She Gathers No Moss

The Farm at San Benito: from fumes to fresh air

Posted on 20 November 2013 by sheg4184

“Today’s… choices affect your future health. Our bodies may be hardy, but recurring abuse leads to disease and illness. The good news is that it’s never too late to rejuvenate.”

So who has ever spent time at a health farm? If it is something you enjoy, let me recommend The Farm at San Benito. This heavenly spot, tucked away amongst lush, green, jungle-wrapped hills, is only a ninety minute drive from Makati. The grounds are picture perfect – as manicured as a tropical Disneyland – with peacocks, ducks and geese lazing around deep ponds and swimming pools, or meandering across thick green lawns. Walking paths wind past twenty four cottages and suites camouflaged behind trees and thick shrubbery, and venture into hidden nooks and crannies where you can relax and meditate beside quiet pools and man-made waterfalls. Over one thousand feet above sea level, The Farm is bordered by 50 acres of organic coconut plantation, and the climate is delicious after the oppressive humidity of the city.

Perversely, the idea of a health harm is one that has never inspired me. As girlfriends gather eagerly for a weekend retreat of detoxing and seaweed wraps, I am inclined to run for cover, and to my relief, they gave up inviting me long ago. I can’t explain why I am so averse to being pampered, but health farms seem to involve a lot of lying about, and I have never been very good at sitting still. I get twitchy and impatient, and my body and brain seem to combine forces to defy the notion of Rest and Relaxation. I instantly feel the urge to leap tall buildings in a single bound.

So I surprised myself when I recently accepted a very sweet invitation to join a friend and her daughter at The Farm. As a regular guest there, she told me firmly that she hates ‘day-trippers’ so I felt very honoured that she would allow me to visit just for an afternoon. Luckily she was not expecting to have me wrapped in seaweed or scrubbed with sea salt or rubbed with cocoa butter. Instead I would join them for lunch at the in-house restaurant, “Alive!”

Alive! feels like a tree house, light and spacious, overlooking the tree tops. The menu is vegan and mostly raw, and the philosophy is holistic – a new slant on the gourmand’s well known adage, “you are what you eat.” In the kitchens at The Farm, they create meals in the belief that body and mind will suffer from a diet based on processed food and genetically modified ingredients, but that raw food can provide a positive outlook on life as well as the health benefits of increased energy, clearer skin, improved appearance, and a stronger immune system.

The culinary creativity is mind-boggling to someone whose limited imagination had created a lunch consisting of birdseed and a bowl of nuts, lettuce and raw carrot. The set menu left me gob-smacked. Freshly made every day, the chefs use real magic to transform raw vegetables, nuts, seeds, fruits and flowers into indescribably tasty and beautifully presented meals. With a large portfolio of recipes and a vegetable garden only a stone’s throw from the kitchen door, the results include a five course set menu that changes daily. What is more, these experienced vegan chefs are quite happy to share a selection of their recipes in a beautiful cookbook: Raw.

‘Specially designed dehydrators… give raw foods a variety of textures resembling cooked foods, without destroying the nutritional properties and enzymes of the foods.’

Their attitude has won them numerous awards and many fans. And much to my delight, The Farm is realistic about such a diet, explaining that they do not recommend total abstinence from cooked food, but suggest 30% cooked, 70% raw, and their recipes follow suit.

So what did we eat?I guess you are dying to know.

We began with a Vegetable Napoleon that defies description, but introduced me to an entirely new concept in food preparation, and in which I was absolutely delighted. This was followed by a bright and refreshing tomato soup – cold and tangy – flavoured with my favourite galangal.

Next, a delectable Som Tam Salad that was low in calories and high in fibre, with the common Asian preference for combining sweet, sour, hot and salty in a zesty dish of green papaya and lime, chili, fish sauce and honey. I would have gone back for seconds if I had been invited.

A creamy coconut milk and vegetable curry served with potato crusted tofu and brown rice is a dish that will vary with the seasons. Wrapped in potato noodles and deep fried in olive oil, the tofu is a fascinating combination of firm tofu and crunchy potato.

The Bounty bar ice-cream, takes you into a different universe for desserts. Fresh coconut ice-cream topped with a thick layer of dark chocolate almost had me levitating with delight. My description cannot possibly do this menu justice. You will just have to try it yourself.

Various packages are offered to those not intimidated – like me – by the idea of a few days detoxing from the effects of the modern world amongst spas and beauty treatments, golf and yoga, wraps and rejuvenation. Explore their website, and I will meet you in the restaurant for dinner.

http://www.thefarmatsanbenito.com/

Then again, having looked at their website, maybe even I can be persuaded to drop in for a day or two…

*Adapted from an article I wrote for the ADBSA Newsflash, November 2013 issue, and with thanks to The Farm’s website for the photos… it was raining the day I went, so it wasn’t easy to take good snaps!

Posted in Food & Wine, Lifestyle, Philippines | Tagged Alive!, health farm, raw, The Farm | Comments Off

Dreaming of Tuscany…

Posted on 15 November 2013 by sheg4184

Italy: the land of art, architecture and ancient culture, poetry, pasta and wine; of long, lazy, summer lunches at rough wooden tables strewn with wine bottles and the detritus of a simple feast; of broad, shady terraces overlooking vine-draped hills speckled with rustic farmhouses and campanile, olive groves and terracotta roof tiles…

Last month, unable to realize that particular dream on the spur of the moment, I did the next best thing, and spent an evening in the company of a number of interesting Italian wines that have relocated to Manila with the assistance of entrepreneur Nick Lapthorne and his partner, Martino Feltrin.

