I was in London last week, after not visiting the family for a long long time.
Then it hit me I do miss England sometimes… yes I lived there for a short while, and I also visit my sister and friends often. When I would say to friends am going home for a while, they would ask, Athens or London. Continue reading
I took the bike along the beach here in Valencia last Saturday… it was sunny yet the wind is biting. I dismounted from my bike and paused to hear the surf crashing against the sand and feel the wind against my skin..
Warmed by peacoat and scarf I wanted to take off my shoes and dipped my toes in the sand.
Wasn’t it just a month ago I left the sugary sands of Langkawi and just walked barefooted along the shores? Continue reading
An old student of my mother has left me a message… heard you were home but how come I did not see you?
It was hard to explain why I did not tell everyone I was coming home. I grew up in such a small town where everybody knew each other. I wanted to remain silent about my trip so I could absorb the feeling of being back “home…”
I do not call it home anymore, but Naga, Cebu is always my hometown. Having left the place in 1984 and visited only twice in which the last was 10 years ago, I finally decided to visit the place after all the years of absence.
Although my paternal grandfather family is not from here, my paternal grandmother (de Gracia) and both of my mother’s(Alfar/Quimbo) family belong in this town. I belong in this place, this where my roots are from…
Naga at dawn taken at Oceanside, two days before I left.
This is the place where my childhood memories belong, the sea and its hills. The Sunday markets when farmers bring their harvests to the town. The streets I know very well where I know everyone’s homes and the place I spent countless days playing in the outdoors.
Summer days we would just open the back gate of our property and walked amongst the corn field and one field planted with peanuts while we walked in a single file all heading to the beach.
I could still hear the breeze ruffling the palms of the coconut trees as we could smell the breeze of the ocean.
Full moons were spent playing hide and seek with all the neighbourhood kids. Weekends running around the property playing catch me , climbing up the tamarind and avocado trees.
Writing this piece now I can just smell my grandmother’s gardenias, our neighbour’s cooking and sweet smell of fruit trees around our house.
I visited the town’s church, St. Francis de Assisi built in 1893 with corals and limestone.
The very church where my parents were married ,my sister and I were christened and as my sister says where every Sunday we would hear mass and she would be yawning waiting for it to finish so we could get our Sunday treat at the market to eat “shakoy”,similar to donuts but twisted and fried. Banana cues ( those wonderful fried bananas with caramelised sugar)..
Then head to my great uncle’s place for lunch where our aunts and uncles (the Bautistas) would treat us again with ice creams and other yummy food like puto or biko (sticky rice one cooked with ginger , the latter with brown sugar yet both with coconut milk) prepared by our great aunt Tia Naty.
Small town life what a wonderful thing indeed…
Then by the age of 12 I was accepted in one of the prestigious schools in the city. Long way back then 25 kilometres one way, was a long and tiring trip for someone so young.
I was placed in the care of my mother’s ex students who were all in the university thus started a boarding house life in which I could not grasp the city life. I was simply suffocated, I missed the town…
old classmates, childhood friends…
Who would have thought that two years later of studying in the city, with my sister joining me in the same school, my mother decided we all had enough with traveling and rented a house for us… and the town life slowly faded away and became a weekend place..
And who would have thought a year later we would leave in exile?
Leave everything and everyone behind.
So indeed I went back, I spent countless hours walking from one end of the town to another. Talking to people along the way who recognised me and simply recorded the beat of the town through my eyes…
More photos … click here.
… pulled tea in Mandarin. A tea that would take me a while to love.
The tea is poured back and forth between two containers ( watched this process when I was in Singapore) to give a strong flavour called “pulling”.
It is such a strong black tea served with condensed milk.
You can enjoy this at Kofi tiams and restaurants in Malaysia and Singapore.
To be honest I did not know what to expect from this cake. Stephen was in Italy and was constantly raving about this gooey, so soft a cake their Swiss chef made for the crew. He described to me all the ingredients that rather made my crew’s eyes roll…. figs, dates, poppy seeds?
But he said I must try to bake it and he guarantees that it’s heavenly.
Every time we chat, the first thing we talk about is food; what have the chef cooked for them or what I have cooked for my crew.
