Filipino food trucks in California so far (might be more!):

1. Hapa SF (Bay Area, CA)
2. Manila Machine (Los Angeles, CA)
3. *Senor Sisig (Bay Area, CA)
4. White Rabbit (Los Angeles, CA)

Filipino food carts in the Bay Area so far (might be more here too!):

1. Adobo Hobo
2. Lumpia Cart
3. Mali Num Num
4. Pot Pie Junkie

Filipino food trucks and carts, are an affordable and mobile way to get food to people stuck in cubicles all day and drinking their cares away at night. Not only that, I think the entrepreneurs behind them are the “new driving force” of Filipino cuisine to the “American masa” or people.

In the Philippines, food carts line the streets feeding the masa: students, workers, and tourists alike. And although Filipino food doesn’t line American streets in the same way, the appearance of Filipino trucks and carts during the past year or so is definitely a move in the right direction.

*I keep mis-spelling it “senior” sisig. No offense to the elderly!

“Zaito, mo matay ka na, piste ka. Para ka si Busta Rhymes, basta nag rhyme, puede na.”

-Loonie, from Cebu City. Now in Pasig City, Philippines.

Loonie FTW!! Slowly learning Tagalog more and more dahil sa iyo pare!

After a few weeks of looking for a new jacket to survive Daly City weather, it appears that jacket found me this morning!

I had the opportunity to meet Zar, founder of Pnoy Apparel, at a Filipino festival this morning in San Jose, CA. I had no idea they would be vending at the event, so finding them in the midst of looking for a new jacket was almost like divine intervention.

Zar gave me some eduction through their new cut-and-sew release called the “Veterano”, made in honor of the World War 2 Filipino vets who fought along side American GI’s but did not get their benefits for their sacrifice. Until President Obama signed the stimulus bill which had “tucked inside it” $195 million dollars for the 15,000 Filipino veterans who were still alive.

Zar noted that despite this, the red tape involved delays the repayments, so a percentage of proceeds from Pnoy Apparel’s Veterano jacket will be donated to a fund set aside for the Filipino veterans.

I don’t know if it was the camera or our darkness but somewhere in that photo is Zar and myself (sporting the new “Veterano” jacket. Online release soon!).

My first purchase from Pnoy Apparel was in 2006 with the “Keepin’ It Rizal” tee. Since then i’ve been checking out their site for the latest and greatest in meaningful, well-designed, and highly-detailed Philippine-themed streetwear.

Finally meeting the minds behind the store was not only refreshing, but it was inspirational. Zar turned out to be a humble and passionate entrepreneur, whose attention to detail and meaning was a lifestyle, and not just a means to make money. And when he told me it was getting better and better, year after year, I couldn’t help but imagine what he and Pnoy Apparel had in store. Thanks Zar, you guys are hella astig.

Visit them at Pnoyapparel.com!

Pa, ug wa ka na gawas wa ko kaibaw ug lisud ahong kalibutan ug di, basta… na gawas ka. Unya naay daghang tao gusto mo gawas pero di puede sila mo larga kai lisud kaayo.

Swerte jud ko, kay na gawas ka kay hantud karon, naay daghang tao gusto mo gawas padong sa United States, Europe, ug sa Middle East. Karon, kai naa ko dinhi, di jud ko mo estanby-estanby diri. Mo trabajo jud ko para sa imong sacraficio naho. Di jud ko mo kalimot sa imong hatag naho… your American dream.

Sincerely yours…
Albert Balbutin Jr.

This is what I look like when im NOT drunk. One can only imagine how the world would be like when I am. It isn’t pretty.

“Ayaw pag hubog ha” was something my mom always used to yell at me before I went out with friends. It means “don’t get drunk!”

She conditioned me real well and thanks to her (and several hangovers) i’ve decided to go on a temporary drought, even when im going out with friends who drink. Clubs however are a bit more difficult, especially when you’re supposed to be out having fun getting wasted.  Luckily, I figured out a few ways to stay away from alcohol when I wanted to, which saved me money at the club and water at the toilet bowl.