Together Nick and Martino aredeveloping Arena Wines, importing a portfolio of fine Italian wines including the popular Barolo, Valpolicello, Pinot Grigio, and Moscato styles and the lesser known Sicilian, D’avolo Nero.

Before we went, I did a little preliminary research, and found the Arena Wines website. An arena is not only a sports venue, but a sphere of interest, activity, or knowledge and, as I am interested in the activity of drinking wine, and in knowing more about it, I felt I was in the right place.

Like the language of wine, the Arena website has floral overtones:

“Our goal is to spread the fruit of our tradition and the perfection achieved with innovation and commitment by producers who work with the passion of real artists…”

And it seems they hope to spread the gospel of St Vincent, Patron Saint of Wine, to the Filipinos in particular. As the demand for wine grows here in Manila, Arena Wine is striving to make its mark. Quickly realizing there was a gap in the market for Italian wines, Nick’s Italian partner Martino was charged with hand picking a selection of wines from his homeland. Notably a sweeter selection than might be chosen for Australian drinkers, Martino has created a substantial wine list to introduce Filipinos to the joy of Italian varieties, and “to promote the Italian wine culture and lifestyle,” with wines from six major wine making regions: Piedmont, Alto Adige, Fruili and the Veneto in the north, Tuscany in the centre, and Sicily on the southern tip.

The Arya Showroom was not easy to find in the onslaught of a tropical storm. The invitation suggested ‘The more wine lovers the merrier!’ and after several u-turns and wrong turns, and a visit to the McDonalds drive-thru, we eventually joined the gathering throng of courageous souls who figured free wine was worth the risk of a little wet shoe leather.

The company wine list runs to pages. Sadly, only fifteen wines were available for tasting, but that was probably enough for ne evening, and we tried them all, red, white, sweet and sparkling, with mixed responses. Like many Filipinos, I am unfamiliar with the nomenclature of Italian wines. Australia is slowly making a foray into Italian grape varieties – a sensible venture in my opinion, as the climate, particularly in the south, is so similar to that of Italy – and I am vaguely familiar with Chianti, Pinot Grigio and Valpolicella. I had never heard of many of the others: Ribollo Gialla, Barbera, Garganega and Grillo Parlante were all new to me. I certainly had no expectations of flavour, aroma, typicity or tanins I would be trying.

My amateur opinion has always been that Italian wine is not ‘stand alone’ wine like we make in Australia, but is designed to be drunk as a condiment, or seasoning, to enhance the flavours of the food, and inevitably it works best with a bowl of pasta and a lot of sunshine. So perhaps drinking it accompanied only by a deluge of tropical rain and a few olives was a little inappropriate! Nonetheless, we had fun checking out some interesting and unfamiliar wines.

I assiduously marked each wine I tasted, beginning with one variety I was already acquainted with. Nero d’Avola is indigenous to Sicily, but has recently migrated to the Adelaide Hills, where I was delighted to discover it earlier this year. Until recently, it has been a virtual stranger internationally, but with its sweet tannins and plummy flavour, it is becoming increasingly popular.

I wasn’t enamoured of every wine we tried – a couple, to be brutal, were like chewing on Band-Aids – but there were plenty of good ones to keep us all happy. An extra dry Prosecco from Treviso, just north of Venice, was a refreshing opener that I returned to once or twice, while my friends preferred the demi-sec. And there were some interesting styles from northern Italy that I was not surprised to discover, were more German than Italian, such as the spritzy and aromatic Gewürztraminer and the Swiss Müller Thurgau popular for making white wine in Germany, Austria and Northern Italy, both varieties preferring the cooler northern climate.

Having a personal penchant for a cold rosé on a summer afternoon, I was keen to try the award winning sparkling Filanda Rosé. Created by the women (mother and daughters) of the Bortolomiol Winery in the Veneto, near Treviso, they have dedicated this wine to the local women who worked in the silk mills. Described as ‘a homage from women to women, proudly pink with a splendid mousse,’ it is a little sweet for me, but served icy cold for a summer lunch, it would be perfectly lovely.

Then there was a Tuscan winery called Poliziano, of whose reds we tasted a young, fruity, full-bodied Rosso de Montepulciano DOC 2011 that probably needs translation, but you won’t get one from me! European wines have always had an elitist language all their own, that makes no sense to the uninitiated. When I have lived my dream and spent a year in Tuscany, I’ll get back to you.

In the meantime, I have a few more Italian wines to explore….

*With thanks to Google images for the photos

Posted in Food & Wine, Italy, Philippines | Tagged Arena Wines, Italian wines | 1 Comment

Looking for Greener Pastures

Posted on 9 November 2013 by sheg4184

Robby Goco has a magic touch when it comes to restaurants: owner and Head Chef of Cyma (eight outlets across the Philippines); Charlie’s Grind & Grill; Achiote, and now, his latest venture, Green Pastures.

Green Pastures opened in September, in the new East Wing of the Shangri-La Plaza, Ortigas. Farm-to-fork (paddock-to-plate in my lingo), back-to-basics, organic, and locally sourced ingredients, Goco has covered all the latest trends in dining, a backlash against all the sophisticated but expensive dining trends of recent years .

Its name is a lovely play on the idiom, “greener pastures,” – a hint that Goco has moved on to create a restaurant where we can eat healthier food than is found in the average Filipino restaurant. It is not Robby’s first attempt to follow a trend for organic cuisine. Of his restaurant Cyma, Goco once said: “Good, natural, healthy food is a right to be enjoyed. It is not a privilege for just a few lucky ones, “ and this quote applies equally well to Green Pastures.

