I haven't cooked anything in weeks. It's been busy at work as we are preparing for something big, and this week is the climax of everything. To compensate, I have eaten a lot though, but not the kinds I really want to eat, though me and my friends at work still dabble in the occasional pigging out if only to let loose after a tough tough day. Other than that it's unhealthy junk food and a lot of bad cafeteria food. Case in point: I ate a tub of Selecta's Chocolate Truffle Ice Cream.


Selecta is advertising everywhere that their gold premium selection are the masterpieces of renowned Filipino chefs Sau Del Rosario, Rolando Laudico and J Gamboa. I've tried all three and am not really impressed considering Selecta started out really great as an ice cream and that their quality has declined ever since they were bought by a big conglomerate. But given how bad Selecta has been, these new flavors will do.


I am particularly drawn to the Chocolate Truffle Ice Cream, attached to Chef Rolando Laudico's name. It has an overzealous amount of chocolate truffles in it, and you get chewy chunks of it with almost every dip of the spoon. It's a great texture: it's still powdery and fine and its chunky and chewy. As for flavor, the truffles are ok but a little more bitterness wouldn't hurt. Then again, it's a commercial product and maybe making it bitter wouldn't make it as commercially viable. The ice cream base leaves a lot to be desired though. It's plain and doesn't really add any depth to the chocolate truffles. The worst part about Selecta is the price: this 800ml tub costs P160--a lot more than the usual ice cream. I'm not sure if it's worth all that much, but given how hot it is, you can always use some blinders to ignore the price. So if you're tired and hot, you can finish an entire tub in one sitting:


What can I say? The weather has given me an excuse to indulge in more guiltier pleasures than necessary.

I stumbled upon this "No Reservations" episode on the Philippines somewhere in Facebook. Mr. Bourdain sounded too patronizing. It would be nice to know what Anthony Bourdain really thinks, off-cam.

The traditional piaya is basically flaky unleavened salty bread filled with sweet muscovado sugar. The dough is rolled into a ball, filled with the sugar and flattened before they are thrown into the oven for baking. It's originally from the Visayas but you can now see it peddled in every part of the country these days. I like the simplicity of the piaya: I imagine these humid summer afternoons being tempered by a couple of piayas and a tall glass of ice-cold water. It works fine for me.


I went home one day with ube piayas. I've seen it before but I have never tried it, and this was pleasantly surprising. The dough is laced with ube, or purple yams, adding a layer of sweetness. Lovely with an espresso shot.

Went to the revamped SM North Edsa Annex and picked up a couple of frozen yogurt desserts from the newly opened White Hat Italian Frozen Yogurt. It offers cold desserts made with frozen yogurt, offering possibly healthier—and not to mention more environmentally viable—options to ice cream.

The history of frozen yogurt traces its way back to the 70s in the United States but only took off just recently with the commercial success met by international franchises such as Red Mango and Pinkberry. Frozen yogurt ususally consists of low-fat yogurt, sweetener, gelatin, corn syrup, coloring and flavoring, and is blended in an ice cream machine. It melts slower than ice cream, but unlike ice cream, frozen yogurt is more tart and not as creamy.

It’s the tartness that can throw people off, and the frozen yogurt in White Hat is no exception. If you have a strong aversion towards yogurt, then this dessert may not be for you. But if you can take yogurt, then let me give you eight reasons to visit White Hat:


This list is basically their dessert formula, and while there is still that redundant M&M and Cheesecake option, it’s nice that White Hat has come to incorporate locally-available ingredients and flavors into their repertoire. Unfortunately, a lot of the ingredients seemed like they were taken out of the can or the jar—even if they display fresh fruits on the counter. So even if they have a decent yogurt base, I can’t help but feel cheated because the toppings are not exactly fresh. Instead of taking their yogurt to another level, stuff like their bottled cherries and kiwi preserves actually dampen the experience of wanting to eat yogurt. It’s not as good as it’s supposed to be and not exactly as healthy. In the end, the selling of this ‘healthy’ dessert becomes another ploy to market a commodity.


And it is an expensive commodity. A big yogurt combo sells for P150, and a small one for P120. If you don’t like any of their set combos, you can buy just the frozen yogurt and pay P85 for a small 4oz cup and P115 for the larger 6 oz cup. Two toppings cost P35.

The past few weeks have left me tired, and I am anticipating the next few months will weigh me down even more. I celebrated my birthday in haste, and have had mini trysts with friends, in all that celebration I encountered two different versions of the Cuban Mojito, and I knew I had to make this one myself.

I've simplified mine: simple syrup, crushed mint leaves, white rum, lime, ice and a good arm to shake everything in a shaker. The original recipe calls for carbonated water which I find you can do without. And I have christened mine the 'Dirty Mojito' just because I find some of the crushed mint leaves get stuck between the teeth, and I can get a little anal about it. Crush some mint in the shaker so as to let the oil in before filling the shaker (you can use a plastic glass that has a spill-proof cover) with ice. Add 3 table spoons of simple syrup, 1 tbsp fresh lime juice, a hefty amount of rhum (about 3/4 way of the shaker), and a pinch of salt. I find that the salt brings out some depth to the mixture. Shake everything together allowing some of the ice to melt. Serve in a glass.


This is my version of the perfect summer cocktail.

Pinasugbo is the popular term for bananas that are thinly sliced, deep fried to a crisp, and coated in really thick caramel before enjoying a light sprinkling of sesame seeds. The banana slices are then bunched together and wrapped in the bottom part wrapped in paper to make eating it a little less messy. Depending on the paper used for wrapping, the pinasugbo can be prove to be a tough ordeal as you spend lots of time trying to undo the paper from the sticky surface of the dessert. It’s a popular dessert down south, and can be seen being produced by almost every province there is.

Pinasugbo is also one of the desserts of a nostalgic Filipino childhood. No homecoming to the province is complete without children sampling pinasugbo. It was my dessert of choice as a child whenever we would visit relatives in Antique and Iloilo. I remember those three-hour bus rides from Iloilo to Antique, when peddlers would hop in and out of the bus, selling pinasugbo wrapped in clear plastic, the glimmer of caramel glistening against the banana, making it difficult for other sweets to compete. I begged my mother to buy as many bags we can afford, and I would eat all of them in the bus. I remember caramel sticking in my fingers, shards of bananas trapped between my teeth, and my tongue licking off the last traces of caramel from the paper as I watch the local scenery breeze through the windows of the bus.