Jamba Juice

I’m not normally one to jump on food trend bandwagons, but I couldn’t resist trying out Jamba Juice on its opening week.  This US franchise, which just opened its doors in Bonifacio High Street, has been a trending topic too difficult to ignore. Curse you, Twitter and the trend awareness you promote!

You can probably see from the above photo that Jamba Juice screams orangey sunshine and happiness. The entire staff chirpily greets customers as soon as they walk in through their glass-paneled doors.

There was a photo booth that allowed customers to snap pics, which then got sent directly to their emails. As can be expected of camwhoring Pinoys, we went jam-ballistic when we saw it!

Your author (aka me), perusing the expansive menu. See how even the lime green wall and orange sofa behind me are so cheery? Jamba Juice is the Disneyland of fruit shakes. Such a happy place!

My indecisive self had quite the struggle picking from the multitudes of flavors, but the Banana Berry appealed to me most.  Bananas, blueberries, apple-strawberry juice, raspberry sherbet and frozen yogurt were what made up this magenta blast of berryness.

The Banana Berry shake was blitzed to a velvet pulp (no seeds on my tongue, yay!) and was a great relief from the scorching weather outside. I liked it a lot, except for the fact that I couldn’t taste any bananas. For Php 135, it is a tad pricier than a Big Chill shake, but the ingredients tasted fresher and more natural. In terms of quality, you’re definitely getting your money’s worth.

Here’s a snapshot of Caribbean Passion, which was made of passionfruit-mango juice, strawberries, peaches and orange sherbet. I only took a sip, but I enjoyed the refreshing citrus flavor. Among all the ingredients in it, the tart sherbet stood out most. It was a bit overwhelming, so order this if you like oranges. If you’re not a fan, stay away!

Apart from shakes, Jamba Juice also has a slew of dishes on the menu. Don’t mind the terrible, blurry photos, as they do no justice to the following dishes I’d  highly recommend:

Jamba Juice’s breakfast wraps are arguably the best I’ve tried in this country! They are covered in a yummy whole wheat wrapper and served piping hot. There are two variations, both of which we sampled.

The Spinach and Cheese wrap was a mix of greens and really gooey cheese. You know when you bite into something cheesy (like pizza), and those milky strings just ooze onto your teeth? Mmm.. that’s what its all about.

The spicy chorizo wrap is even better than the former. I only took a bite, but that singular nibble was a mexican fiesta in my mouth. I tasted corn, cheddar, bell pepper, salsa and chorizo all in one mouthful. This wrap is a lot spicy, a little tangy and all-around delicious. A must-order!

Above lies a blurry picture of one of the best pretzels I’ve ever had. It was soft and warm, gooey when you pulled it apart, and had crispy flecks of parmesan cheese. Jamba Juice is the last place I thought I’d find a lustworthy pretzel, but… sigh.

As a whole, I give this four stars over five. I loved that Jamba Juice had great meal options apart from its specialty shakes, and I’m excited to go back for that pretzel!

Breakfast with Wowa

Though I hate to admit it, I am a chronic breakfast-skipper.

The reason for this is not a distaste for the usual breakfast fare (truth be told, I adore it) but rather, a lack of time. Like most college students, I am a slave to convenience. On the rare days I wake up early enough, I purchase an overpriced latte, and nothing else.

Often, as I miss yet another breakfast or consume a sad excuse for one, I daydream about partaking of an authentic Filipino almusal. I only get the chance to sit down to one when my family vacations in the quaint town of Liliw, Laguna. There, we stay with my grandparents at Tree Farm, where I am required to rise at the crack of dawn.

Still heavy with sleep, I head to the sun-lit dining room for my morning meal. As I step inside, my senses are engaged. I take a whiff of the air perfumed with the aroma of warm pandesal; hear the sizzle of frying garlic; and gaze upon the spread that awaits me.

My drowsiness magically fades. My stomach grumbles loudly. I am ready to eat.