And it’s certainly not an original concept, even in the Philippines. Grace Park in Rockwell, Sau del Rosario’s short-lived Bistro Vert and Sugar Leaf on Buendia are amongst a number of restaurants with a growing awareness of the need for healthier, environmentally friendly dining, but this doesn’t detract from the fact that Goco has jumped on the back of a current trend and has made a great job of it.

I found Green Pastures in the bright, light, new East wing of the Shang Plaza in Ortigas, only a week after it had opened, and Robby was off to a flying start – I was just glad I had thought to book a table! Accompanied by two girlfriends, we were greeted at the entrance by Betty Sue and Mary Kate in plaid shirts, jeans and braids like characters from Petticoat Junction or The Waltons. It’s all terribly twee, as my grandfather would say, but the food is well worth braving a little kitsch for. Also, the décor – booths by the window, intimate wooden tables with and brightly coloured metal chairs, if not exactly rustic, creates a warm, inviting atmosphere. And the smiles on the waiters’ faces seem genuine.

The menu is an odd but tempting mix of Pinoy and international dishes, many of which are vegetarian. In fact, we lunched entirely without meat, and it was all delicious. Robby has cleverly catered to everyone’s favourite tastes: carbonara and braised suckling pig; fish and chips and bangus sardines; fiddlehead ferns and Mykonos salad, and a spaghetti with crab meat and sea urchin sauce – a dish that every previous reviewer has been racing to sample, so I will leave it to them!

Sticking with the ‘down home’ theme, many dishes are served on wooden boards, while flavoured butters, mustards and mayos arrive in small tin tubs, a la Grace Park.

We began with a delicious bowl of minestrone just like my father-in-law makes (and he is the connoisseur of minestrone). Flavourful and fresh, the vegetables were still al dente, and my only complaint is that the broad shallow bowl in which it was served looked effective, but cooled the soup too fast! I guess that is probably not something Filipinos would complain about, but I prefer blistering hot soup!

The next course was a little staggered – I do prefer it when we can all be served together, but I always forget to say it when we order – but the Veggie burger and chips sprinkled in parmesan had us all reaching to ‘share’ and dip chips into the cumin flavoured mayonnaise. And apparently the burger was great and – as the menu suggested – definitely didn’t ‘suck!’

A large, soft seeded bread roll stuffed with caramelized onions, and served with a surprisingly effective honey and dijon mustard flavoured butter was also shared around the table with enthusiasm.

And the mushroom bruschetta – a mix of Asian and European mushrooms arrived on really crunchy toast and as the menu had promised, it was teeming with great flavours.

We debated dipping into the make-your-own salad bar, but decided that would be over-doing it and we would save that experience till next time.

Assuming that every dish is as successful as the ones we tried, we loved it! There is a whole page of healthy ‘liquid provisions,’ where you can choose from organic teas, fruit smoothies, and cold pressed elixirs designed to satisfy, detoxify, purify and energize.

As for the desserts, Robbie himself delivered his two favourites for us to sample: salted caramel icecream with popcorn crunch and homemade chocolate sauce, and honey comb topped with lemon curd and Greek yoghurt. Totally scrumptious!

Another popular trend that Robbie has engineered? An open kitchen, so you can watch your meal being prepared through the hatch. Satisfying AND entertaining…

*Adapted from an article written for Newsflash, November 2013. With thanks to June Vann for her ice cream, and to Google Images for the photo of Robby.

Posted in Food & Wine, Philippines | Tagged Green Pastures, organic, paddock-to-plate, Robby Goco, salted caramel, Shangri La Plaza | Comments Off

Exploring Filipino Cheese

Posted on 2 November 2013 by sheg4184

The true origins of cheese-making are lost in the mists of time, but it is well known that cheese has been a popular and nutritious dairy product throughout Europe and the Middle East for centuries. Dating back thousands of years, cheese was originally made from sheep or goat’s milk. In its simplest form, goats cheese is made by letting the raw milk curdle, then draining and pressing the curds. More sophisticated techniques use rennet, vinegar or lemon juice to coagulate the milk. Aged, it is put in brine to form a rind, and then stored in a cool cellar or cave for several months.Today, there are over 2,000 varieties of cheeses world-wide.

Cheese is a perfect snack with bread and wine to introduce, compliment or complete a meal. Cheese adds flavour to your cooking and can also be used to thicken sauces. Varieties include hard cheeses like parmesan and pecorino, fresh cheeses such as ricotta and feta, chèvre (goat’s cheese), blue vein cheeses and surface rind cheeses like camembert and brie.

As an Anglo-Australian I was raised on cheddar – on toast for afternoon tea (merienda) or with piccallily on sandwiches for school lunches – and I have fond childhood memories of gathering on our parents bed on Sunday mornings, for the weekly treat of cheese and tomatoes on crackers – my father’s piece of culinary genius, that inevitably ended with a bed full of crumbs after the enthusiastic nibblings of four small mice!

This simple repast led to a lifetime’s devotion to cheese, and I developed a passion for cheese in all shapes, textures and tastes: tangy, biting blues like Stilton, or rich, creamy ones like gorgonzola; soft, ripe, runny, bries that engulf the tastebuds, and firm, salty pecorinos to accompany a glass of magenta Shiraz.

Living abroad has always been a great adventure, but the presence of good cheese – or lack thereof – can make or break a posting for me. So imagine my delight to discover a handful of cheese-makers here in the Philippines.

Traditionally, the Filipinos have been a nation neither of cheese-makers nor consumers, largely due to the negative effects of heat and humidity. As recently as thirty years ago, there was very little cheese available in the Philippines apart from Kraft and the local fresh white cheese made with carabou milk (water buffalos) and resembling buffalo mozzarella – kesong puti – which is popular for breakfast eaten with freshly baked pan de sal or sprinkled on top of puto (steamed rice cakes). That is changing.