I did meet their chef, Carolina, when I visited him in Viareggio and we ended up talking about Switzerland, and food of course. So as promised I will experiment and post this story as my “Thank You” for the Clan crew who were so lovely and who welcomed me.
The only thing I changed in this recipe is that I did not use fruit based yoghurt. The stewies shopped soya yoghurt so I opted for Greek style yoghurt (not Fage but rather a French brand Danone.. if ever I see Fage here in Valencia I will surely stock up).
So I checked my baking cupboard, found everything that I needed when the captain asked me what kind of cake I was going to make. I said it’s something where you put everything in,blend and bake.. hoho.
He is probably hoping I will do some tart au citron, his favourite…
One crew read the recipe again… and wondered what happens and why 1/3 of the mixture is added last. I guessed that this makes the cake gooey. The recipe does not say the size of the baking tin but from my own estimate 8″ would be perfect. I was almost tempted to make cookies out of the batter but how was I suppose to stir the rest of the batter?
After the cake had settled, I left it in the oven for while before taking it out.
Ah the excitement… we sliced it before it even turned cold.
Verdict: it tasted very Christmassy – the orange chocolate added to it made that flavour stand out.
Crunchy too from the poppy seeds and chocolate bits.
But we all agreed of its sheer deliciousness.
As per Stephen’s instructions: serve it with caramel sauce.
Oh yes I failed to cut down the crew sugar intake…
Ingredients:
1 pot of Yoghurt (any flavour – but mixed berries or fig is nice)
(Use the Yoghurt pot for the following measures)
2 Sugar (Demerara or Brown)
3 Self Raising Flour, or 3 normal flour and add 3 teaspoons baking powder.
1 Fat (Melted butter or Vegetable oil)
1 Orange – Juice and Peel
A little swig of Molasses if available
1 fig (cut into small pieces)
about 8 Dates, again cut into small pieces
(Can add more or different fruits if you like, but add more flour in that case)
1 pack of 70% dark chocolate
Poppy seeds
About 3 eggs (more or less to make creamy batter)
Method:
Mix all the ingredients together and put 3/4 of the mixture in a cake tin and place in the oven at 200 degrees. Bake until brown on the outside.
Remove from oven and give it a good stir around, adding the rest of the mixture at the same time.
Finish baking in the oven at around 180 degrees… not for long… just until set.
Perhaps last weekend’s getaway best described that quote. We had no fixed plans, we could not even rent a car… we did not force ourselves to make it to the train station early.
We even thought it would be just a slumber Sunday since it showered most morning… but I did not fly all the way to Italy to miss Lucca.
Lucca…I have fallen in love.
The city is full of vaulting arches, great doors, Romanesque architecture. For someone who loves photography as much as I do, this place is the perfect place to be.
We entered the city at Porta San Pietro, one of the entries to the 16th century brick wall with perfect mansonry and walked along Passegiata della Murra. The wall streets over the city bastions are lined up with maples, acaccias and elms with terrific autumn scenery.
As soon we entered the city we just walked and walked with no specific direction and nor did we force ourselves to check the grand churches. We just wandered around following the flow knowing the place is circular and will not get lost.
Except for one exception; we looked for Torre Guinigi for which we do not need a map. 230 steps was all worth it as you can see the spectacular view of the city and the countryside.
Happily we sat down for an afternoon tea minus the cakes. Oh how I managed that! And we marvelled the scenery on the train ride back to Viareggio.
Excitement of receiving a letter or a parcel when you are so far away from friends and family just make my world go round.
For weeks I waited patiently for a parcel to arrive from UK that was posted to my boss’ office in Hamburg which either the guests or the boss himself would bring over to Italy. Oh like Pony Express but that’s the reality of being at sea.
When it indeed arrived it felt like Christmas. Oh joy.
I felt like a little kid who received something but yet still could not believe it happened, running my fingers over the parcel and staring at my name on the address.
Some might just as well say its just chocolates. But for my eyes they are not just chocolates. They are Green & Blacks.
What is so special about them?
Green & Blacks are the first organic chocolate bars that have been marketed since 1991. I first discovered them while I was living in UK and found the dark intense chocolate just velvety and sheer pleasure to eat.
