Saturday, June 29, 2013

What's Cooking: That's It Pancit Canton

Being Pinoy, I really have a penchant for the classic pancit canton. It's my go-to recipe whenever I run out of ideas to cook or if I have a midnight hankering for something I can't put a finger on. What's great with pancit canton is that you can make it with almost anything. You can make it quite special with a bazilion ingredients or really simple  with just a couple of things you have in your fridge.

Here's a quick and easy pancit canton recipe that came to me out of necessity. . . at 1 A.M. in the morning . I needed a quick fix and just used what I had on hand. This one is literally That's It Pancit!


2 tablespoons oil
1 small onion sliced
2 cloves of garlic crushed
1 tablespoon light soy sauce
1 tablespoon oyster sauce
1/2 cup water or more if too dry
1/2 teaspoon white sugar
dash of pepper
a couple of frozen kikiam (Filipino fish sticks)
half a small carrot shredded
a quarter of a small cabbage shredded
1 250gram pack of cooked canton noodles

a dash of sesame oil, just because I saw it next to the soy sauce ;-)


1. Wash your noodles in hot water then drain and leave it alone. Meanwhile, heat the oil in a shallow pan over medium heat. If you have a giant strainer to drain the noodles in and a wok to cook in, feel good about yourself, you're kitchen is better equipped than mine ;-)

2. When the oil is hot enough but not smoking, saute the onions first then add the garlic after a minute or two. Letting the onions sweat it's juices prevents your garlic from burning. Burnt garlic just won't do, like EVER. When you start smelling the garlic pour in the soy sauce, oyster sauce, water, pepper and sugar. Let it simmer.

3. Throw in your fish sticks or fish balls or squid balls or left over roasted chicken or pork, well you get the point, you can add whatever left ever meat you have as long as it's still good to eat. Throw in your noodles and shredded veggies, wait for a couple of minutes, when the cabbage starts to wilt, you're good to go!

Put it in a bowl and nomnomnom!

*Bonus: I found some chicharon (pork rind) and lime, threw those in and it made a whole world of difference.


Sunday, June 16, 2013

The Nice One

People think just because you’re the quiet one, you’re the nice one. They're wrong!

You’re not nice. You’re patient.
When all three of us girls, talk, squeal, nag, chatter away or make unintelligible noises at the same time, you manage to keep calm and love us anyway.

You’re not nice. You’re generous.
When so many men your age think about cars, gadgets & other guy stuff, you think of us. You always put yourself last and strive to provide for us and more without asking for anything in return.

You’re not nice. You’re a loving man.
While so many men get jaded & cold, you manage to keep your innocence. Despite your worries, busy schedule and everything else on your shoulders, you still manage to play with the girls and laugh your heart out like you’re a kid too.

You’re not nice. You’re trustworthy.
When so many men try to find ways not to get caught, you value what is true and what is honest. Despite what is going on around us, I know that we can always count on you to do what is right.

You’re not nice. You’re a blessing. 
I may worry about the girls all the time, be the bad cop all the time, but there’s one thing I know for sure. When the time comes for them to choose their husbands, I know they will choose well because they’ll know what to look for in a partner. Because of you they’ll know what a real man is.

People think just because your the quiet one, your the nice one. They're wrong!

We both know you snore like a Harley! Still, we both know I can’t sleep without hearing it. 

We love you Daddy! Always. Always. 

Friday, March 1, 2013

Beat the Heat with Zesto Slice!

If you were born in the 80's and you did not live under a rock, chances are you were a Zest-O kid. At one point or another, "Woh-hoh, way to go Zest-O!" became your LSS (Last Song Syndrome) and you've drunk Zest-O upside-down with the straw punched at the bottom side.  For sure, your family also had one of those "styro" boxes filled with ice or maybe a Coleman if you are "sosyal". Still, Zest-O  ang laman nun, iba-ibang flavors pa. Wag i-deny!

