else.

"Money to buy rice...para sa kanin..."
Itay, halika, kain tayo. The words were out of my mouth before I knew it. God said He would give me courage - I didn't know that it only took my simple act of surrender for it to come so easily!

And so he slowly hobbled on his cane to the tiny eatery I'd just had lunch at, and while he was at it, one of the child vendors I'd earlier given cookies to asked if she and her sister could come eat too. Another boy who was collecting soda cans excitedly said, "Ate, ako din!" and of course Ate soon had the whole troupe at the cramped restaurant, much to the initial dismay of the food servers.

"Pssst!" the waitresses instinctively chorused, to drive away the vagrants.
Kakain sila, I said, after which the ladies realized that these were in fact paying customers, and promptly took their orders.

In almost two years of ministering to the poor, I've found that, more than food, they need affirmation and acknowledgment that they too have dignity, that they too are worthy of time and attention. Their hunger for love and kind human contact is greater and more devastating than physical famine. It took a long time for me to learn this lesson from the Master and to actually put it into practice with the poor people I already know and love, but this was the very first time I actually had lunch with a needy stranger - four needy strangers! - outside of the He Cares mission. And this gave a whole new dimension to having lunch with the Lord. "I was a stranger, and you welcomed me..."

My He Cares "training" (once, when Father Steve called me a missionary, I had to correct him by saying I'm a missionary-in-training, because there is so much more I need to learn!) made it so very easy to relate to these new friends of mine - to ask the right questions and get them to open up, to be comfortable and not feel like charity cases, to accept the little expressions of love directed their way. During the course of this lunch with the Lord, Mang Lito told me that he was all alone in this world - his wife and three of his children had all died from strokes; he lived with his niece in the squatters' area of Luzon and commuted to UP daily to beg his daily keep...I don't see what much else he could do with his weak constitution and advanced age. He only had half a cup of rice and half an order of vegetables - doctor's advice; he doesn't eat much at night because of health reasons. My two packets of cookies were tucked into his breast pocket - he'd eat them later. He left a little earlier than the kids - and thanked me more than a few times with real gratitude in his eyes - and I saw the Lord within their depths.

Joy ("J-O-Y, Ate!") and Grace lost their father early in life; their mother scavenges and sells recyclable garbage for a living, and their grandmother has heart problems. Grace, the younger sister, ate her entire meal, but Joy, after a few bites of hers, asked to have it doggie-bagged to take home to Lola. After all, she said, she had the cookies I'd given her. They make two pesos for every ten-peso scoonchie they sell. Renato had two cups of rice because his binagoongan was a little too spicy - he lives in Balara and goes to school, just like Joy and Grace, making extra money from collecting and selling recyclables to junk shops. Just as he was finishing up his meal, I heard a chorus of little voices behind me - angels, I thought, or perhaps by some other miracle, my kids from He Cares - "si Ate!" And angels they were indeed as I turned to see the gaggle of street urchins I'd given cookies to earlier, all smiling at me from outside the restaurant. "You're too late for the meal," I grinned, but apparently they didn't care (although one of the boys helped Renato to finish his spicy lunch). I suppose that, just like me, they were happy enough to have made a new friend. Even the eatery's food servers seemed to have been converted in the matter of minutes these little ones of the Lord spent in the place - they watched and smiled and served and even encouraged the latecomers to come help polish off the meal.

Right before I went next door to the beauty parlor, the kids said their thank-you's and farewells. But J-O-Y hung around a little longer to ask my name, and when I'd be by again, and about the He Cares kids I'd told them about. And when she said her own thanks and goodbye, she took my hand - just like any of my kids in Project 6 would - and I felt the Lord's touch. He really knows what He's doing in our lives; if only we'd just let Him do it!

I had lunch with the Lord that day. Tomorrow is a rest day from He Cares work, but that doesn't mean that I won't encounter God anywhere else...maybe even over lunch again. What better way to spend an afternoon? What better way to spend one's life?