Evil
Bitch
Chefs' Quarter first opened at Midtown, the expansion wing of Robinsons Place Ermita. Another branch is located in Eastwood Mall and this one at Atrium is the most recent.
We got there at 1:15 PM, which was a little bit late for lunch (don't you think?), and so we took a few moments in deciding to go for a la carte or the buffet. Prices average at P300-P400 a la carte and the buffet costs P495. The buffet usually ends at 2 PM but, according to Jermie (shoot! I'm not sure if that was it on his name tag), it continues on for as long as patrons kept coming back to the table. Here's the thing- we only asked him what time the buffet ends but he gave us an unsoliscited advice to go for the buffet if we ate too much. My sister's eyebrows arched on reflex. I beg my sister to ignore the waiter because I'd like to eat with happy thoughts.
We diverted our attention to the interiors instead, which was inviting and not intimidating. I like the play of colors on one side of the room- cream, adobe, and lemon green. Gold-framed mirrors against lemon green walls look good pala.
On the other side is a brick wall where they keep their collection of wine. Their Wine List include reds like Shiraz and Merlot, and Sauvignon Blanc if you wanna go white. They also have wines coming from Chile, Australia and South Africa.
Finally, we decided to go for the buffet not because we "ate too much" (actually, we do...) but because we want to taste a bit of everything. We had Lettuce soup and salad greens for starters. I also tried Salmon Carpaccio, but waited for my lemons in vain. The main courses include Roast Beef, Roasted Chicken, Mashed Potatoes on the side, Grilled Fish Fillet (Lapu-Lapu I suppose), and Paella.
Their Pasta Bar include Penne, Spaghetti, Fettucini, and you can have it cooked in either Pesto or Vegetable sauce. My sister is naturally repelled to anything green in food because she associates it with veggies so she went for the Vegetable sauce, which was red-colored, on her Spaghetti. The Vegetable sauce is actually just tomato sauce with diced zucchini (at least that was the only veggie I recognized) but our Vegetable sauce was a little bit too spicy. I'm sure I would have done a better job!
There were other dishes on the buffet table but I suppose, and I quote Simon Cowell when I say-- they were forgettable. Don't get me wrong; the food wasn't so bad but it wasn't extraordinary either.
Desserts are another story. Thank God for desserts! I'm not really sure if Chefs' Quarter's desserts are that good or any dessert is good for that matter. I tried Ube Creme Brulee (this is a must-try!), and Chocolate Fountain with fruits and mashmallows to dip (I can die now...). I remember a Sunday buffet I went to at Mandarin (a friend's GC made it possible) and their Dessert Bar occupied one wall of, say, Chefs' Quarter. The only regret I had when I was going through my sweet options was that desserts aren't appetizers.
To cap my lunch buffet experience at Chefs' Quarter, I'd say P495 ain't bad at all but it's not worth coming back to.
Try this one out:
First, here’s an excerpt from ‘Ang Pagbabalik ng’ Juan dela Cruz by Igan D’ Bayan…
“In one hazy, green-tinted day in the ’70s, just before the guys of Juan dela Cruz - Joey “Pepe” Smith, Wally Gonzalez and Mike Hanopol - were about to play a gig at the Luneta, Pepe found himself in a toilet at the Luneta Observatory, scribbling lyrics on a sheet of toilet paper.”
Ako’y nag-iisa
at walang kasama
di ko makita
ang ating pag-asa
Ang himig natin
ang inyong awitin
upang tayo’y magsama-sama
sa langit ng pag-asa
Ako’y may kaibigan
at s’ya’y nahihirapan
handa na ba kayong lahat
upang s’ya’y tulungan
Ang himig natin
ang inyong awitin
upang tayo’y magsama-sama
sa langit ng pag-asa
Ang himig natin
inyong awitin
ang himig natin
inyong awitin
ang himig natin
inyong awitin
A friend, once dear, told me that the hardest part about having a broken heart is dining alone.
On a cold January morning, I was Kitchen’s first customer, sans the broken heart, but it was very sad nonetheless. While waiting for my Salmon and consciously sipping my Pandan Iced Tea, I was not oblivious to the fact that I was the only diner in Greenbelt 3 with my beehind for a companion. So as not to stare straight ahead like a harlot waiting for her amore, I pretended to be occupied with writing. In truth, I was berating myself for not tagging Sudoku along.
Slowly I pick up the pieces of a broken heart,
Shattered by an unwitting shadow of days gone by. And
Even when pain is silenced by space and time,
It illuminates in the darkness of the night. Oh
Let a dying Casanova resurrect this heart of mine!
Slowly I pick up the pieces,
Gently I mend.
It started drizzling and for a seven-year old girl, it was like the ice cream man’s bell ringing. She started for the door but grandmother stopped her. “Ok,” said grandmother, “but only for a little while.” Mother, always the cool woman she was, simply smiled. Grandfather stared straight ahead but she knew him too well. He was her favorite of all.
The door flew open and freedom smelled of grass and wet earth. Children’s laughter, and teeth chattering, blended melodiously with the spatter of raindrops on rooftops nearby. And then it poured. It poured heavily. The voices grew louder. The spatter turned to splatter and there were splashes everywhere. The children jumped from one puddle to another joyfully, delighted in what the heavens have brought them. “’Tis not going to rain this hard tomorrow so let us steal as much time away from home as we can!”
Memories of a decade gone by, of thousands of isles away, and of innocence lost. Today, when it rains, it simply pours. I sit by the window, take a careful sip from my cup, and stare out, a bit annoyingly. Sometimes I catch myself hoping for children to be out there like we used to but I seldom find any. I muse at the thought of starting for the door like I used to and Grandmother would stop me like she used to, and jump in the rain and linger there as if it were my last.
