Monday, July 30, 2007
Breakfast at Caffe Roma With Some Cutie Dogs Nearby
Saturdays, we often go to the cafe and have breakfast there. Husband's favorite is Caffe Roma. I am not much of a coffee drinker, so he orders for me this "hot coco with soya milk" (can't drink real milk coz am allergic to it). Likewise, at Starbucks and elsewhere, it's hot coco for me again and again. I don't get to drink those fancy Starbucks delights. Yikes!
At Caffe Roma, we normally stay outdoor, read our Time Magazine subscription and the San Francisco Chronicle, sip our drinks and eat our scones or tartlets. Nearby, dogs stay a few meters from us while their owners (who are regular customers of Caffe Roma) enjoy their time away from their pets even for a short while. These dogs are wonderful. They are well-mannered and quiet, too. A lot of them get their photos taken because they are just cute! Except for the white puppy here (he is two months old), the rest of the bunch is awesome. The whitey pup barks whenever the attention is given to the bulldog. He is jealous. Whoah!
Caffe Roma is owned by the Azzolini family, coffee roasters for three generations. After you've tasted their coffee, you'll be glad to know that you can order their coffee beans online.
At Caffe Roma, we normally stay outdoor, read our Time Magazine subscription and the San Francisco Chronicle, sip our drinks and eat our scones or tartlets. Nearby, dogs stay a few meters from us while their owners (who are regular customers of Caffe Roma) enjoy their time away from their pets even for a short while. These dogs are wonderful. They are well-mannered and quiet, too. A lot of them get their photos taken because they are just cute! Except for the white puppy here (he is two months old), the rest of the bunch is awesome. The whitey pup barks whenever the attention is given to the bulldog. He is jealous. Whoah!
Caffe Roma is owned by the Azzolini family, coffee roasters for three generations. After you've tasted their coffee, you'll be glad to know that you can order their coffee beans online.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Practical Beach Chairs: Back Pack Chairs at Costco
We purchased these chairs two weeks ago and since then, they have graced our small veranda in the city and have "walked with us" last night at the park where we decided to dine after I baked a crispy "Pan Pizza." This is a cool chair because it has a backpack at the back of the seater and a drinks holder on the right handrest. We walked with this chair, each of us carrying the load in our back.
We enjoyed the evening watching the people go by as they relaxed, walked their dogs and chatted in between hi's and hello's.
We had after a heartfelt meal as well while seated on these colorful beach chairs that was a good buy for us1! See- look!
Monday, July 23, 2007
NETI POT a.k.a. NOSE BIDET
The neti pot treatment is born from yoga, and uses a mix of sea salt and warm, non-chlorinated water. People who practice this treatment let the solution run from one nostril and out to the other. Rinsing the nose once a day with a nasal saline prevents sinus infections,help people with allergies, help those with sinus headaches and other problems associated with the sinuses.
Husband and moi have been doing the neti pot treatment for three months now. So far it works well for us, especially for me, who has perennial allergy since I was in my teen years. Ever since I started using the neti pot, I do not have anymore headaches and sinusitis associated with pollen allergy.
I know, it seems scary to use it at first. In fact, I freaked out the first time I saw my husband doing it. However, he encouraged me and so I tried it. But, boy what a difference it does make! Surely, it is not flattering at all to do it but if you consider your health, you should try this health routine. It's as natural as brushing your teeth daily! And after doing the neti pot treatment, you'd feel better as you are able to breath quite easily. No congestion. No clogging. Try it. It works!How to use the neti pot?
1. Pour lukewarm water inside the nose bidet. Do not use cold water as it would give you a feeling of drowning. Cold water would do that.
2. Add 1/2 tsp. of salt. Do not use Kosher salt!
3. Bend down and hold the bidet.
4. Put the bidet into your nostril.
5. Breath through your mouth as you pour the water from one nostril to another.
6. Blow your nose after you are done with each nostril.
7. Bend over forward to ensure there is no water left in your nose canal.
8. Blow your nose.
9. Presto, you're done.
10. Repeat as needed.
Husband purchased our two neti pots at home online. The first one he bought was a miniature pitcher-looking bidet in porcelain, made from China. The second one is the Rhino Horn Neti Pot Kit From Norway. We love this one better than the first for its industrial design as this works easily well when you pour water into your nostril. The porcelain one (as shown in the video below) is not easy to use. The Norwegian made from Norway should be the one to avail, if you plan to buy one. You could go to www.amazon.com.