Apart from the irresistibility of these chocolates they are actually low in sugar. The higher the intensity of the chocolate the lower the sugar content.
Other than it’s organic?
He walked in the pouring rain to post them ….so it could make it on time when my boss joins us in Italy.
He really knows how to cheer me up knowing I find comfort in these chocolate bars.
Inspiration came the next day and I opened my cookbook “ Unwrapped – Green & Black’s Chocolate Recipes” leafing through the pages I wanted to create something easy but yet irresistible.
I remember I have book marked nougat mousse recipe except at that time I could not find some Toblerone.
Luckily in Olbia , Auchan supermarket stocks up a lot of products known to mankind or rather to a globetrotting cook like me.
Honestly it’s the easiest dessert I have ever done, easy yet so seductive.
” The magical ingredient in chocolate comes from a pod that grows out of the trunk of a tree” Green & Blacks, “Unwrapped”
Chocolate Nougat Mousse
295g Toblerone broken into pieces
reserving one piece for decoration
6 tbsp boiling water
275ml crème fraiche
2 egg whites
Place the chocolate and the boiling water in a heatproof bowl suspended over a saucepan of a barely simmering water and allow the chocolate to melt slowly.
Remove from the heat, cool until it thickens and then fold in the crème fraiche.
Whisk the egg whites until stiff peaks form and fold into the mixture.
Chill in the fridge for at least 6 hrs
I used a small dipping bowl and dusted the top with cocoa powder and plated them with chocolate drizzle and a piece of macaroons.
I served this dessert when we were in Corsica
Thank you Stephen for such wonderful present!
By the way Green & Blacks cacao are bought from the Maya Indians in Belize that gives children in the villages a better future, changing lives for the better.
For chocolate lovers check these chocolate related films:
Chocolat with Juliette Binoche
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
Willy Wonka
Like Water for Chocolate
I left the USA last May and found myself back in France once again. Although the Mediterranean season starts when the spring air blows, melts the snow and Easter is on its way, I was still in Florida (and then New York) with my last boat. I kept my word to my last Captain and did not leave until we took the boat up north. I was a bit anxious the first few days since most jobs that had been offered in early spring were already taken. But I knew, somehow,there would be a job for me. It was just a matter of time and patience. Lucky for me, one of my former captains and his wife adopted me until I found something. I let another of my former captains, Hubb, know that I was back in Europe, hoping we could catch up.
I met Huub a long way back when I had just started in boating. I was a junior stewardess on that boat. Years later, we were again working together on another boat and I was the chief stewardess. One day, he told me he was going to see another boat in Hamburg and asked if I wanted to come along to work with him if he gets the job. He got the job, but I chose to return with my old boat.
Yes, it would be great catching up.
A few days later, he rang me up to see if I would accept a job on his boat, not as a chief stewardess, but as a chef.
Chef? Cooking for the guests and crew? I told him I was not too sure about this. I have cooked for some previous bosses of mine and for a small crew of 10 or so, but Chef? He explained the owners do not want a culinary trained chef. They only want simple home cooking, clean and healthy.
“What makes you think I am capable of that?”, I asked.
“Because I have tasted your food!”, was the reply.
I had two days to think about it. My last Captain, Axel, told me that I should be a chef. I sat down with Captain Benjamin and discussed the prospect.
Could I see my hobby and passion turning into a job? A few days later, I was checking in at the airport for Valencia, Spain. Who would have thought that years later I would re-join Huub as a chef?
When I arrived, his first word was, “Finally!”
A few days after joining the boat, we left Valencia for Italy with a pit stop at Mahon, Menorca, seemingly endless days on sea while the guests fished. One afternoon, while I was soundly asleep on the foredeck, the boat suddenly rolled. Odd. I dashed to the bridge to know what was happening. One of the guests caught a tuna. The boss asked if I needed help to fillet it. I said don’t worry I can handle it…
That was before I found out it was 11 kilos of tuna! A few hours later, we caught another one…23 kilos! The crew looked at me, horrified, wondering how I was going to clean that one up! But I successfully filleted it and the next day served sashimi!
