Sunday, September 30, 2012

Past Food

When our friend, Peter Ting, invited my wife and I (and another friend, IreneDy) to have lunch in Chinatown I was excited! My thoughts immediately flew back to the late 1970s when I was working at Allied Bank in Escolta which is within walking distance to where we were headed now.

I remember one of my officemates, Edgar Maldonado, bringing this mouth-watering pastry to our workplace almost on a weekly basis. A couple of years later our office moved to the Makati district and with that came the end of our once a week affair with this fabulous food.

"Do you know a place where we can get kuchay-ah?" I asked Peter as we crossed Jones bridge.

"Of course!" he replied. 

Our lunch at Chuan Ki was sumptuous (and cheap!). It was capped by a lotus seed filled mooncake. Normally mooncakes have mashed mung beans as their filling and it was a pleasant, tasty delight to discover that lotus is much more delicious.



After lunch we strolled the streets of Chinatown. We made a short stop at Lord Stow's where I bought 6 pieces of their world famous egg tart. 


Next stop was the kuchay-ah store. Cynthia warned me that it may not be the same as what I had decades ago so we played it safe and just bought two pieces.

The drive back home was full of nostaglia as we passed my old high school which looked so much different now than when I was studying there. The roads we took were the roads that I walked on 50 years ago and frankly I couldn't recognize them anymore. So much have changed - they were now more crowded and noisier. Half a century ago when I walked from school, these streets were relatively quiet and with only a few people sharing the road with me. The sidewalks were wide and clean. My classmates and I would run for a kilometer without bumping into anything. Sadly that's no longer possible now. Street vendors and hundreds of pedestrians ply the sidewalk while tricycles, jeepneys and private vehicles battle for road space in trying to get to their respective destinations.

We eventually got home after almost two hours of negotiating Manila's traffic. Later that evening, I prepared myself, taking a deep breath while two tantalizing kuchay-ahs lay in front of me. I tried to remember the taste of what my officemates and I shared four decades ago. Even the shape of the pastries before me does not connect to the visions of the past. I looked at my wife who was curiously staring at me. I held one of the kuchay-ahs and took a bite. Cynthia's eyes grew wider as I savored the strange taste of sauteed meat and veggies inside the bread-like crust.



"Well?" my wife couldn't bear the suspense any longer.

"It's delicious" I confirmed to her, "but this was not how I remember it. Perhaps I have forgotten what the past food tasted like."

Nevertheless two modern day kuchay-ahs still passed through my mouth rather quickly.

Monday, September 17, 2012

What a Korean drama did to me..


I was slouched in my chair staring at my computer screen. My wife, Cynthia, was reclined at our bed eyes fixed on the same computer screen as well. We were watching the last episode of Bridal Mask, a Korean drama series. The story was about a zorro-like figure who was a part of a group of rebels fighting against the Japanese-controlled government. We were not expecting much because based on our previous experiences (yes, we have watched lots of Korean dramas) the finales were usually quite disappointing.

Until I saw this one particular scene. I don’t know why I was so touched. Perhaps it was because of the superb acting done by both actors. They were not even the main characters in the story. The girl, Ueno Rie, was a Joseon (that’s what they call  the country before it became known as Korea) gisaeng (a hostess). She was adopted by a powerful Japanese who controlled the top officials in the government. 

Bridal Mask has just killed her “father” who wanted her killed for her betrayal. She had known the real identity of the masked hero (whom she loves, by the way) but did not inform her father, Bridal Mask’s mortal enemy. Now he is dead and the hero wasn’t reciprocating her feelings for him.

The guy in the scene is Katsuyama, the Japanese body guard of Ueno Rie. The scene unfolds as their car came to a stop. Katsuyama stepped out, got Ueno Rie’s suitcase, and then opened the door for her. They faced each other.

Katsuyama: Where are you going? Let me escort you. At least to where you are going to.

Ueno Rie: No. It would be better to part ways here.

Katsuyama: I will ask you for the last time. Like a shadow by your side as just a bodyguard. I will stay like that. Still…won’t that do?

Ueno Rie: Katsuyama, living a lifetime looking at someone who doesn’t love you is misfortune. I’m thankful all this time.

She then took her suitcase from him while he remained expressionless despite the heartache I know he was feeling at that very moment. Ueno Rie turned and walked away. After a few steps she stopped turned to face Katsuyama again.

Ueno Rie: Katsuyama! My name is Chae Hong Joo. Chae Hong Joo.

She told him her Joseon name. Her real name. Implying that a Joseon girl could never love a Japanese guy.

Katsuyama: Your name…I will forever remember it.

She turned and continued to walk away from him. Katsuyama still trying to maintain his stoicism pressed his lips together desperately holding back the tears that he won’t allow to flow.

And this was where I tried to hold back my own tears.

“Are you crying?” Cynthia asked. She must have heard my sniffles.

“ Um, no. I must be coming down with a cold.” I lied. But she knew that.