Click the NETI POT VIDEO CLIP belw.Listen and watch this carefully. You will learn a lot. Enjoy!
Coming Up This Week: NORTH BEACH JAZZ FESTIVAL~ July 25-29
Click this link for details: North Beach Jazz Frestival
Friday, July 20, 2007
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BALLOON!!!
On July 21st, she was born and brought sunshine into our family. My late paternal grandma called her "mestiza" for her fine good looks as a child. She is also very talented and gifted which is typical of left-handed children. 
Today as an adult, she is excellent in whatever endeavor she is involved with~ be it multi-tasking for her family, doing her art (she is a professional artist), gourmet cooking, baking or just about anything. Truly, she is good at it and she gives her heart unto it. Compassionate and generous, she always has a space for everyone needing her time, space, and generosity,
Happy Birthday, little sister~BALLOON! Little Boy Blue (LBB)and I miss you so much. But we wish you the best! We may be far but near and wished we could celebrate your milestone with you! Good luck, God bless and Happy Birthday!
P.S. I wrote this in advance so you could read this as you are 15 hours ahead of us. We love you!
A Morning Time Of Remembrances
6:40 AM
In North Beach
UNIQUENESS
I remember growing up fighting for my rights. I had to literally scream out my lungs to be heard as a child. I was short and tiny, the lone little girl in ponytail and skirt, coming from a family where five older brothers controlled everything at playtime. Rough games turned me off because I am not a boy but somehow, I managed to learn how to kick in order to win. Nevertheless, as my brothers entered their teen years, they changed quite a bit and almost overnight, had become considerate of my space and me. They gradually improved and treated me like a “little woman” more than just the “little sister” they knew.
RESULT
Today, looking back at the whole perspective of my life, I realize why I am assertive and confident of my rights. It is because of my desire to be heard even at an early age.
SUMMER ADVENTURE
My brothers loved to go bird hunting. They would leave our house in Cavite at dawn and come back in the early evening with a bunch of dead birds in tow. They were very proud of their produce. The felt manly and grown up when they hardly even have hair in their legs yet.
Fishing is another thing. I do not know what kind of fishing rod they used. Nevertheless, all I remember is, it seemed just to be a homemade rod made of wooden stick or bamboo. They attached nylon string on it, add a hook then presto, a worm is sworn in to attract the fish.
To go fishing, my brothers never realy went elsewhere or farther than our home. All I knew was they would sit on top of the flat galvanized iron connected to our azotea (backyard veranda made of stones) where their feet hanged lose, pointing at the ground down below. There, they would fish at the rice field my maternal grand uncle owned. This happens during the wet season when the rain draws in a lot of water into the rice field making it to look like a man made river. Then, a school of fish from nowhere would emerge. You could see them swim in bird’s eye view. And when they catch something, they make a big fuzz about it.
“We caught some! Hey, everyone- come see! Look! Yipee!”
Then, they would all rush downstairs carrying the small bowl of fish; pass through the cemented stairway as they scream in excitement; go run to the back of the house; slide through the ground floor then finally, dropping off their butts in the nearby garage. There, they'd race again through the laundry room door to get through the kitchen; find the empty bottle of peanut butter resting inside the cupboard. Once they have it, tap water is poured inside this container. After a while, the fish is ready to swim and set free.
At the kitchen, the bottle is placed strategically at the center of the family's 12-seater table. There, we watch it to swim and struggle through suspended animation. In a day or two, the fish dies after seeing our ugly little monstrous faces~ taking our turn to vigil. Soon, it floats aimlessly like moving in circles. Moments later, the fish dies. I feel sorry looking back at this memory. I lament about it for for about an hour when I was about five or six years of age, not quite ripe to understand what it was all about.
