The start of my Paleo

I’ve been keeping a low profile on my blog to help myself recover from an overly acidic stomach. Somehow, food blogging and the like made me want to hide in the comforts of my bed and stay there.

I was placed on a strict diet, banned from basically everything I loved. No dairy, no caffeine, no juices, no citrus, no tomato-based anything, no wheat, no mint, no liquor, nothing deep fried, nothing spicy or sour… And those are just the ones I can remember.

It was annoying and downright maddening at one point. I remember walking through the A-Fair of my university, almost in tears because I was hungry, in pain, and I couldn’t eat anything there.

My stomach was supposed to be on probation for two weeks and then it was to be decided upon on whether or not I was going in for an endoscopy.

Fortunately enough, I was getting better fast, thanks to the meds — which by the way, were incredibly strong. I got better fast and well, let’s just say that mom saw how miserable I was so she lifted my restrictions a few days early.

Yesterday I began eating whatever I wanted. I dove straight in with milk, frozen yogurt, tomatoes and coffee scattered throughout my day — clearly something I shouldn’t have done. Although I’m grateful that I didn’t have another acidic episode, it made me realize that dairy really might be my real problem. Yes, my stomach churned a few times. 

And so marks the start of my Paleo diet. I’m doing it with a friend and today marks our first step into primal eating.

Made a stack of mini Paleo-friendly pancakes (1 banana and 2 eggs) with a side of almonds for breakfast.

I’m quite excited actually. I’m tired of feeling bloated thanks to all the acid build up after consuming dairy. I’m tired of having to load up on carbs and feeling blegh. Oh, and an added plus is that it helps me lose weight too, because seriously, the amount of wheat and dairy that I used to consume is preposterous.

But just like everything else, moderation is key. My friend, Jes, and I are allowed three cheats every week until the 1st of March. We’ve actually even upped it by placing a bet on our goal weight. Classic.

Tokyo Cafe’s Ten-Ju, Tokyo Boneless Chicken, and Tokyo Afogard

Fusion restaurants are tricky. They can either be really good or fall flat and lose the essence of the cuisines involved.

I’ve done a review of Tokyo Cafe before and was pleased with the dishes ordered at that time. So here’s another round of plates ordered during my second visit.

Ten-Ju (P248). 5 out of 5 on the DO scale.

Deep fried prawns chucked in at the right temperature of oil and taken out not a second too late. It makes for a non greasy plate of tempura and an overall light and pleasing dish. I’m not a big rice eater anymore — thanks to my diet — but I was fairly pleased with this cheat meal of mine.

Tokyo Boneless Chicken (P207). 4 out of 5 on the DO scale.

It’s chicken generously rubbed (I think) with black pepper and rosemary then slathered with gravy after. A new way of serving up black pepper roasted chicken, if I do say so myself. Rotisseries, why don’t you add this to your menu?

Tokyo Afogard (P125). 4 out of 5 on the DO scale.

Quite honestly, I had no idea what a Tokyo Afogard meant at the start. But I guess that’s where I get to be a bit adventurous with my food — being unfamiliar with names on the menu and getting a (hopefully) delightful surprise in the end.

Tokyo Afogard is basically ice cream in espresso. Since full cream is used and not milk, the result is a thicker consistency upon pouring the espresso into the bowl. This really hit the spot for me. It’s an idea for Starbucks branches that sell pints of their ice cream.

 

Tokyo Cafe
SM The Block
SM MOA
The Venice Piazza
SM Megamall
Robinsons Cybergate Plaza

Flourishing

“Ironically, after the Spirit descends upon them at Pentecost, they burst forth from that room, go to different parts of the world, and some never see each other again, but have genuine community.”

I was reading for my Theology151 subject when I came across this statement. I told myself I’d blog after making my paper but something about this excerpt struck a chord in me, one that reminded me of my immersion experience.

It’s sad to think that I might never come across the same faces all together at a time again. It’s even more sad to know that while I sit on my gray padded computer chair, typing on my MacBook and thinking about tomorrow’s requirements, the people I’ve met at GK Tala and Malaria are worrying about whether or not they’d be able to make ends meet for the coming days.

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In three days, I’ve found that I’ve left a piece of my heart in those communities — with both the families I’ve interviewed and with my own little Pan de Coco group of friends.

It’s such a beautiful thing to be overflowing with love. Love of the genuine kind. The one that doesn’t judge, the one that welcomes with open arms, and the one that asks to be paid forward… Because everyone needs to experience this kind of happiness at least once in their lives.