Summer is just around the corner, Hubby and I are already planning what summer activities to do and where to take the kids. One thing, we're sure to never forget is our ever-reliable, yellow "styro" box in the trunk. Of course, ano laman? Eh di, Zest-O!  However, gone are the "Woh-hoh" days, now it's "Slice, slice baby!"

Same old goodness but different packaging and new flavors. Now our favorite childhood drink, Zest-O SLICE comes in 355ml bottle, that is just the right amount to quench your thirst and isn't heavy on the pocket. At home, we have our own favorites already. Hubby and I love Orange and Dalandan flavors, they're a classic. My eldest daughter loves Grapple, a combination of Grapes and Apple, light, refreshing and according to her it's "sweet, delicious and her favorite". Our ever reliable yaya loves Mango Bursts, it's a combination of Mango and Strawberry. May discriminating taste si Ate. 

Apart from the yummy thirst-quenching flavors, what I love about Zest-O SLICE is, it's a good source of Vitamin A, C, E and Zinc that that helps boost the immune system. This is important to me as a mom and as someone suffering from adult-onset food allergies. 

What's your favorite Zest-O? Try it now, beat the heat and sing "Slice, Slice Baby!"

**Sponsored post ;-);

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Kids & Hangovers

From Instagram:

While nursing a hangover from last night's college reunion:

S: "Here mommy, i'm making you more comfortable with purply my blanket and some of my's a towel if u need to cough or vomit. i'm here for you coz i'm worried your voice is broken.are you comfortable?"

Now if only my mother did this, I'd have stopped drinking!

#guiltpunishment #collegereuinion #neveragain #imtooOLDforthisShit


Saturday, February 23, 2013

A Bad Ass Mommy Prayer

Mothers are neurotic. It's true, from the moment we saw those two little lines, heard the first heartbeat,  held that little nugget in our arms, changed that first goddernitawful, stinky diaper and saw that first melt-you-to-your-toes smile, we we're goners! There will always, always be somebody to think about, hurt for, fight for, be afraid for, clean all possible surfaces with bleach, twice for. Always somebody running around the playground carrying your heart with them, haphazardly leaving/dropping it on the ground every time they climb the jungle gym. Your worst fears personified and quadrupled, if you have a girl. 

Of course there's always somebody to play with, shop with, cuddle & tickle with, be BFF's with, listen to One Direction, Justin Bieber, Taylor Swift, Maddie Jane and insanely-difficult-to-get-over Korean Pop Songs with and "seem" like you are merely supervising their choice in music.

Always, always somebody for you to love and to love you. There are people who wear their hearts on their sleeves. A mothers heart is wherever her children are.

Here's an excerpt from Tina Fey's autobiography Bossypants. It's a prayer, I think, a bad ass mommy prayer. One, mothers whisper in one form or another.

“First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.
May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.
When the Crystal Meth is offered, May she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with Beer.
Guide her, protect her
When crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.
Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels.
What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.
May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.
Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen. Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.
O Lord, break the Internet forever, that she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers and the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.
And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.
And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back.
“My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.” 
― Tina FeyBossypants

What did I say? Mothers are neurotic.


Friday, February 1, 2013

Sofie Punch Lines - Tricky Questions

on patience
me: sofie please don't tap the bottle (bottle of honey). be patient. 
sofie: you mean patience is a vulture?     

on peace & quiet
hubby: sofie you give mommy peace & quiet or you're gonna get it!
sofie:from who? you or mommy?

on work 
hubby: so, you're okay with mommy working? 
sofie:  yes, uhhmm how much money am I gonna' get?



Sunday, January 27, 2013

Retail Therapy

Paulo Coelho once said when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it. This is true, even when it comes to shopping. 

Okay, so maybe I'm using a great quote to justify something purely superficial, but hey, a girl needs a little retail therapy now and then. The other day, I had a good cry and hubby wanted to cheer me up. I trooped to the nearest mall and got really good deals. 