My grandmother, who I fondly call Wowa, is a true testament to Tagalog folks’ reputation of being gracious, gallant hosts. Each morning, she prepares a feast of traditional Pinoy dishes, a practice handed down to her by her parents. As she was born and raised in Liliw, the repertoire consists of choices with a Tagalog heritage, many of which were served at her own lolo and lola’s breakfast table.

Wowa and my cute cousin Ruth at Tree Farm

One such dish is longganisa, a delicacy of the nearby Lucban, deep-fried and served with coconut vinegar. Another is crispy tawilis, a sardine found only in the shores of the Taal Lake. Wowa taught me to temper this fish’s intensely salty flavor with chopped tomatoes and onions.

From Sta. Cruz, she gets kesong puti, a soft white cheese made of carabao’s milk. Most of the time, I stuff the keso inside pandesal. Other times, I mash it into piping hot rice, allowing the steam to slowly melt the cheese.

In typical Pinoy fashion, rice is a big part of the meal. We place mountainous heaps of sinangag, Pinoys’ buttery, garlic-laden version of fried rice, on our plates. I, a total tapsilog groupie, enjoy pairing it with eggs and tapa or fried beef marinated in vinegar. Wowa makes an extraordinarily tender tapa; the perfect complement to a sunny side-up egg, plucked straight from the chicken coop on our farm.

For those wishing to add a hint of sourness to the dish, she prepares a side of pickled vegetables or atchara. Personally, I would rather douse my tapsilog in vinegar and minced sili labuyo, but that’s just me. The beauty of Wowa’s almusal, and perhaps Philippine cuisine as a whole, is that there are no hard and fast rules. Diners have the unlimited license to tinker with their food, especially when it comes to one’s preferred sawsawan or sauce. My grandmother, whose almusal spread always includes a wide array of seasonings, welcomes the idea with open arms.

Let’s move from savory to sweet.

In my opinion, nothing encapsulates the taste of Liliw quite like the town’s doughy delicacies. From the hole-in-the-wall bakeries that dot the town, we purchase a host of breakfast sweets. My absolute favorite is Liliw’s version of hotcakes, a fluffy pancake smeared with margarine and sprinkled with sugar. A close second is balitaw, a donut-like confection coated in a hard muscovado sugar shell.

A close up look at Balitaw

For health buffs that, I presume, balk at the idea of consuming so much sugar, my ever-considerate lola serves some of the region’s lighter treats. One is puto alsa, a large bilao of fluffy white rice cake. Another is bonete, a milky, bell-shaped roll. It is crusty on the outside, doughy on the inside, and the perfect spouse to a hot cup of kape barako. It is known to be the pride of Liliw (apart from their famous tsinelas), and it couldn’t be more deserving of this title.

As can be expected, sitting down to a meal like this takes an infinitely longer amount of time than my rushed breakfasts in the city. Between chatting with my grandparents, heading back to the buffet table for multiple rounds (admittedly, I always do), and sipping hot coffee, almusal can take up the whole morning. However, I don’t mind. My breakfasts at Wowa’s farm may be few and far between, but they are treasured. They give me an opportunity to pause and relax, thinking only of enjoying my family’s company and experiencing a good meal.

That is what a classic Filipino almusal is: an experience. Food is not to be eaten in a mindless hurry. To the contrary, Pinoy breakfast fare is to be enjoyed in a leisurely manner, and every flavor-rich bite is to be savored. Luckily for me, my loving lola makes such great food that lingering at the table for hours, savoring my meal, feels like just a few minutes. Needless to say, I can hardly wait for my next breakfast in Liliw.