Over the past decade, innovative Filipino craftsmen and women have been learning the tricks of the trade. They have even invented a few of their own to deal with the tropical climate, with both creative and tasty results. Exhibiting dedicated perseverance, they have experimented with cheese recipes to discover those best suited to the climate and local taste buds. The traditional goats milk is still the most popular ingredient, but some cheesemakers also use sheep and carabou milk.

Wandering down to the Fort, where I knew I could find some homegrown cheeses at Echostore, I discovered a surprising variety: feta and chèvre (goat’s cheese), cream cheese and ricotta, even a locally made version of Parmesan, ‘queso rustico,’ care of Olive Puentespina of Malagos Farmhouse Cheeses in Davao. And then there is Mambo’s Kesong Pinoy and Neufchatel. Another place to explore for cheese is the Sunday market at Legazpi, where I found a tasty “Feta Filipina” from Blue Rose’s Green Garden: a delicious and spreadable mix of feta and homemade pesto.

Of course any cheese tastes good as a simple snack with bread or crackers, dried fruit or nuts, but it can be fun to experiment with something a bit more complex. Many of these local cheeses work well with simple Italian dishes. Use a feta or chèvre in a tomato salad; sprinkle queso rustico on pasta or kesong puti over a pizza, and ricotta is perfect for filling ravioli or in a baked cheesecake. But my favourite is still Sau del Rosario’s bruschetta made with grilled peppers and topped with thick slices of fresh goat’s cheese… irresistible!

Finding traditional Filipino dishes that contain cheese can prove tricky, but it can be interesting to adapt favourite recipes by using local cheeses. Experiment with old favourites like macaroni cheese, or for those with a sweet tooth, cheesecake made with a local ricotta or neufchatel and mango … Enjoy!

*Adapted from an article first published in COOK, September 2013.

Posted in Food & Wine, Local Culture, Philippines | Tagged cheese, COOK magazine, kesong puti, Malagos Farmhouse, Mambo's, Sau del Rosario | Comments Off

Kids Galore!

Posted on 25 October 2013 by sheg4184

It was almost a year in the making, and despite a lot of last minute juggling, last weekend we finally pulled off a bit of a coup. Eighteen boys, between three and sixteen, headed south to Graco’s Farm, accompanied by eleven chaperones and three extra children. We were almost forced to cancel due to the threat of heavy showers, but the boys were so excited – they had been up since 4am – we couldn’t do it to them. Instead, we watched nervously as we headed south under clouds drenching the world with non-stop drizzle from Calamba to Los Banos and threatening to drown the day.

Luckily it had perked up by the time we reached the farm, and the boys emerged into a world sparkling with raindrops, all remarkably quiet considering three hours cooped up in a bus, perhaps a little overwhelmed by broader horizons.

Dante and Grace were awaiting our arrival, keen to introduce the lads to all the animals. But let’s get our priorities right: food first, and a merienda of rambutan and rice cake, with a cup of refreshingly chilled pandan juice flavoured with lemon grass under a canopy not far from the open-air goat shed.

So many special memories of that day will fill all our heads for some time to come:

Watching the boys question Dante eagerly about the two ungainly ostriches with their huge eyes, so beautifully belashed, and the rather damp peacocks…

Eighteen boys butting heads with as many kids, who were grabbing branches greedily through the railings from eager hands…

Meeting a cheeky young goat who could knock the lid off the feed bucket with her head…

Small hands eagerly grabbing feed for the goats, encouraging those scatty animals to eat from their hands, while little Matthew, wary, heart pounding furiously, nervously approached the hungry goats from the safe height of my hip…

Watching Christian, only four, but confident and cool in this unfamiliar environment, running and tumbling like a circus clown across the paddock to the pond, and later, leading the boys in single file, like a sergeant major, to the photo spot…

Two dozen boys in purple T-shirts hurtling madly after turkeys, ducks and chickens, causing a rumpus…

Laughing at the male turkeys (toms or gobblers) with their loose, rubbery red wattles (snoods) who fanned their tail feathers with narcissistic smugness, unaware of how truly ugly they were and how much better they will look on a platter at Thanksgiving…

Chatting to gallons of muddy brown ducks through the wire who were glossy white before the last storm…

Cupping our hands to hold the tiny chicks, soft and downy, in tortoiseshell colours…

Gourmet cooking with pizza bases and a wide variety of toppings, waiting incredibly patiently for them to arrive, in batches, until everyone had a pizza in front of him and the feast could begin…

Colin, like the Pied Piper, leading the kids across the paddock to the pond full of water hyacinths…

Improvising games with cheap balls from Toys R Us, using up some energy and retrieving one from the pond by dangling the tallest boy down the bank almost into the water to grasp it with his feet…

A handful of daring boys scaling the trunks of the rambutan trees to grab the last of the fruit, others grasping eight feet of bamboo tipped with a sharp scythe to cut them down from ground level, stuffing arms full into their t-shirts or the legs of their tracksuit pants…

Winding up the tyre swing and spinning and spinning and spinning until even those watching were dizzy…

Hugging the elderly farm Beagle, kind and patient with over-excited boys…

And a final line up on the office steps, with everyone but Aarushi and Fiona (noted missing by the boys immediately, when we took them photos) waving arms blocking some faces, but all alight with smiles…

And back at school on Monday facing endless, wheedling, wide-eyes requests about when we could go back to the farm…

* With my thanks again to Nicola Barker for her glorious photographs.

