I’m not the type of person to bat an eye at high food prices. I believe that every person chooses what to spend his/her money on, and I choose to spend mine on food (and all other things food-related). Having said that, the chance to spend P2,200 on a steak gives me pause. Would I really spend that much on a piece of meat? Apparently, it seems I would. This evening, I’m with my Bin and another steak-loving couple, who coincidentally, also own a steak restaurant. I’m pumped for this experience partly because I’m going to be paying four digits for a steak and partly because I’m dressed to the nines and wearing my killer heels. The place is Elbert’s Steak Room – “room” not house, because it’s a small, niche-market restaurant dedicated to those who prostrate at the temple of beef. A dim ambience belies the fact that the space used to be a call-center office, and in the early evening glow, the lights from the opposite buildings cast a soft luminosity around us. (It’s a completely different vibe during the day, which is why the Steak ...

Part 1 Part 2 Note: Before Manila, Jakarta was the first place I ever thought of as home. It was there that I lived for almost seven years from 1981-1987 -- I was 7 when I arrived and 13 years old when I tearfully bade goodbye to a country that had been so good to me. Twenty years later, I’m now 33 and married, living the next chapter in my life. This is the story of my journey back to Jakarta, my Jakarta. Indonesian cuisine is much more than just sate, nasi goreng and mie goreng, although no one would’ve guessed it from the vast amounts of those dishes I consume during my Jakarta visit. Blame it on my memories. Indonesia’s unique cuisine is still largely unknown to the outside world, a product of many borrowed cooking styles and ingredients. The Arabs and Indians brought along their spices and martabak (see Jakarta Part 2) and the Spanish introduced the Indonesians to a lifelong affair with chili. But it was the Chinese who had the greatest impact of all: they introduced now-Indonesian staples such as mie (noodles), soy sauce (which becomes kecap manis when sugar is added), ...

Jakarta, Indonesia: Part 1 Jakarta, Indonesia: Part 3 Note: Before Manila, Jakarta was the first place I ever thought of as home. It was there that I lived for almost seven years from 1981-1987 -- I was 7 when I arrived and 13 years old when I tearfully bade goodbye to a country that had been so good to me. Twenty years later, I’m now 33 and married, living the next chapter in my life. This is the story of my journey back to Jakarta, my Jakarta. There are several foods that I’m tracking down while here in Jakarta, foods that I ate when I lived here and grew to love. How does one begin to describe what it’s like to once again eat long-cherished fare – food that is separated from me by time and distance? Fanta Merah The first thing I seek out when arriving in Jakarta is the soft drink of my youth, Fanta Merah (Fanta Red). The red stands for rasa strawberi (strawberry flavor) although one swig of this and no one who’s ever eaten a fresh strawberry will be persuaded to believe that. As expected of anything that’s strawberry “flavored,” Fanta Merah is ...

Jakarta, Indonesia: Part 2 Jakarta, Indonesia: Part 3 Note: Before Manila, Jakarta was the first place I ever thought of as home. It was there that I lived for almost seven years from 1981-1987 -- I was 7 when I arrived and 13 years old when I tearfully bade goodbye to a country that had been so good to me. Twenty years later, I’m now 33 and married, living the next chapter in my life. This is the story of my journey back to Jakarta, my Jakarta. Jakarta is one of those cities that has a trademark smell: the unmistakably sweet and spicy aroma of kretek, clove cigarettes. They look like ordinary cigarettes, white and slim, (although I’ve seen some that are slim and dark brown), and they also contain tobacco, but in typical Indonesian fashion, they are stuffed with ground cloves in addition to a hundred other nuanced flavors from fruit to liqueurs. It’s this smell that assails my nostrils when I step off the plane and instead of wrinkling my nose, I smile. It’s good to be back. Jakarta is the capital of Indonesia, the world’s largest archipelago. No one really ...

First, you must know that it’s pronounced Son-JA, hard “j,” and not Son-YUH. As Sonja herself explains it, “My mom’s name is Sonia with an ‘i’ and she made me her ‘junior’.” Now that we’ve got that cleared up, let’s go about clearing up the other issues as well. Sonja (remember, hard ‘j’ now,) Ocampo, is the owner of Cupcakes by Sonja, the contemporary bakeshop that ushered cupcakes into the mainstream consciousness of Filipinos. Considered the – dare I say – vanguard of a trend that was and continues to be huge in North America and Australia, she’s unwittingly become the catalyst of a local cupcake craze, igniting a furor for them that shows no signs of letting up. Strange as it might seem to Filipinos whose favorite dessert-of-the-moment was once rum cake, the humble cupcake is humble no more. I have never written about Cupcakes by Sonja on this blog, never even mentioned it in fact. Sonja tells me that I’m the only blogger she contacted several months before her store opened – she was asking for help to “spread the word” about her little cakes. I ...