Zark’s Burgers

Zark’s Burgers is the new kid on Taft’s burger block. Plunked atop Yellow Cab and Flaming Wings, it is the latest addition to La Salle’s crop of artery-clogging eateries. While it only opened in 2010, I believe, its legend has spread. This is thanks to the massive burgers they dish out, topped with such obscenities like butter, bacon and bone marrow. My friend Mick is a fan, and when he told me they were affordable, I got curious.  Yes, we collegiate cheapos want huge for basically nothing. Huge and greasy.Like most of its fast food neighbors, Zark’s is spartan but clean.
Pasted above the counter is Zark’s wall of fame, a tribute to all the guys who conquered the Tombstone Burger (Php 500). A beast of a burger, it consists of four half-pound patties, smothered with cheese and paired with 200 grams of fries. Word is, polish off this gut buster in 10 minutes, and you get a free t-shirt, your picture on the wall, unlimited bragging rights, and perhaps a bout of heartburn.
Mick ordered the Stone Cold Stunner (Php 185), a double bacon cheeseburger on a bed of lettuce, mushrooms, tomatoes and caramelized onions. It came with a golden heap of fries and a glass of iced tea, just like everything else on the menu.
Here’s a close-up picture of his burger without the bun cap. I didn’t get to taste it, but he kept raving about it.

I ordered the Three Pointer (Php 125), a burger resting above an orange pool of mozzarella, cheddar and cheese sauce. Below it lay tomatoes, caramelized onions (but no onions for me), lettuce and the requisite bun. Did I like it? Not really. For only a little over a hundred bucks, it was an undeniable steal, but not something I’d go back for.

The burger tasted like it was boiled, under seasoned and measured only about a third of the bun’s circumference. My ideal burger has a 1:1 meat to bun size ratio, and this, my friends, did not meet that standard. The bun, on the other hand, was the regular store-bought type, kinda waxy and lacking taste. The cheese sauce was decent, but the mozzarella c0mponent was seemingly absent.

In conclusion, due to the general lack of flavor, I found myself having to pile on the taste-saving trifecta: mustard, ketchup and hot sauce. Zark’s gave this burger three points, but I’d give it a half-point for taste.

Oddly enough, the meal’s highlight was the fries, which were crispy, well-seasoned and cut thick, just the way I like them.

Okay, so maybe you think I’m being a little bit overcritical, given that the burger was so cheap. I agree with you. Quality has a price, and it is definitely higher than 125 bucks. But in terms of quantity, Zark’s Burgers definitely hits the spot. Pay this joint a visit only for two reasons: A) If you’re ravenous but running low, or B) two syllables:  Tomb. Stone.

Quino’s Minestrone

See this bubbling pot of minestrone? It was made by friend Quino, who, I like to think, is like a pot of minestrone on his own. This Italian soup is comforting and traditional, and though it is an unpretentious dish, it consists of the most extraordinary ingredients. After some stirring and simmering, they begin to work in tune, creating a symphony of bold flavors. Much like my wonderful friend.

Quino and a delicious paella he made on one of our previous dinners.

Quino is the quintessential renaissance man: his talents number the stars. He is an award-winning essayist, a historian, a teacher, a speaker, a linguist, and as you can see, a fantastic cook. All these noteworthy skills, combined with his kindness, generosity and the gusto that he lives life with, brew together to form the Quino we all know and dearly love.

I’ve lost track of how many of Quino’s dishes I’ve sampled over the years, but I can say, with utmost conviction, that they were all superb. This minestrone, a family recipe of his, is no exception. It is rich yet light, and sublime on chilly nights, when rain is pouring and you crave the warmth of some hearty soup. While the classic version features Italian sausage, Quino drops in some hungarian sausage, lending the broth a spicy kick. I could slurp down bowls and bowls of it.