I'm not really good at posing for pictures and I'd rather take them than be in them. However, being in my 30's I have to at least take some pictures to show my grandchildren that grandma was once H.O.T. right?

So, forgive the cam-whoring and check out some of the steals I got ;-)

Dress # 1 - Mango knit dress, got it on sale at Php 945. I love how versatile this dress can be, I can go from slightly-slutty-cowgirl to prim and proper with just a change of accessories

Dress # 2 - Missy , this dress has a bit of corporate feel and should look great with a jacket. I am so loving the baby collar. It's sexy without being slutty. What's best? I got it at 50% off for Php 500. It should, fit perfectly if I give up cupcakes for a week. 

Dress # 3 - Bayo halter dress. It's in chiffon but with the prints its casual enough to wear to the mall but can also be spruced up for Sunday brunch. For Php 545 pesos it's a steal. 

Till next therapy session, toodles!


Friday, January 25, 2013

Driving Lesson

You are the road of love and at the end, my home.

I woke up this morning with the sheer determination that I will learn how to drive today. At least, learn to start the car. Sofie is going to big school soon and it will be difficult for hubby to drive her everywhere. So, with butterflies in my stomach we went to the cemetery (can't do much damage there) for a little driving lesson after dropping off the diva. 

See, ignoring the law really brings you no good. Right at the gate there's this big sign that says "No, practice driving". Rules schmules! Ignored it right off. We went around and paid a little visit to my brother then hubby handed me the keys and made me sit in the driver's seat. He told me about the gears, the clutch, gas and break. I made sure I remembered the break well. He told me to step on the clutch and put the key on the ignition. Tadaaaa! I started the car! Now, it's time to get moving. Right. Hubby said that it should be the right mix of stepping on the clutch and the gas. In my head all I kept thinking was "The break is in the middle, just hit the breaks and nothing will happen." I tell myself,   "Your father and brother are really good drivers, it's in the genes"  I stepped on the clutch and slowly stepped on the gas... well maybe not slow enough. The car lurched forward really fast, I freaked and stepped on the gas. Thank God for seatbelts! Hubby said that I should step on it slowly,said something that implied it's better to learn from a driving school and for about 30 seconds he freaked. Well, maybe not so much. But in my head, he really freaked. I went over to the passenger side and pouted myself silly. Yeah, pouted like a teenybopper that I'm not. 

For some stupid reason, I started crying. Hubby was saying sorry and tried to comfort me. Even offered shopping. Bribery! I still kept crying and it was hubby who told me that it was no longer about driving anymore. He was right. My dad and my eldest brother were really good drivers. I always thought that I would learn from them. When my Dad taught my brother how to drive I was often in the back seat, listening to his gentle instructions. Together, they made it look really easy. Too bad they're no longer here to teach me. So, I cried and cried and cried. Hubby cried with me too. 

After so many years, I'm still not done mourning. Then I thought about my mom, my dad and my brother and the things we didn't get to do and can't do anymore and it hit me. Even at 33, I still feel like an orphan.  There's a sense of loss, of an empty space that I can't fill anymore, even with my kids and my husband who loves me and I love so much. 

There's still a part of me that is bereft. Orphaned. 

I haven't cried in a while and I'm so thankful I married a kind, understanding, loving and hot man who understands all the crap that's in my head. Has the ability to sift through it and still see the beauty in me. I may have empty spaces in my heart but he manages to make the other parts thrive with color that they don't seem to hurt so much anymore.

Yeah, yeah so I went into catharsis overdrive and thought about what would happen to my kids if something happens to me. Will they be strong enough? Will they be ready? Yadayadayada! If youare a parent, you know what I mean. Nostalgia turned into worry and worry into paranoia. I need therapy. Retail therapy. 

After hubby left for work, withthekids cleaned and fed, I trooped to the nearest mall and basked in the joy of Mango and Bayo sale. Yup. Cured me right up! Haha! Enough of the heavy! 

Will post pics of my purchases soon. 


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