Posted in Local Culture, Philippines | Tagged goats, Graco Farms & Leisure, Pila, Tulay Ng Kabataan | Comments Off

Of Monitor Lizards, Macaques and Flying Mammals

Posted on 20 October 2013 by sheg4184

To visit the Underground River was the underpinning of our trip to Palawan. We had even booked a hotel nearby. And then we nearly didn’t make it! Strong currents on the Sunday – backlash from the typhoons further north – forced the coast guard to cancel all boat trips. As we had originally planned to meet friends in Puerto Princesa on Monday morning we got ever-so-slightly panicky, but luckily it didn’t prove too hard to alter our plans, and Monday dawned clear, calm and navigable.

The Puerto Princesa Subterranean River National Park was established in 1971 to conserve this extensive and stunningly beautiful cave system beneath a limestone mountain, through which the underground river flows to the sea. In 2012 the Underground River was officially chosen as one of the New Seven Wonders of Nature.

The Underground River Cave is more than 24 km long and contains more than eight kilometers of the Cabayugan River, which winds through the cave system before emerging into the South China Sea. The lower portion of the river is brackish and tidal. The area also represents one of the most significant habitats for biodiversity conservation in Asia.

We left the hotel immediately after an early breakfast, and walking along the beach to the quay where we clambered aboard our designated outrigger and headed out to sea. We followed the beautiful coastline until we reached a small bay where a flotilla of boats was already jostling for position just off-shore, and rode the rolling surf onto the beach. From there, we followed the boardwalk to the river, where smaller boats waited to take us into the caves. We all donned hard hats (low tunnels?) and then hovered beyond the bank as the ubiquitous photographers took photos of us setting out on our next Big Adventure.

Entering the Underground River cave system felt like a journey straight into a Tolkien novel, and I found myself on the look-out for Gollum and Goblins. Or perhaps we were in one of those human biology documentaries about the living body, when you travel with a microscopic camera down the throat and along all the important arteries?

The caves were unexpectedly full of bats. The smell initially gave them away, and then we began to notice large numbers of fist-sized bats clinging to the roof of the cave, looking ready to plummet head-first into the water. As soon as the boatmen started using their high beam torches, there was a rustle and a flap, and stray bats began swooping delicately through the caves, dodging the boats and their passengers with admirable skill. As we spotted the heavy streaking of guano on rock walls, the importance of our hard hats suddenly became obvious, and we all shut our mouths firmly as we looked up.

Our guide, Ricky, was quite young, but very confident and full of practiced patter, fluently cracking jokes like an experienced stand-up comedian. My favourite moment, however, was an unintentionally funny remark: Ricky was describing the ‘Bonfire bats’ and it took me several moments to realize I had misheard ‘vampire bats’. In the meantime I had images of small flying mammals bursting spontaneously into flame!

The rock formations were truly impressive. Stalactites and stalagmites garnished all the caverns and tunnels through which we rowed. The largest cavern we visited has been christened The Cathedral, with its towering roof and stalagmites in the form of the Holy Family. Another stretch of the river is known as the Market Place, filled with stalagmites shaped like artichokes and banana hearts and stalactites in the image of zucchini flowers, mushrooms and okra… well, he told us to use our imaginations, and anyone can see carrots and cucumbers!

Time passes strangely in the dark. We could have been in there for only an hour or for a whole day. Eventually, as the tour progressed, the river began to feel like rush hour, as more and more boats joined the throng, passing each other skillfully in the tighter channels, the boatmen hailing each other with funny – and doubtless oft-used – quips. At the end of the tour we wandered back up the boardwalk, now swarming with mid-morning tourists, amongst whom a handful of macaques wandered confidently, unflustered and apparently unaware of our presence.

We spent a few final moments cooing over a clutch of gorgeous baby monkeys showing off on the edge of the clearing, while two hefty monitor lizards, unperturbed by our presence, baked quietly in the sun nearby. Then it was back to the beach to leap the waves and clamber aboard our boat for a final putter up that glorious coastline and back to base, agreeing that we were really glad not to have missed out on such a special trip.

*With thanks again to Nicky Barker for sharing her beautiful photos.

Posted in Philippines, Travel | Tagged bat, caves, macaque, monitor lizard, Palawan, Puerto Princesa, stalactites, stalagmites, Undereground River | Comments Off

Nicky & Ally’s Awfully Big Adventure

Posted on 15 October 2013 by sheg4184

An old school friend flew into Manila last week, and two days later the typhoons chased us off Luzon and down to Palawan. We were booked into Daluyon Resort, two hours drive up and down winding, half made roads from Puerto Princesa and a stone’s throw from the underground river.

On our first full day, our plans to go snorkeling were defeated by grey, murky seas and intermittent rain. So we decided, instead, to head to Ugong Rock with our guide Gilbert (short for Engelbert, because his dad was an Engelbert Humperdinck fan), and a family from Cebu. A huge solitary limestone rock emerging from the valley floor, Ugong was named for the ringing sound the hollow rocks produce when you tap them. Earthquakes have brought a number of these limestone protuberances to the surface like giant zits jutting up out of the earth’s surface amidst acres of rice paddies.

Several years ago, foreign tourism consultants advised the villagers in Barangay Tagbinet to create a ‘successful community-based sustainable tourism site’ that ensure the sustainable use of their natural resources and generate an income for the community. This should include building a viewing platform on top of Ugong Rock. Yet in the beginning, despite the efforts of the villagers, few visitors came. So they lost interest and returned to their usual work.

Eventually the local government stepped in, and with the help of the ABS-CBN Bantay Kalikasan Foundation and the Department of Tourism, they came up with a plan to develop Ugong Rock as an ecotourism site.