1) Enjoy cheap, virgin drinks. Shirley Temples are a biggie (7-Up + Grenadine) and they look like vodka crans so at least you look like you’re drinking. Plus they go no more than $4 in some bars and clubs where they charge $10 per shot!

2) Smile and talk. A lot! Its kinda tough for me to get a “natural high” sometimes, but if im out with close friends it isn’t so hard. Especially when you’re smiling ear-to-ear and talking about random things to drunk people. Its a blast!

3) Complement people. Telling a friend that they look freaking gorgeous transmits more of that “natural high” to others and yourself. Do it to strangers too, its the perfect ice breaker. There’s nothing like giving good vibes to other folks and then getting it back.

Those are the top 3 that work for me every time. Just stay happy and give “happy” for that natural high and you’ll be good to go the next morning, hangover excluded. If a friend keeps pushing you to drink, tell them to buy. Hey, its free and they usually don’t buy you another lol.

Thanks mom! Di na ko mo hubog =)

I found this interesting post about Juan Luna’s painting above here.

When I look at paintings, sometimes its easy to tell what the painter is trying to convey, especially when that painter is alive to explain it to you =P. Joey Velasco’s works are great examples.

But what about dead painters? That’s where all the facts end and the imagination and painting-whispering-deciphering begins.

Juan Luna’s “Parisian Life” is exactly that to me. A mystery whose answer, like beauty, may be in the eye of the beholder, different for each person looking at it.

Maybe I can buy the painting and do some uv scans or whatever. I hope they have an installment plan for the under-a-million price tag that’s on it though.

In other news, June 12th is Philippine Independence Day. Which is actually quite fitting knowing Juan Luna was an active participant in the revolution, let alone Jose Rizal’s BFF. I mean sheesh, Rizal is in this very painting.

I’ll be in San Francisco’s Union Square sporting my barong.

1. Hop on.
2. Pay by passing 8 or 10 pesos to the driver, say “bayad po” (my payment sir/ma’am).
3. Hop off.

Simple as that! And stop staring at that girl from Ateneo. She doesn’t like you! Or me! Oh wait they don’t ride jeepneys.

I have the reading speed of a 4th grader with an eye patch. Or child pirate, which ever description you prefer.

Just past page 24. Here’s an excerpt…

“The CBS anchorman was saying: ‘This could be as close as the twentieth century has come to the storming of the Bastille. But what’s remarkable is how little violence there has been.’

A small woman in glasses was shown talking to the people.

‘That’s Cory Aquino,’ Grapes explained to us.

The anchorman continued: ‘We Americans like to think we taught the Filipinos democracy. Well, tonight, they’re teaching the world.’ Helicopters land and soilders join the singing masses, everyone smiling.

Then Granma said, tears in her eyes: ‘We can go home.’”

*Sigh, I have yet to finish three other books. Yup im an ADD reader oh look a cat!

*Stole this photo from Amy Besa’s Facebook. Don’t sue me!

Thanks to Amy Besa’s class (part of ACF’s Symposium on Filipino food in San Francisco), I learned a few new (albeit obvious) things about Filipino cuisine:

1. Filipino food was founded on an insular diet of marine life, flavored with salt from the sea and citrus/sour fruits and plant life on land.
2. The “holy triumvirate” of Filipino food, which utilizes the above ingredients, consists of: Kinilaw, Adobo (don’t know what it was called before the Mexican/Spanish influence), and Sinigang.
3. The name of the province of Pangasinan practically means “from the salt.”
4. Last but not least, using Filipino food to educate the global community about Filipino culture.

Number 4 was important, that a culture’s cuisine is its greatest ambassador and tour guide. At the very least, it is a perfect (and tasty) introduction!

Indian curry, Italian gelato, Japanese sashimi, Ethiopian kitfo, Filipino ube, binagoongang rice, and breakfast silogs… are all items I can’t wait to tell people about.

With the help of immigrant families (and now the internet) Filipino food lands on the plates of homes and restaurants in far and distant countries. Food can be historians too, holding within each unique dish centuries of tradition that even contemporary chefs do not see in between the lines of their recipe books. Turns out that many rice farmers in the Philippines are growing rice whose dna has remained unchanged for thousands of years!