That huge tuna felt like my initiation to the cooking world. Other than the cooking itself, I also dealt with shopping at different places with my very basic Italian, little sleep, cut fingers, scaldings…I even poured a quiche mixture onto the tin with out the pastry. Despite a few disasters, new recipes to test, and different guests coming my way, I have successfully made a lot of bellies happy. Without my vast network of chef friends, from whom I ask advice and beg for recipes (especially Victoria), I don’t know if I could have survived. Yet here I am, still standing and enjoying every moment of it!
In less than a month we will head back to Spain. I still need to pinch myself, still wonder at the end of every day how beautiful it is to cook. I’ve turned into a baking fairy as well. One treat I made that the guests really enjoyed is a fig, prune & mascarpone tart recipe that I found in a Jamie magazine I picked up at the Nice airport (Jamie now has a monthly magazine). The recipe is from the Pam Tal cookbook, A La Greque, and is a perfect summer tart when figs are in season, scrumptious and easy to make.
330 g plain flour
110 g caster sugar
220 g chilled unsalted butter, diced
4 egg yolks
6 dried figs, sliced
12 pitted prunes
125ml port
3 eggs
80g caster sugar
250 g mascarpone
250 g pouring cream
1. Heat the oven to 180C and grease a 23cm loose based tart tin
2. Combine the flour and sugar in a food processor. Add the butter and whiz until it look like breadcrumbs. Add the egg yolks and whiz until the pastry just come together to form a ball. Wrap in a cling film and rest in fridge for an hour.
3. Dust the tart tin lightly with flour. Roll the pastry out to 5mm thick then lift it onto the tin and ease into the edges and up the sides, leaving an overhang of about 2cm. Refrigrirate for 20 mins.
4. Remove from the fridge and roll over the edges of the tin with a rolling pin to trim the edges neatly, Prick the pastry with a fork then line with a baking paper and dried beans.
5. Bake for 20 mins then remove the paper and beans and cook for further 10 mins until the pastry is just cooked.
FILLING
1. Combine the figs, prunes and port in a heavy based saucepan and simmer gently until the fruit is soft and all the liquid been absorbed. Remove from the heat and allow to cool.
2. Spoon evenly to tart shell
3. In an electric mixer , whisk the eggs until light and fluffy.
4. Whisk in the sugar, followed by mascarpone and then the cream.
5. Pour mixture over the fruit in the tart tin and bake for 45- 50 mins until set and golden.
Thank you to Stephen my ex crew mate on Mitseaah, my fellow foodie for reminding me that the readers might think he has not cooked for a while… and to Karl for proof reading my post.
I was telling an American friend that I I did not have to cook the crew’s meal that day as we were all given the day off after the boss left. But I did mention that we had a very interesting dinner: TOAD IN THE HOLE… Toad in the hole, what?
His reaction was exactly how I reacted upon hearing those words 25 years ago. When we arrived in Greece, in 1984, we were sent to an English school and there I have learned a few things about the British culture, from the habits afternoon teas and their odd sounding food like spotted dick and toad in the hole.
I was out of the boat and sent a message to Stephen to defrost the bangers. How I got those bangers is story to tell. My weekly shopping routine ended us up in the different area near Whole Foods…the organic store in the US. Not much having time left before I need to go back to the boat and cook lunch, we decided to shop there.
So I gave Stephen things to grab and put Selina at the meat section to order what I needed. Little did I know she bought some bangers.
I told Stephen maybe I will make a full English breakfast but by the time I made it back to the boat it was almost lunch. I egged him to do some bangers and mash.
I showed him where the potatoes were but then I heard him opening cupboards that I checked on him if he needed something else.
Flour… flour on bangers and mash? Then he asked for a baking dish. Oh dear… certainly he was up to something. Then came out the eggs and milk.
He had a wicked grin on face and said, Toad in the hole…
Oh my , been ages I have not eaten one. I was watching him prepare our dinner when he actually ordered me to help and do the gravy. Onion gravy, there he goes chopping and frying onions while I prepared the gravy and when it was almost ready to pull it out from the oven, my cook “ordered” me to set the table.
Toad in the hole as Delia Smith said , “’is a simply wonderful creation from the humble origins of British cooking.”