The venture has been a success. Six years later, the village is swarming with small tourist groups. as we all gathered in a hut for our orientation talk, an articulate and speed-talking local gentleman gave the Sir-Ma’ams a run down on our proposed adventure. Kitted out in white cotton gloves and safety helmets, we headed towards the entrance with our tour guide Bon Bon.

A narrow path led away from the village and around the edge of the rock. The first twenty minutes seemed to be an endless series of photo opportunities: at the entrance arch; around sign posts; in trees; under stalactites; in ill-lit niches.
A fissure in the rock evolved into the entrance to the first cave, and proved the need for the helmet, as my head bashed into a rock jutting out at eye level. I was more wary after that.

The gloves are a great idea, to prevent tactile tourists damaging the living stalagmites with sweaty palms. We edged sideways through narrow openings and along pathways between looming rock, ducking out into the sunlight again (to pose by another sign) before clambering over loose rocks and up a rickety ladder and around a rock shaped just like an eager dog sniffing for food. A traffic jam occurred in a small cavern where we waited our turn to climb up an almost vertical wall to an opening twenty feet or more above our heads, with the aid of ropes and tackle and encouraging guides.

Breathless and disoriented (my helmet had slid forward and obscured my vision half way up) we finally arrived on the viewing platform on top of the seventy five foot limestone formation, with an almost 360 degree view of the surrounding countryside. Three zip lines descended steeply to the valley floor. One, making a scarily steep, almost vertical descent into the river was being used by five young boys to haul bags of rice to the top. Another dropped off the top of the rock into lush vegetation and treetops to then stretch hundreds of metres across rice paddies to a small hut on the far side of the valley.

Decked out in a tight webbing harness designed for thinner thighs and smaller bottoms, I perched precariously on the launching pad, peering down at the valley floor and the wire that seemed it would run me straight into an orange hut below. I was eager to leap into the void, but I had to wait while I was adjusted and clipped and heaved about into a straight jacket arrangement to be attached to the zip line.

Eventually all was in order and my cameraman having taken a couple of pictures as proof of my immense courage, I was swung out and off the platform, arms spread-eagled, heart clenched, mouth wide. The initial plummeting sensation was a little unnerving, and as the thick vegetation on the side of the rock leapt up to greet me, I hoped I would not shut my eyes the whole way. As you would with any show ride worth its salt, I yelled loudly to release the pressure in my stomach and found myself soaring out over the rice fields below, loving the sensation of flying, gliding, and wishing it would go on forever, as I skimmed over treetops, loving the bird’s eye view of the countryside. Too soon, I was racing towards the orange wall. The line swooped up onto the top of the building, and expecting to slow down as I reached my destination, I was unnerved to find I wasn’t slowing down at all, but was about to hurtle over the platform and through the safety net and into oblivion. I hit the stoppers with eyes clenched tight, and a startling lurch like a car crash that landed me in the arms of four or five small Filipinos sent to save me from imminent death.

Once my legs stopped shaking, I just wanted to turn around and do it again, and despite an utterly tortured face at the rapid landing, Nicky felt the same. Sadly Gilbert had other plans. We were going on a short jungle trek to see Lion Rock, a cave only 300m off the road, but down a pathway obscured by undergrowth, overgrowth and inches of thick oozy mud topped with flood water. It was a very different sort of body scrub!

Australia’s Occupational Health and Safety would have been mortified by this little side trip, and it may not have been something we would have done with any pre-warning, but the adventurousness delighted us, despite mud up to our knees, broken flip flops, and potential loss of vision from the pointed bamboo stalks. Clambering through streams, and scrambling up slippery rocks, we eventually found the cave and made our way through to the open mouth on the far side. Our only complaint was that nobody had cleared away all the greenery so it was not obscuring the stunning view out over the valley below us.

We sloshed and slurped back to the jeep, my sneakers squeaking and heavy with mud, despite rinsing them off in the river. We decided we were in no state to eat out at Gilbert’s uncle’s second-cousin’s restaurant and headed home for lunch. I am still trying to rinse all the mud from my shoes…

* With thanks to Nicola Barker for sharing her photos, and the memories.

Posted in Philippines, Travel | Tagged Daluyon Resort, Lion Rock, Palawan, Ugong Rock, zip line | Comments Off

Petaluma’s Bridgewater Mill Restaurant

Posted on 8 October 2013 by sheg4184

High in the Adelaide Hills on the edge of Bridgewater is the old Bridgewater flour mill. Built in the 1860s and lovingly converted over a century later into a cellar door and gourmet restaurant among the gum trees, with a working waterwheel.

The home and cellar door of Petaluma Wines was founded in 1976. Thirty seven years later, on a Spring day, it is a particularly beautiful setting out on the deck, listening to the splash and rumble of the water wheel, smiling on the bright yellow mimosa flourishing along the edge of the creek.

The menu is contemporary Australian with a Japanese touch, using many locally sourced ingredients. On a Sunday and public holidays, eating here means a three-course set menu price at an extravagant $90 per person. A tasting menu at $95 per head is also available for group bookings.

In spite of my initial, reflexive gasp at the cost (wine was not included), this was a special occasion, so I won’t gripe. And luckily it turned out to be well worth the price, for a fascinating culinary journey of artistically arranged, eye-catching dishes. I can’t say we enjoyed every flavour combination, but we could not fault the sophisticated effort put into each dish. And while we were initially taken aback at the small servings, in the end we left the table completely sated.

