Neighbours

One of the disadvantages of living in the West Coast is how distant it is from all the happening spots in the Lion City. It takes an hour by MRT to go to Orchard Road, and this would entail hopping from one train line to the other. And if you do that pretty often, chances are, you’d be topping up your NEXT card every other weekend.

Our usual hang out spot is Jurong Point, a mall the size of tRobinsons Galleria. The mall is just one bus ride away from NTU. Last weekend, driven by my yearning for pasta, I went there with my roommate Jeni, and our neighbours CS and Jun Feng (pronounced as Jin Fung).



Jeni and I

One of my worries about NTU is whether I’d get along well with my roommate. I initially wanted a single room, but the powers-that-be gave me a double. I’ve been independent for the longest time that I can’t imagine myself living with somebody, and a stranger at that. Jeni and I have been getting along tremendously so far. We spend enough time together to bond, but also spend enough time apart just to make sure we don’t get on each other’s nerves. So far, so good.



JF and CS

I met the boys when a pipe from our ceiling leaked. My Chinese housemate got a little panicky, and convinced me to go upstairs to inspect if our neighbours did something evil to result in a threat to flood our entire flat. That was how I got to meet CS, who introduced me to his flatmate, Jun Feng. The leak stopped miraculously the next day, and that was the last we talked about it. We still hang out with the boys, though, as a way to cure our boredom. What I like best about them are the stories they tell about their countries. And I think they find the stories I tell about the PI interesting, too. They were really surprised that the country has had two female presidents, has a vibrant arts scene, many love to read, the English I speak is considered mediocre by Pinoy standards, and that so many Pinoys speak and even think in English. The thing is, the PI is a Third World country populated by a lot (though not the majority) of extremely brilliant, artistic, and liberal people.




Bolognaise was how they spelled it in the menu. Bolognese is how we usually spell it in the PI.

About the pasta: it was a little bland, especially if you compare it to what I used to have in Chef d’ Angelo and Sbarro. But I had great company, which makes the $9 I had to fork out worth it.

Photos by Tan Chee Seng and moi

Food Dreams

I've always loved food. And it always loved me back. At least, the food back home.

One of my fondest childhood memories was of the whole family eating in a place called Hong Ning Panciteria in Cubao. The place was a little dingy, the owner always wore a scowl, but the place served the best Chinese food I can remember. And just like any Pinoy kid, I grew up frequenting Jollibee. Back in college, I got hooked on the pineapple-topped Aloha and chocolate sundae. Yum!



Was supposed to upload the Jollibee scandal. Pero wag na lang, hehe!

My passion for food continued way after college, thanks to my job as a marketing assistant in a sosyal chain of restaurants. I remember spending my afternoons munching on fudgy brownies and sipping homemade iced tea-- yes, liquid sugar. My food tripping journey continued when I started working for magazines. The late nights can make you either ornery or hungry, or in my case, both. It didn't help that during the first three years of my YES! era, we worked inside a mall, and beside the food court at that. I only lost weight three years ago, but maintaing my ideal weight has always been a struggle.

For now though, I think I'm winning the battle. I used to eat four times a day; now, I only three times. I used to look forward to every meal. At present, it's just something that I do to survive. I used to wolf down every bite. I now take my time and chew everything carefully and sloooowly. I'm greatful for the scholarship I got from the Lion City's government. I've been treated well in campus. But the food here is really, really bland. As in bland like cardboard. I want to gift the cafeteria cook a dozen bottles of sukang puti, Mang Tomas Sarsa, and Maggi Savor. God knows he needs it.

In the Third World, it's a sin not to finish your food. I've been committing that sin since I landed here. Heck, my soul must be burning in hell by now.

Last week, my Malaysian neighbor CS sent me a link of a video with this message: “This doesn't mean anything. I just really want to share you this video. I was really touched.” This was the video:

View this movie at cultureunplugged.com

Chicken a la Carte by Ferdinand Dimadura

Thanks, CS. You're now making me feel very, very guilty. Oh well, I may not be saving the Third World, but at least I'm losing weight.