sizzling sisig in the city of angels

The first time I heard about the original sisig in Pampanga was early last year when I was in Baguio while touring our Dutch guest with my officemates. Over a low-budget dinner somewhere, I remember being distracted by the breaking news on TV about this old lady who was killed by then unidentified assailant/s. Her only claim to fame was being Aling Lucing, as in Aling Lucing whose kitchen produced the original sisig.

And then a couple of months ago, I watched clips from Anthony Bourdain’s first time in the Philippines. A part of his adventure was tasting sisig in Pampanga, from Aling Lucing’s too.

So the foodie in me made it my dream to go and see this place if and when I go to Pampanga. It finally happened yesterday.

After attending the launch of Road Trip, a book for YP by Ru dela Torre that I edited, from Sindalan, we drove to Angeles to eat dinner at the famous sisig place. Before going there, I was already warned that the place wasn’t airconditioned, that there might be drinking sessions, etc. I didn’t mind at all. Nothing could dampen my excitement.

So in the chill of the night, along that stretch of road, with grilling isaw and chicken on the side, I and three Kapampangans ate sisig from Aling Lucing’s. The food was OK. Relatively huge chunks of meat were served on sizzling plates. But truth to tell, there was nothing really spectacular about the the dish, if I may compare it with the other versions I have tasted from Gerry’s and Gilligan’s. But I guess what made it special was the fact that I dined in the place where one dish was born. That was enough to make me enjoy eating this signature Filipino creation.

But thinking about it now, it might not be the gustatory experience that will stick in my mind several days from now. Most probably, it will be the kindness and hospitality of people—some I’ve met  for the first time—who made me feel welcome in the land of tocinos, sisig and missing H (or extra H, in some cases!). [Imagine, the hosts negotiated NLEX and SLEX just to bring me safely home to Bicutan (at 12mn!). The lady next to me in the pic? She's one indefatigable driver!]

Going back to the dining experience, in the end, it’s not really the smell, taste and the texture of food. It’s who we eat with. So Aling Lucing, I’m sorry if you will come  second to what I will remember about my sizzling sisig dinner in Pampanga. But now at least I know what Anthony Bourdain felt when he ate at your place.

No more sleep for Lola

We’ve finally laid our Lola’s body in her final resting place at Manila Memorial Park several hours ago. The past few days have been busy for me and the rest of the family—talking to insurance and funeral home people, entertaining guests, making sure we have enough food to serve, among many other things. Now the stress is finally hitting my body hard. I have run out of adrenaline. I have aches all over. My body is crying out for sleep, more sleep!

My Grandma, on the other hand, needs no more sleep. During the last months of her life, most of her time was spent in bed, with her eyes closed. I seldom caught her awake (and the rare times she was, she wasn’t lucid enough to engage in conversations. Alzheimer’s.).  Even before she died, it has been a while since I last had a lengthy and meaningful talk with her. But it’s not yet too late. At least not in the light of eternity.

She is now in an infinitely better place where she’s on her feet, in the company of angels and those who have gone before us who have trusted the Lord as their Savior. There, she will experience no more pain, no more tears and will forever be enthralled by the love and glory of God whose Son Jesus Christ made it possible for her, and for everyone else who will be humble enough to admit their sinfulness, to be where she is now: Heaven.

 Let me end this post by shifting the spotlight on Him who needs no spotlight to highlight His awesomeness.

Thank You, Lord, for the hope and reality of a glorious life to come. Thank You that this—this life here on Earth—is not IT yet. What happiness we taste here now is bland compared to the sweet and lingering joy of being with You forever.

 Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?”

                                                                                                      John 11:25-26

To him who made me walk on the moon

The first time I danced willfully—that is, without coercion brought upon by my newness in the job (I danced folk years ago during my company’s anniversary celebration)—was when I was in Grade 5. During our Christmas party, I did the moonwalk. To the tune of “Billy Jean.” With my equally fanatic classmates who thought that Michael Jackson was the greatest singer alive.

And so it saddened me to learn early this morning while watching the news (This editor’s on leave to take care of her nephews) that the Gloved One passed away. The rest of the world can say what they want to say about his worsening appearance, his implication in child molestation cases, his bizzare bent on doing the outrageous and shocking, but for now, at least for this day, let us turn a blind eye to those shadows following him.

When God showered talent, (little) MJ was outside in his PJs getting all drenched. He was captivating to watch. You didn’t have to see him perform live, right before your eyes, to be mesmerized. He was the only one who made the world thrilled about watching an MTV of zombies and other supernatural and horrible creatures, with him in the middle, doing his signature moves, admired and copied by impersonators from Manila to Mars.

On this day and the next, thousands of bloggers will be blogging about him, twitters will be typing their tweets expressing their shock and sadness, while the remainder of the population awaits updates from CNN and Yahoo.

Here’s my drop in the remembering-MJ-bucket, my couple-of-hundreds words to immortalize him. To  the most talented performer who moonwalked on Earth, thank you for the music.

“Gone Too Soon” (written and performed by Michael Jackson)

Like a comet
Blazing ‘cross the evening sky
Gone too soon

Like a rainbow
Fading in the twinkling of an eye
Gone too soon

Shiny and sparkly
And splendidly bright
Here one day
Gone one night

Like the loss of sunlight
On a cloudy afternoon
Gone too soon

Like a castle
Built upon a sandy beach
Gone too soon

Like a perfect flower
That is just beyond your reach
Gone too soon

Born to amuse
To inspire to delight
Here one day
Gone one night

Like a sunset
Dying with the rising of the moon
Gone too soon
Gone too soon

Coming soon: My next book with DM

After writing several children’s books, a short romance novel, and contributing numerous articles and book reviews in magazines, I’ve decided to try my writing hand on something else: co-authorship.

Unknown to many of you (even to my closest friends), I have been writing with a popular Christian author based in the US. In his next book, which I helped him write, he shares the credit with me.

To know more about our book project and to discover the identity of DM, you may click here.

PS: It feels like April 1– April Fool’s– all over again.:) If you really know me, you’d understand this post and  smile with me.:) Life is too short. Seize the smiles! This special coauthorship “package” I saw in the blog of Michael Hyatt, Thomas Nelson’s top boss, to promote Miller’s upcoming book. The author, DM, and his friends,  thought of this viral marketing strategy (I and a thousand others being his instant co-author) and thinks it’s hilarious. No, not in a million years will I actually be able to cowrite with him. He doesn’t need any help, especially not from me.

To all my friends who thought for a moment this could be true, thank you for believing in me. I hope we can still stay friends even after this post.