Here is how he cooked it as he said:
Toad in the hole batter…. Done steve’s way!
Put some plain flour in a mixing bowl.
Make a hollow in the middle and break two eggs into it.
Break up the egg yolk first then mix the beaten egg into the flour to make a dough… If it is runny, add some more flour, if it is still powdery then add another egg.
Then add milk until you get a smooth creamy batter.
Put the mix in a cool place, or even the fridge.
While doing the above, prick the sausages and place them under the grill to brown off and drive out some of the fat.
Then turn the oven to maximum heat and place a suitable metal baking tin into the oven with some oil or butter in it. Wait until the oil is smoking hot, and remove the tin from the oven.
Immediately pour in the batter and place the sausages in it too. Return to the oven as quickly as possible. Reduce oven temperature setting to about 220 centigrade.
It will usually take about 20 – 30 minutes to cook… Wait until the batter has finished rising and is golden brown.
Try to avoid opening the oven too often and loosing the heat.
Remove from oven when done and don’t forget to serve with Bisto gravy!
It’s the temperature shock that is important for the batter to rise. The batter is exactly the same as a Yorkshire pudding. Add salt to the mix to taste… I don’t but I don’t like salty food.
It was yummy yum indeed, thank you Stephen for all the great times in the galley, the times I dragged you walking and for partly writing this piece…
There was something beautiful about the name , “Jensen Beach”.
I first heard about the place from my ex-captain when he attended a wedding there last year and it stuck in my mind since then…. Jensen Beach.
I know it’s just north of West Palm. A couple of friends have moved there with the boat they are working on and they have been telling about the area and that I must visit.
Since we did not know what was going to happen with us aboard the boat, whether we were crossing the Atlantic or not, it was a bit hard to plan. Then we were told our bosses were coming to Ft. Lauderdale and yet nothing was sure.
But I still told my friend to look for a place to stay. When I got an email about the place, I could see the inn is a small place. Only 8 rooms and it’s a B & B and it’s a 107 year old family owned house.
The two and half hour drive from Ft. Lauderdale , was well worth it when I opened the room. Sleigh bed, luxurious blankets and huge memory foam pillows. It was not the typical inns I have seen in the US, but rather something I would expect in the UK, except of course for the ceiling fan, the shutters and the wooden floors which are light and airy. A typical old Floridian house.
I have never slept fitfully for so long and when I woke up I noticed that the wall of room is a beautiful shade of dark blue and the front door leads to the garden.
As I was told there was a complimentary breakfast, oh and oh, a proper kettle. So here is the best part of the stay and I have let my friend write about it…
When you think of the breakfast part of an American “Bed and Breakfast”, what images come to mind? Typical pancake house fare of pork products and eggs, coffee, toast and orange juice? All tasty, mind you, especially if prepared by a cook with a bit of care about them.
What if a different image came to mind?
Orange juice, yes, freshly squeezed just seconds before being placed on the table; organic teas, prepared in the English style, hand packed in “proper” tea bags; raspberry scones, piping hot from the oven, flaky and light with seemingly a thousand layers of buttery pastry and just the right balance of sweet and tart from the natural raspberry puree; and poached nectarines in a superbly light brown sugar syrup, subtly sweet, firm but not crunchy; finally, a blue potato fritatta – yes, wonderfully earthy tasting, deep indigo-blue heirloom potatoes surrounded by delicate and frothy eggs and a touch of cheese, served in a personal cast iron skillet, complete with a linen napkin secured to the handle with butcher’s twine to prevent accidental branding of your palm.
Yes indeed it was of the best breakfast I ever had in the US. And the innkeeper herself, Katie made it for us. Katie said I could always come in for fresh tea, heavens, that exactly I wanted to hear as I love their organic tea very much and while walking around the properly, Bella, the dog followed me everywhere.
Jensen Beach is located in Florida’s Treasure Coast, a name she got, as number of Spanish galleons were wrecked off the coast in the 17th and 18th centuries.
Inn at Tilton Inn
3350 North Indian River Drive
Jensen Beach
FL 34957
USA
info@InnAtTiltonPlace.com
More photos of Jensen Beach and Stuart here…
One of the memorable breakfast was I had was in Norway … read more… click here