I, ME, AND MYSELF
Summer time also meant playing times with my dolls and miniature pans in terra cotta. I liked the "pretend play" of being a wife and a momma at an age where girls attend nursery school. I cuddled my doll gently to sleep. I caressed her face while she opens and closes her deep set of blue eyes. My doll had thick, straight mane and a fringe that was jet black and shoulder length in style. She was beautiful a Caucasian doll. How weird it is today to think that for an Asian child like me, I had an American doll at that time. Times change. Now we most likely are to patronize our own.
To my family's credit, I owned an iron made of tin, one that could open up and accommodate some charcoal to fire it. Even though I knew how to do it, I never did because I was afraid and forbidden to do so. I never broke rules at that age (before my primary years in elementary) and only later did I know I could get what I want if I said so!
My ironing board mimics the real thing although it is a mini in size. It was made of wood and foldable, too. I loved pretending my iron was heated while I ironed a hanky on the ironing board. At that time, I only wanted to iron flat fabrics like it because it was such a complex thing to deal with at an age when struggling to hold a pen is like holding a light post filled with oil.
ICE CREAM MAN
My other thoughts on childhood included those times my brothers would buy Popsicles in strawberry flavor. I thought it was neat to see on how it changes its color from deep strawberry or cherry red to something lighter in shade. And all is dependent on how intense is the way you suckle your Popsicle! In truth, they did not really taste that great to me but during those times, it seemed so. We enjoyed it tremendously when the ice cream man rings his bell in the neighborhood to announce his presence. All is nostalgic to me. He has a trick he played along with all the kids in the neighborhood. We were amused by him. He was smart and friendly, always had a funny look on his face that is just so wholesome. I think his name was Mang Pepe (Mr. Pepe) or may be I am just dreaming. But as I recall it vividly, he was dark, petite and slim, always smiling with black hair that is wavy. With him, he brought several pieces of glasses. Some, may be six ofthem, he would neatly arrange on top of his ice cream box with wheels. The glasses are filled with water. If you shoot a coin in any one of them, you win a price of 5 cents or you get a Popsicle as an option. The gap to shoot your coin is like 1 1/2 meters from the ice cream box made of wood. As kids, hitting to shoot a coin was like winning a lottery! Relatively, one of my brothers was good in this coin play. I remember him handing me over a Popsicle or two as a freebie because he won! And then again one time, he did it once more and won! I felt sorry for the poor ice cream vendor.
BTW, the strawberry Popsicles had sweet black beans as topping. We munched them and smiled with our toothless grin that simply say we loved it!
I am delighted this morning, to look back in time, at a chapter in my life, when all is easy and carefree.
TO BE CONTINUED...
NOTE: The house shown here is the house where I grew up and spent most of my adult life before I moved out to start a career elsewhere.
In North Beach
One thing nice about coming from a big family is you have a lot of company in terms of growing up. Family time meant playing games with your siblings, meal times with them, cultivating camaraderie, enjoying conviviality, and spending torture times as well when your folks deliver their monologues because one of you has broken "the family law." The worst timing is at dinner time when the food is fabulous and you can't do much but be still because if you make a noise you might be in a far worse scenario than this.
To my family, food is everything. It brings the family together. Dining is a celebration of life. Today, I thought on how much I miss this old family gathering when we conglomerate in the kitchen (or in the dining room) and have our meals together while sharing bits and pieces of anecdotes over a banquet of food we all loved to eat.
UNIQUENESS
I remember growing up fighting for my rights. I had to literally scream out my lungs to be heard as a child. I was short and tiny, the lone little girl in ponytail and skirt, coming from a family where five older brothers controlled everything at playtime. Rough games turned me off because I am not a boy but somehow, I managed to learn how to kick in order to win. Nevertheless, as my brothers entered their teen years, they changed quite a bit and almost overnight, had become considerate of my space and me. They gradually improved and treated me like a “little woman” more than just the “little sister” they knew.
RESULT
Today, looking back at the whole perspective of my life, I realize why I am assertive and confident of my rights. It is because of my desire to be heard even at an early age.