The wine list is an extensive and colourful array of beautiful Petaluma and Bridgewater Mill’s best wines, but we were celebrating a birthday, so it had to be the bubbles – or as it is officially baptized: 2008 Croser Rosé from the Piccadilly Valley, in honour of founder Brian Croser. Comfortably sipping at our glasses of blushing effervescence, the four of us were primed to explore the menu, and eventually made the following decisions:

The Adelaide Hill’s veal was gently, pinkly grilled and served with an apple, celeriac and mustard cream. I loved the veal, it was most beautifully cooked, but its delicate flavour was a little lost under the mustard sauce. So we learned to dab the meat lightly with mustard and it then turned into the number one favourite.

The buttered crayfish tail, served with braised daikon (oriental radish), seaweed consommé and shaved bonito (dried fish flakes) required a dictionary and proved to be an unusual fusion of flavours that impressed no one. Unfortunately, the flavour of the tiny, almost invisible portion of crayfish was overwhelmed by the overt, unattractive seaweed and dried fish consommé.

On the other hand, the seared scallops were perfection… and perfect on their own. What is this ridiculous fashion for surf and turf? The scallops were certainly not improved by the dry, poached chicken. Try again. Give us an extra scallop or two and discard the chook! At $28 per entrée surely you can afford the extravagance?

Luckily, despite a somewhat disappointing start, we can do nothing but rave about the main courses.

Duck confit (confit de canard) is a specialty of Gascony consisting of a cured (salted) duck leg cooked in its own fat. Topped with beautifully crisped skin and served with local Kanmantoo bacon, white beans, rosemary and cabbage, the taste combination was delectable: a sophisticated comfort food that warmed and delighted.

Turning again to the fish, the birthday girl was far more enthused by the trout than the crayfish. Again, shallow fried to a crisp, the skin crunched while the flesh melted, and the fish was accompanied by squid balls, peas, radish and wasabi for an interesting kick. The squid balls made us all giggle like school girls, but dipped in a tempura style batter, were actually an interesting and tasty alternative to that ubiquitous and over-rated favourite, fried calamari.

We all managed to order different dishes this time, with the expectation of a little sharing. Well, all I can say about the pan-fried gnocchi with king brown mushroom, chanterelles, Gruyere and Jerusalem artichokes is that it must have been absolutely delicious, as my dearly beloved aunt was MOST unwilling to share!

Never mind, I survived well enough on my Hahndorf venison – we had waved at those sweet, self-sacrificing deer as we drove up the freeway – seared and served with glazed pear, black pudding, polenta and walnuts. I am not an avid fan of polenta, but in this case, it had been paired perfectly to add texture and not distract from the strong, earthy flavour of the lightly seared venison. And the small cubes of black pudding were an exotic addition.

The bubbles were gone, but we were now drooling over the dessert menu. A dish of cinnamon apple, poached rhubarb, toffee and walnut crumble was shared with enthusiasm. Hot molten chocolate cake with mandarin segments and burnt orange ice cream? Irresistible! And a selection of local and imported cheese, with fennel toast… well, there were no local cheeses as it turned out, but I’m not complaining. I all but licked the plate clean… and far too greedily to note down what they were, sorry!

A pricey lunch indeed, and not an unequivocal success, but the chef must get credit for some bravely alternative experiments with flavour and texture, and combined with the congenial surroundings and friendly, informed staff, not to mention the birthday bubbles, there were no loud complaints. It seems all was for the best in this best of all possible worlds on a serene Sunday afternoon.

*With thanks to Google Images for the shot of Bridgewater Mill and to my daughter for her foodie photos.

Posted in Australia, Food & Wine | Tagged Bridgewater Mill, Croser, Petaluma | Comments Off

Cabbages and Condoms

Posted on 2 October 2013 by sheg4184

Almost twenty years since we left Bangkok, I was not expecting to find my favourite restaurant alive and thriving after so long. Our concierge assured me that it was still in business…

…So I gathered up my friends and caught a taxi to Sukhumvit Soi 12, to rediscover Cabbages & Condoms, the restaurant in which ‘our food is guaranteed not to cause pregnancy’. We followed the winding brick path past the gift shop and life-sized mannequins fancifully costumed in condoms to the entrance. As we waited in line with a large group of hungry diners, I wished I had ignored the concierge at our hotel and booked a table, but luckily the queue moved quickly, and we were soon seated.

The character of this open-air restaurant has changed a bit since I last visited in the mid-1990s: the maze-like arrangement of shrubs and pot plants in the central courtyard is no longer in evidence, with tables discretely tucked into nooks and crannies amongst flowering bougainvillea. That magical dining area has unfortunately been cleared and expanded to accommodate a growing clientele, and the courtyard now sports neat rows of plastic chairs and tables – although it is bejeweled in fairy lights and edged with pot plants and hanging vines just as it used to be. There are private air conditioned rooms available, although I gather these don’t have much ambience, so we were pleased to be given a table on the mezzanine up amongst the treetops, and I settled happily in to see if the food was as good as I remembered.

Explain the name? And the strange theme? Of course, and apologies for being so remiss. Let me introduce you…

“Cabbages and Condoms” was originally set up to promote the concept and practicalities of family planning. Today there are several C&C resorts restaurants around Thailand, from which all proceeds are used to support the PDA (Population and Community Development Association), a non-profit organization established by the former Thai Minister for Health Mechai Viravaidya in 1974.

a non-profit organization founded in 1974 by Mechai Viravaidya, the former Thai Minister of Health. – See more at: http://www.gonomad.com/896-a-restaurant-with-a-mission-cabbages-and-condoms-bangkok#ixzz2boIvsGQT

It may seem gimmicky, but this non-profit association supports birth control, environmental conservation, rural development and AIDS awareness, and the story goes that the founder wanted to spread the word on birth control and believed that “birth control should be as accessible and as easy to buy as vegetables in the market!” Apparently his message has been successful. According to statistics, the Thai population growth rate had dropped to 0.5% in 2012.