Now go and visit your local Filipino restaurant. And bring a friend or 5. What good is word of mouth advertising if it isn’t eating culture in the first place?!

Im so happy Mr. Jose wrote this letter, not only because it verbalizes what i’ve been feeling about Noynoy the past few weeks, but also because I have a new writer to learn more about.

An open letter to Noynoy, the new Philippine president, by Francisco Sionil Jose.

—————————-

Dear Noynoy,

You are now swamped with suggestions and advice, but just the same, I hope you’ll have time to read what this octogenarian has to say.

You were not my choice in the last election but since our people have spoken, we must now support you and pray that you prevail. But first, I must remind you of the stern reality that your drumbeaters ignore: you have no noble legacy from your forbears. It is now your arduous job to create one yourself in the six years that you will be the single most powerful Filipino. Six years is too short a time — the experience in our part of the world is that it takes at least one generation — 25 years — for a sick nation to recover and prosper. But you can begin that happy process of healing.

Bear in mind that the past weighs heavily on all of us because of the many contradictions in it that we have not resolved, whose resolutions would strengthen us as a nation. This past is now your burden, too. Let us start with the fact that your grandfather collaborated with the Japanese. Your father was deeply aware of this, its stigma, its possibilities. He did not leave any legacy because he did not become president. He was a brilliant and courageous politician. He was an enterprising journalist; he had friends in journalism who can attest to his effulgent vision, who did not profit from his friendship, among them Nestor Mata, Gregorio Brillantes — you may consult them. I cannot say I did not profit — he bought many books from my shop and when he was in Marcos’s prison, your mother brought books from my shop to him.

Forgive me for giving you this unsolicited advice. First, beware of hubris; you are surrounded by panderers who will tell you what is nice to hear. You need to be humble always and heed your conscience. When Caesar was paraded in ancient Rome before the cheering multitudes, there was always a man chanting behind him: “Remember, you are mortal.”

I say to you, remember, the poor — some of them in your own hacienda — will be your ultimate judge.

From your comfortable and privileged cocoon, you know so little of our country and people. Seek the help of the best — and the best do not normally want to work in government and neither will they approach you. You have to seek them.

Be the revolutionary your father wanted to be and don’t be scared or wary of the word “revolution.” It need not be always bloody. EDSA I was not. Your father wanted to destroy the most formidable obstacle to our progress — the Oligarchy to which you and your family belong. To succeed, you have to betray your class. If you cannot smash the oligarchy, at least strive to have their wealth develop this country, that they bring back the billions they stashed abroad. You cannot do this in six years, but you can begin.

Prosecute the crooks. It is difficult, thankless and even dangerous to do this. Your mother did not do it — she did not jail Imelda who was the partner in that conjugal dictatorship that plundered this nation. Watch her children — they were much too young to have participated in that looting but they are heirs to the billions which their parents stashed abroad. Now the Marcoses are on the high road to power, gloating, snickering at our credulity and despicable amnesia.

You know the biggest crooks in and out of government, those powerful smugglers, thieves, tax cheats — all you really need is guts to clobber them. Your father had lots of it — I hope he passed on to you most of it.

And most of all, now that you have the muscle to do it, go after your father’s killers. Blood and duty compel you to do so. Cory was only his wife — you are the anointed and only son. Your regime will be measured by how you resolve this most blatant crime that robbed us of a true leader.

And, finally, your mother. We loved her — she united us in ousting an abominable dictator. But she, too, did not leave a shining legacy for her presidency was a disaster. She announced a revolutionary government but did nothing revolutionary. She promised land reform but did not do it. And most grievous of all — she transformed the EDSA I revolution into a restoration of the oligarchy.

She became president only because her husband was murdered and you became president elect only because your mother died. Still, you are your father’s son and may you now — for the good of this country and people — scale the heights he and your mother never reached.

I am 85 and how I despair over how three generations of our leaders failed! Before I go, please let me see this unhappy country begin to be a much better place than the garbage dump our leaders and people have made it. You can be this long awaited messiah but only if you are brave enough and wise enough to redeem your father’s aborted promise.

Hopefully yours,

F. Sionil Jose

—————————-

To put it succinctly, don’t fuck this up.