STK ta Bay!

Foodtrip.

So much for our anticipation to get on the Edge Coaster rides; but it was halted when cold feet crawled upon majority of us. Instead of playing with fear, we've decided to play with our palate.

From Club Ultima (Crown Regency Hotel), we opted to head to STK.
STK - Sugba, Tula, Kilaw.



This place is really situated inside the Capitol Area, away from the buzz and the lights, so having a private ride saves you the long hike. The place is really homey, knowing it was a private home converted to a . I always have a soft spot for SuTuKil cuisine and this is one example of a "dine-and-pig-out" that I won't decline, if any invitation will be given.



The menu splays all variety of food and cooking you'd want plus the price is really affordable.
So we all took the liberty (actually Pam and Lani did), to pick one out of everything. One heavy appetite coming from girls which should be rather unusual. But we'd licked our plates clean afterward.

Everything's cooked fresh as soon as you have your selection.




Calamares



Baked Scallops



Grilled Tuna Belly



SinugLaw (Grilled Pork and Fish Kinilaw)



Pochero



Hot & Spicy Shrimps



So, you might as well add this place up on your destination list should you be dropping by Cebu.






~Slurping on my soup




~(L-R) Pam, Lani, Moi, Lily, Tin




CHOW!

Larang

I've been wondering what this is.

First time I've scoured the food section of Cebu, I was brought to the wayside stalls at Fuente. Larang is being sold there and I was to share a seat with strangers just to get a swig of the city’s known soup --- a rich and spicy coconut fish stew. It’s no different to fish sinigang but the importance that they’ve laid on this viand couldn’t compare to any ordinary food.

A friend of mine who's from Pasil had brought one to work. She's pride on her Mom’s cooking and talked about the careful choice of fish she’s requested to be cooked.
Hannah Leyson: "Kanang isda sa bato, Byang. Kanang puti, Molmol man ni".
Errol purred right beside me while irresistibly slurping: "Hmmm...I love it!"
It was a different version, ‘twas minus the coconut milk but its soup was naturally flavored sour by the tamarinds that joined it. Nothing beats a home-cooked meal.

So we've taken it at home and here’s our own version of it.

Just had a handful of onions, garlic and ripe tomatoes and substituted the tamarind for the powdered one.



Dunno what fish this is but I knew this would do.



I was in no mood to cook, got the womanly matters. So had to dictate the steps to Lily while she did the cooking. She's a natural.



Well, so much more for staying aside and waiting for it.

The best part is always the eating part.



Chow!

I lack of sleep

I am guilty of wearing earphones at work as I find it easier to work when I can’t hear other people battle with their keyboards.

I grew up listening to all types of music. Morning Sun was one of our breakfast songs. I was told when I was a toddler; I can sing all of Madonna’s songs, especially the tingling parts of Like a Virgin. My obsession with her went on and my parents even rented some Betamax movies of her concerts. Back then, I had a pack of four to five year old boys as pals; can’t remember their names. They didn’t like Madonna as much as I did but I’ve had day dreams that I’d join Little Miss Philippines and do one of her songs. One day, to seek my friends’ approval, I’ve worn my best red underwear with white lace trimmings when I was out and about our apartment grounds. But, my boy band teased me about it and hated me for wearing one. I’ve cried in embarrassment and have never worn it again; I’ve outgrown my fixation of Madonna too early (but I still loved her).

I was three when I got enrolled to preparatory school and I sang a duet with my schoolmate Mark Calo of “If We Hold On” at one of our school’s programs. At this age, I was so engrossed with the movie Land before Time which was why I can sing the lines with eyes closed --- I can also recall my Mom and her discipline stick when we’d have to rehearse it with her. I’d get good amount of slaps if I mess up with the lines and pitch. If I wouldn’t get it straight, I was not allowed to go out and play. Finally, when the day came to deliver it, I’ve sang the whole thing without mistakes and I was relieved that it has to end - for I have to avoid my Mom’s scrutiny. I was back to running on the streets with my boy pals.

There was enough room for curiosity when we were in sixth grade - backmasking which was made to uncover satanic messages from Eraserhead while playing chase as someone was pulling the tapes from its spools. This went on until high school; when people had discovered Alanis Morisette and some ogled over Backstreet Boys.

I was in Junior high when I’ve learned how to play the guitar. I’ve got one as a gift from my Dad.
I do remember him flicking through the pages of his song books and strumming his guitar when I was six years old. I’d listen to him play Our House by C,S,N & Y. He’s told my then young mind about the hidden implication of some songs he’s played like Puff the Magic Dragon and Hey Jude and so on; implications which a lot can retell nowadays. My parents were not that thrilled to having me interested in playing; I was not to enlist myself in any extra-curricular work and I did get in a lot of trouble with it.

I know my Dad was a music hoarder. I was in third grade when he’d worked in Taiwan, I remember him sending us tape recordings of Guns and Roses and Stone Temple Pilots. He had a notable collection of nothing but CDs and cassette tapes but you can see less of them now as I’ve befriended some neighborhood burglar - who won the trust from our dogs and marveled over his minute winnings. I never got to see him again since he boarded the pig-sty cell. I was told that he has to be discharged, well; I do hope that his feet are now rotten.

I’ve then had relationships with men who had music influences on them; who played with bands. Each journey I’ve been with them was different and ecstatic and excruciating - to having your heart broken by your first love and to having to think you were already mature enough to keep one.

But sometimes, I shut myself out from everything and would prefer having music blasting in my ears or playing deaf.
It’s easier.
It makes me composed.
It makes me distant.
It makes me weird and it makes me sensible.
Just like now.

Type.
Type.
Type.

Anchovies

She is the puppeteer to her own life. She kneads the soles of her feet on the tiled ground in comfort. She benefits from walking barefoot across the foyer. Her grip to filthy garbage is easy; she lunges on filth – unsoiled it. Her baffled ignorance is not hindered by her impulsiveness. Daily, she wonders and tries to squeeze out the promise of impossibility. Drowning herself in smoke gives her a calming trance. She stares far away, to no where.