Minestrone Rustico (sans beans)

Ingredients:

Hungarian Sausage, cut into chunks

Bacon, cubed

Olive Oil

Butter

4 chopped tomatoes

3 cloves of diced garlic

1 onions, roughly sliced

Shell pasta

Spinach

2 Potatoes (cubed)

1/2 of a large carrot (cubed)

1 cup tomato sauce

1/2 litre of water

1/2 cup good white wine

2 Chicken broth cubes

Paprika

Salt and Pepper

Beans (optional)

Procedure:

1. Sweat bacon and sausage in generous amounts of olive oil and butter.

2. Add tomatoes. Let them cook until wilted.

3. Drop in garlic, onions as well as potatoes and carrots.

4. Pour in the half cup of white wine, reduce, then add the chicken broth.

5. Bring the broth to a boil, then add in a cup of tomato sauce, water and the pasta you are to use.

6. Once the soup boils, reduce to low heat. Simmer for around 30 mins.

7. Add in paprika, basil, salt, pepper and more olive oil. Stir regularly.

8. Serve hot, with crusty bread.

Nigella Lawson

I count the gorgeous Nigella Lawson as my favorite food writer and cook. My shelves are lined with all of her books, and when I began penning my own cookbook, I devoured her writing for inspiration. Her dishes don’t always appeal to me, but her relaxed, sensual approach to food always does. I love hearing about the unadulterated pleasure she gets from throwing waistline-watching to the wind, and when she waxes poetic on food, I can’t stop reading.

These may be old videos, but they pretty much encapsulate Nigella’s take on food, and the joie de vive with which she enjoys it. This is a woman who can skip dinner, and go straight to croissant bread pudding. Just how amazing is that?

Canape Cravings

Late last night, I felt a strange and random longing to make hors d’oeurves.

Woke up today with the desire still stirring in my heart, so I headed to the grocery store to hunt for ingredients. I wasn’t sure exactly what kind of canape I wanted, as I’ve never yet made hors d’oeurves (such a funny little ring to their name, no?). I decided to just throw in anything I liked into the cart, and ended up with apples, pate de foie, brie spread, fresh basil and a crusty baguette.

I turned to my bag of kitchen tricks to weave together a recipe, and here’s what I came up with:

Brie, Pate de Foie and Caramelized Apple Relish Bruschetta

I first peeled and cored 2 apples, then roughly diced them into little squares. Then, I melted about two tablespoons of butter over medium heat. I dropped in the apples, and seasoned them with about two tablespoons of sugar and a sprinkle of salt to taste. I lowered the heat and left them to caramelize for about 30 minutes.

Once the apple morsels softened and were tinged a honey amber, I poured in some white wine. I gave the pan a gentle stir. I then left the apples to simmer until their nectar seeped out and their consistency turned pulpy.

While the apples cooked, I cut the baguette into around 1/2 inch-thick slices, brushed some olive oil on both sides, and popped them into the oven until they toasted. Once I removed them, I was ready for the canape crafting to commence.

On the top of the bread, I spread a thin layer of pate and topped it with a heftier layer of the creamy brie. Over that, I piled on my apple relish and a single basil leaf to garnish aka prettify. 
The finished product.

I was pleased with the way the bruschetta turned out: the pate’s gamey richness, the brie’s creamy tanginess and the relish’s fragrant sweetness worked in sync, especially when contrasted against the crunchy baguette. This recipe was a cinch to make, and the best part was: as the relish caramelized, my kitchen was filled with the aroma of apple pie. Always a good thing!

I made it for friends and they liked it, so I was pretty happy. Definitely making this again…

Valor Hot Chocolate

On rainy, melancholy nights like this, a mug of Valor hot chocolate is a companion like no other. Tucked into my fluffy comforter, sipping this ambrosial brew, I am purring in utter contentment.

Chocolate is my crack cocaine, and resisting this bag of cacao will be excruciatingly difficult. My godfather Inaki’s family stocks this at their store Terry Selection. I told him once that I loved it, and since then, I’ve received a package of it every birthday. Such a sweet ninong!

Valor finds its origins in Spain, where it has been the choice brand of chocolate for over a hundred years. I can definitely see why: it is fervidly rich and just so versatile. Boil these dusky granules in milk for pre-bedtime savoring, or thicken the blend for some churro-dunking. I’ve made triple-chocolate cookies out of this cacao before, and they turned out divine.

However you choose to partake of your Valor, you have to try it!