SUMMER ADVENTURE
My brothers loved to go bird hunting. They would leave our house in Cavite at dawn and come back in the early evening with a bunch of dead birds in tow. They were very proud of their produce. The felt manly and grown up when they hardly even have hair in their legs yet.
Fishing is another thing. I do not know what kind of fishing rod they used. Nevertheless, all I remember is, it seemed just to be a homemade rod made of wooden stick or bamboo. They attached nylon string on it, add a hook then presto, a worm is sworn in to attract the fish. To go fishing, my brothers never realy went elsewhere or farther than our home. All I knew was they would sit on top of the flat galvanized iron connected to our azotea (backyard veranda made of stones) where their feet hanged lose, pointing at the ground down below. There, they would fish at the rice field my maternal grand uncle owned. This happens during the wet season when the rain draws in a lot of water into the rice field making it to look like a man made river. Then, a school of fish from nowhere would emerge. You could see them swim in bird’s eye view. And when they catch something, they make a big fuzz about it.
“We caught some! Hey, everyone- come see! Look! Yipee!”
Then, they would all rush downstairs carrying the small bowl of fish; pass through the cemented stairway as they scream in excitement; go run to the back of the house; slide through the ground floor then finally, dropping off their butts in the nearby garage. There, they'd race again through the laundry room door to get through the kitchen; find the empty bottle of peanut butter resting inside the cupboard. Once they have it, tap water is poured inside this container. After a while, the fish is ready to swim and set free.
At the kitchen, the bottle is placed strategically at the center of the family's 12-seater table. There, we watch it to swim and struggle through suspended animation. In a day or two, the fish dies after seeing our ugly little monstrous faces~ taking our turn to vigil. Soon, it floats aimlessly like moving in circles. Moments later, the fish dies. I feel sorry looking back at this memory. I lament about it for for about an hour when I was about five or six years of age, not quite ripe to understand what it was all about.
I, ME, AND MYSELF
Summer time also meant playing times with my dolls and miniature pans in terra cotta. I liked the "pretend play" of being a wife and a momma at an age where girls attend nursery school. I cuddled my doll gently to sleep. I caressed her face while she opens and closes her deep set of blue eyes. My doll had thick, straight mane and a fringe that was jet black and shoulder length in style. She was beautiful a Caucasian doll. How weird it is today to think that for an Asian child like me, I had an American doll at that time. Times change. Now we most likely are to patronize our own.
To my family's credit, I owned an iron made of tin, one that could open up and accommodate some charcoal to fire it. Even though I knew how to do it, I never did because I was afraid and forbidden to do so. I never broke rules at that age (before my primary years in elementary) and only later did I know I could get what I want if I said so! My ironing board mimics the real thing although it is a mini in size. It was made of wood and foldable, too. I loved pretending my iron was heated while I ironed a hanky on the ironing board. At that time, I only wanted to iron flat fabrics like it because it was such a complex thing to deal with at an age when struggling to hold a pen is like holding a light post filled with oil.
ICE CREAM MANMy other thoughts on childhood included those times my brothers would buy Popsicles in strawberry flavor. I thought it was neat to see on how it changes its color from deep strawberry or cherry red to something lighter in shade. And all is dependent on how intense is the way you suckle your Popsicle! In truth, they did not really taste that great to me but during those times, it seemed so. We enjoyed it tremendously when the ice cream man rings his bell in the neighborhood to announce his presence. All is nostalgic to me. He has a trick he played along with all the kids in the neighborhood. We were amused by him. He was smart and friendly, always had a funny look on his face that is just so wholesome. I think his name was Mang Pepe (Mr. Pepe) or may be I am just dreaming. But as I recall it vividly, he was dark, petite and slim, always smiling with black hair that is wavy. With him, he brought several pieces of glasses. Some, may be six ofthem, he would neatly arrange on top of his ice cream box with wheels. The glasses are filled with water. If you shoot a coin in any one of them, you win a price of 5 cents or you get a Popsicle as an option. The gap to shoot your coin is like 1 1/2 meters from the ice cream box made of wood. As kids, hitting to shoot a coin was like winning a lottery! Relatively, one of my brothers was good in this coin play. I remember him handing me over a Popsicle or two as a freebie because he won! And then again one time, he did it once more and won! I felt sorry for the poor ice cream vendor.