On Saturday afternoon last week, my workmates and I braved the tides of Oriental Mindoro to enjoy the beaches of Puerto Galera, a getaway haven to most Manila urbanites. We took a 2-hr bus ride from the terminal at Taft Avenue to Batangas Pier. I thought we were lucky to catch the last ferry trip at 4:00 P.M. but, drat, we spent almost 2 hours in it. The ferry didn’t go straight to White Beach, where we were destined, but had to make a stopover at Sabang Beach. One of the passengers exclaimed he would be kissing ground when we reach “harbor”. We didn’t kiss ground but it felt like touchdown getting off the ferry and feeling the sand with the soles of my feet.
On Sunday morning, we went snorkeling and visited an island devoid of the party atmosphere found in White Beach. Since there were more than 10 of us, we only paid P150 each for a big bangka (pumpboat) to bring us to the site. There were a number of smaller bangkas waiting there, willing to bring you around the site for P70 each. All we had to do was hold on to the bangka’s sides and experience the beauty that lay down under. We saw corals, clownfishes, big blue starfishes, anemone, gigantic(!) sea urchins, and a lot more I could not name (unfortunately). Their magnificence right in my face…
We had dinner at Italian Pizzeria, a new addition to White Beach since I first visited it last year. The pizzeria is situated at the end of White Beach, just before you cross over to Tamaraw Beach Resort. My friend Migs texted me and said the view was not to be missed. I didn’t. The view from up where we dined was the perfect culmination for an enjoyable morning.
We had Aglio e Olio, Pizza de Pirata (with ham and Italian sausages), and Hawaiaan Pizza. The two pizzas were great, straight from the oven. The pasta on the other hand was not al dente; if it stayed 2 minutes more in boiling water, it would have been perfect! I thank Dave for giving the waitress special instructions for my Mango Shake– more of the mango fruit and a little bit of dairy. Apart from the fact that I am lactose-intolerant, my shake was better than Regina’s. I think each of the 5 of us shelled out around P300, not bad for a good meal. Oh yeah, we scored a slice of Tiramisu each (on the house!) as courtesy for Dave’s inconvenience; his cappuccino was the first to be ordered but served last.
We went back to the center of White Beach and found a not-so-sober Maki, tattooed and braided, calling on us to get a henna tattoo from this shop just beside the White Beach Restaurant. She made friends with the manager and artists. She got discounts for friends who decided to get a tattoo. J and Dave had theirs done permanently, and Nicca had a henna of her name on the ankle only for P100.
Later in the night, the people at a nearby bar, Miko’s Bar, got excited. We went to check it out and found a show that just got started. I don’t know what it’s really called except that it was hilarious and fun to watch– three drag queens doing impressions of Beyonce, Mariah, and Tina Turner. Dave, Regina, and Cathy decided to stay (and drink) and told me later the queens had a silly dance step of a popular station ID, “Makulay and buhay...”
By the way, don’t miss Mindoro Sling, it’s the cocktail while (you’re) in Galera. It’s a concoction of rhum, orange juice, mango juice, grenadine syrup, and Sprite, served with slices of apple. Get the pitcher if you’re with a small group, which makes it cheaper than ordering by the glass.
When it started to drizzle, I knew I had to call it a night. My Galera getaway ends the morning after, back to Manila I will and back to the corporate jungle I shall.
To Do/Go List next time I visit Galera:
* Tamaraw Falls
* Diving (for Oscar)
* Drink, Drink, Drink
Last night
Your eyes were like the setting sun
Still and distant
They sank over the horizon
As the night embraced me
Into your dark spell
Last night
I drank wine
From your intoxicating mouth
Your lips supple like grapes
Of red and satin thirst
I drowned in your abysmal kisses
Tonight
I stare at white sheets
And close my eyes
Visions of your naked skin appear
Like dandelions from the midnight sky
Brush my chest with subtlety
Tonight
I caress your hair
When dreams beset me
Like a dark river your hair
Flows through my body
And bathe me with temptation
Tonight
I close my eyes
And await your silhouette
Dreams of naked promises
Of pillowing and stained sheets
Your starlit eyes and venomous lips
The night
My abyss of secrets and dreams
Eyes closed from the tempest
Unlit room and shadowy blanket
I wait for my midnight visitor
Every night, like the night before that.
- Shogunoka, 11/2008
Christmas, this year, could well be the loneliest so far.
Imagine this, spending Noche Buena alone in your apartment when every year you fly home to the comforts of family and good food. This year,though, you stay put because you have to work.
Imagine this, you brave Shaw Boulevard’s hell, er, traffic to get yourself a fine bottle of Merlot (yes, you’re beginning to enjoy wine but, admit it, you can only distinguish between white and red), prepare Tuna Marinara (the peso wasted on Yummy ain’t a bad thing), and belch a few high, albeit annoyingly shrill, notes in the shower, only to end up sweating and trying to figure out how in sweet Jesu(!) will you pop that cork off the bottle (you DID consider whacking the top off instead) with your non-Herculean strength.
Imagine this, dozing off to sleep at nine in the evening, forgetting to call your dear family, as tradition dictates, and making up a really good excuse in the morning why you haven’t called. ‘I really tried but I kept getting “Service is not available.”‘ Yeah right!
Oh, there was no reason you had to be alone on Christmas Eve. It’s just that, you had all the reasons you were alone. Figured?
Hey, (aren’t you) sOoo looking forward to New Year’s Eve and what loneliness it has to offer?…