It is a worthy concept that benefits from the fact that the restaurants serve good quality Thai food, with plenty of well-known dishes on their extensive menu. Our table was soon laden with food: crunchy spring rolls with sweet chili sauce: pork satays and the ubiquitous peanut dip; betel leaf with a delicious, nutty filling, and a melt-in-the-mouth mussaman lamb with imported Australian meat and potatoes cut into the shape of small flowers. The Pad Thai wrapped in a thin omlette was perhaps not the best I had ever tasted, but the chicken and cashew nuts, and the sweet and sour pork went down so fast I could have blinked and missed them. Sadly, many dishes, including my favourite Thai fried rice appear to have been westernized over the years: dishes are milder and the fried rice no longer has that inimitable dash of coriander, just a large dose of diced carrots and peas. The kids were happy, however, and the evening was deemed a success. Even when a cloudburst threatened to drown us and our food, our team of waiters moved like lightening to shift us under cover. Service was unusually prompt, pleasant and friendly, and we didn’t feel at all rushed.

We visited the gift shop on the way out, where the condom theme continues to be evident, amongst a general collection of locally handcrafted souvenirs. Of course it was the small posy of flowers made with condoms, the humourous condom posters, comic mugs, t-shirts and paper weights that drew our attention and the giggles of our teenagers! (The adults of course were sedate and sensible).

As an added bonus, the vasectomy clinic next door offers a free snip for male diners while your meal is being prepared. Then, with coffee, diners are offered not an after-dinner mint, but a condom or three! Strangely educational, it is also a great night out.

*As published in Inklings, October 2013.With thanks to John Reed and Google for the photos.

Posted in Food & Wine, Thailand, Travel | Tagged Bangkok, Cabbages and Condoms, vasectomy | Comments Off

“Que Sera Sera”

Posted on 26 September 2013 by sheg4184

My sister told me a sweet story recently about her five year old daughter, who came to her parents one evening and asked what they wanted most in the world. My brother-in-law replied that he most wanted his family to be healthy. My sister explained that she just wanted her family to be happy. “And what do you want most in the world?” my sister asked her small daughter, who let out a long, theatrical sigh. “I just want all my dresses to be glittery.”

We hooted with laughter, of course, but it made me pause for thought. What do I want most in the world? Well, of course, all the usual: healthy, happy children, ripe tomatoes for breakfast, a decent oven, world peace… but personally? Shall I tell you what I want – even though I suspect my dreams are less likely to eventuate than the glittery wardrobe? Well, OK, but I am doubling my chances by making two wishes. Number one wish is to realize a dream I have dreamed since I was about the same age as my niece: to be a published writer. Number two wish: I long to be graceful. If you have read my piece about my ‘glamourous’ spa day in Puerta Galera, you will know by now how graceful I am not.

So I am delighted to tell you that my favourite writer, Bill Bryson, is just as clumsy as me. And he also longs to be graceful – although he, being male, uses the word suave, as in: “I ache to be suave.” But my thesaurus assures me that suave and graceful mean much the same thing.

Fame, it seems – though it may eventually provide a wardrobe choc-a-block with glittery dresses – does not necessarily bring grace or suavity… suaveness?…whatever… But Bryson uses this to his advantage by telling many witty and self-deprecating anecdotes about his inability to travel through life with any decorum whatsoever.

In one article he is at the airport and can’t find his frequent flyer card at the check-in desk. Desperate for air miles he goes on a mad hunt through his bags which results in a broken zip, a profusely bleeding finger and a whirlwind of papers, passports and pipe tobacco across the length and breadth of the departure hall.

I empathize. I also have a bag that eats things. It swallows receipts for breakfast, my keys for lunch and my lipsticks for afternoon tea. I have been forced to upend it in the street many times in a mad search for my frantically ringing cellphone hidden somewhere in its depths. I envy Mary Poppins her efficient and magical carpet bag that happily regurgitates everything from lamps to umbrellas at the flick of a wrist.

Like me, Bryson is disaster prone and seems to excel at creating catastrophes. Airports and airplanes have a habit of providing the most humiliating scenarios. He is, for example a complete klutz with food and drink – not a popular skill when travelling economy. In one article he describes how his arm takes on a life of its own, causing him to fling his drink over his unsuspecting neighbour. Not once, but three times. He claims it is the only time he has heard a nun swear.

I have only travelled in Business Class once in my life, and never with a nun, but it is unlikely I will ever be asked to turn left again, after throwing my orange juice across myself,my small, equally accident-prone son and two seats only moments after putting down my hand luggage. But I am proud to think that I resisted the temptation to blame my poor, damp son. Just!

One of my favourite of Bill’s stories is not related to flying – exactly – but is about ice-skating. Imagine the scene: a cold winter’s day, the sun glittering on the snow, and Bill eager to join in the winter fun with his children, foolishly promises them that he is a great skater and dashes down to the frozen pond. He then proceeds to prove he is neither Torville nor Dean, as, confronted by so much slipperiness his legs get totally over-excited and take off in different directions, his body parts and internal organs ‘hurling themselves at the ice’ until he finally falls in a heap, spread-eagled across the pond, looking as undignified and ungraceful as Yours Truly skating on slippery feet across the massage parlour.

So perhaps I, like Bill, must accept uncoordinated as a birthright – que sera sera, as the song goes – and will attempt to retain some dignity by dodging any offers to skate, ski or otherwise hurl myself about voluntarily.

But perhaps I can still dream of becoming a famous writer!

*Article originally presented at Toastmasters, and with thanks to Google Images for the pictures.

Posted in Lifestyle | Tagged glittery, graceful, suave | Comments Off