BTW, the strawberry Popsicles had sweet black beans as topping. We munched them and smiled with our toothless grin that simply say we loved it!
I am delighted this morning, to look back in time, at a chapter in my life, when all is easy and carefree.
TO BE CONTINUED...
NOTE: The house shown here is the house where I grew up and spent most of my adult life before I moved out to start a career elsewhere.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Delicious Strawberries!
*CLICK PHOTOS TO ENLARGE*
I love Chinatown! Yeah. Why? Because nothing or nowhere else in San Francisco or elsewhere in northern CA could beat it for the prices of items and commodities for sale there. This is this largest Chinatown in the world (outside of Asia) if I may say it again.
After struggling with my jetlagged self, I finally got out of bed this noontime and went to hear mass today at Sts. Peter and Paul in my neighborhood. Then, I went to Chinatown. There, I was amused to see a variety of fruits for sale. But most of all I found myself buying strawberries, all ten pounds of them! The cost? $1.00 per box which is a pound each!
At home, I chose the big ones and kept them in separate containers and refrigerated them for serving later; the lightly smaller ones, I cut off the leaves and froze them.
As a family, we don't buy juice at the supermart. We make our own fresh juice- name it we do it! Actually, the husband of moi is the designated "food and beverage manager" in our household so he creates the juices for our morning and evening drinks which is quite refreshing!
He uses the Vitamix (heavy duty blender with 2 horsepower- it could liquify even the seeds of apples and lemon) we availed it at Costco months back. But for what we paid for it, it's worth every penny and it's quite useful in all our everyday needs in the kitchen. And since buying it, we have stopped purchasing peanut butter in Costco. Little Boy Blue makes our "homemade peanut butter" created according to his taste and preference. Why his'? Well, am not a peanut butter junkie like him! I only eat it when baked into peanut butter cookies. Haha! Otherwise, he eats it all by himself, mostly with jam with freshly baked baguette (by yours truly). This is all for now. Ciao!
I love Chinatown! Yeah. Why? Because nothing or nowhere else in San Francisco or elsewhere in northern CA could beat it for the prices of items and commodities for sale there. This is this largest Chinatown in the world (outside of Asia) if I may say it again.
After struggling with my jetlagged self, I finally got out of bed this noontime and went to hear mass today at Sts. Peter and Paul in my neighborhood. Then, I went to Chinatown. There, I was amused to see a variety of fruits for sale. But most of all I found myself buying strawberries, all ten pounds of them! The cost? $1.00 per box which is a pound each! 
At home, I chose the big ones and kept them in separate containers and refrigerated them for serving later; the lightly smaller ones, I cut off the leaves and froze them. 
As a family, we don't buy juice at the supermart. We make our own fresh juice- name it we do it! Actually, the husband of moi is the designated "food and beverage manager" in our household so he creates the juices for our morning and evening drinks which is quite refreshing!
He uses the Vitamix (heavy duty blender with 2 horsepower- it could liquify even the seeds of apples and lemon) we availed it at Costco months back. But for what we paid for it, it's worth every penny and it's quite useful in all our everyday needs in the kitchen. And since buying it, we have stopped purchasing peanut butter in Costco. Little Boy Blue makes our "homemade peanut butter" created according to his taste and preference. Why his'? Well, am not a peanut butter junkie like him! I only eat it when baked into peanut butter cookies. Haha! Otherwise, he eats it all by himself, mostly with jam with freshly baked baguette (by yours truly). This is all for now. Ciao!
Monday, July 16, 2007
Blueberry Cake
I tried out this recipe last year and I love this all at once because it is not too sweet,and has the right kind of spunk~ just perfect for freshly brewed hot cup of coffee!
Tonight, I decided to bake this once more before I went to take a long hot bath.
Here are the photos from the time I prepared it up to the moment I did put on the topping (blueberries) and the streussel. Enjoy!
Tonight, I decided to bake this once more before I went to take a long hot bath.
Here are the photos from the time I prepared it up to the moment I did put on the topping (blueberries) and the streussel. Enjoy!
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