Ask me something?

Ask.fm’s gaining a following, as witnessed on my Twitter feed. I’d jump on the bandwagon, but I can’t really differentiate it from Formspring — of which I already have an account in. Instead, I’ve decided to put my Formspring account on public again.

If you’d like to entertain me with a few questions, click here.

Just a quick reminder: rudeness will not be tolerated.

My first love. Well, one of them anyway.

Not a lot of people know this about me, but I’m actually a bookworm at heart. As a primary school girl in Singapore, I spent most of my afternoons at the Bedok community library. Back then, the most important thing in my wallet wasn’t my money but my library card. I’d borrow four books at a time, always making sure that I was prompt in returning them before their due date.

My parents were always one to spoil me with books. Growing up, I was only allowed to choose one toy from Toys”R”Us and one pretty dress from Isetan. But MPH and Borders — two of the then well known bookstores of Singapore — were heaven for me. Most kids liked being left at the playground areas of the mall, but nope, I was pretty different.

I was the one running towards the bookstore, hand clasped around my parents’ telling them to hurry up because I saw the newest books of Enid Blyton on display at the window.

I was the one begging them to leave me at the bookstore, after promising that I wouldn’t talk to strangers, and that I’d stay in one spot with a handful of books to read.

It’s funny how old habits die hard — if they really do die at all. Twenty-one years of age and I’m still the same bookworm that I once was, only now I’ve learned to balance that with social gatherings and Forever21 shopping trips.

I have to admit though, there’s still that familiar rush of excitement whenever I enter a Fully Booked store — especially the branches located in Eastwood and High Street. My eyes still skim through titles with my fingers following daintily along, as if touching the cover of a book were to impart a bit of magic upon my soul.

Twenty-one years of age and I’m still longing to be a kid in elementary school, one who won’t be judged if she sits, bum flat on the floor, with a tower of books next to her knee.

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Last year, I made an investment to save up for a Kindle, allowing myself more space in my room. It’s quite a best friend of mine really and I could spend an entire day getting lost in my treasury of ebooks — most of which have been given to me by generous friends. It’s because of my Kindle that I’ve developed a habit for noting titles I’d like to read in the near future. All I have to do is look for them online (Amazon gift cards are a blessing) and wait for them to appear.

It’s different for classics and coffee table books, of course. Now those are what my trips to Fully Booked are for. I actually think I can form a coffee table with the amount of books I already have. Now that’s what you call intellectual stimulation! (Or you know, maybe hoarding.)

Next up on my list are these babies:

I had a whole book case devoted to Archie comics before. Although I’ve given most of the collection to my little cousins, I have a feeling these editions will stay with me for the long run.

Anything Bourdain, Steingarten, or Zimmern. ‘Nuff said.

I honestly believe I’d be a happier person if I had all the Lonely Planet books at my disposal.

Time to save up some more, Roxci!

Banapple’s Chocolate Chip Walnut Pie

Chocolate Chip Walnut Pie (720). 4.5 out of 5 on the DO scale.

I’ve grown an insatiable fondness for sweets over the past few months. My eyes have lingered over one too many dessert tables, pupils dilating with every plate of anything with caramel, chocolate, or marshmallow icing.

Banapple’s Chocolate Chip Walnut Pie is a thing of beauty with its walnuts peeking out of a brown baked top. It’s sweet and crumbly and every bite is pure indulgence.

Don’t let your mood be dampened with hard-to-slice areas of the pie. A little arm power goes a long way in the hopes of attaining a chunk of the sinful chocolate center.

Banapple
Katipunan
Il Terrazzo Mall
Ayala Triangle Gardens
Alabang Town Center

In awe with the first few hours of 2013.

This New Year’s Eve proved to be one of the most intimate ones I’ve had. However, it’s also one of the best ones in my book. Although dad wasn’t here to celebrate with us, the fact that we had him on Skype made the night better.

Truth be told, I’ve always been one to wonder at grand family reunions. I haven’t had the chance to fully enjoy one because of the fact that I find myself at an awkward age in my family. I’m the youngest on my dad’s side and the oldest on my mom’s. Also, having grown up in a different country doesn’t make it any easier.

I’ve someone who treasures intimate gatherings though. Maybe that’s why I adore travels involving my immediate family of three. Because of our small size, we’re closer than others are. We know almost everything about each other and use this to our advantage whenever we joke around. Oh believe me, our taunts could go on for days on end.

The first few hours of 2013 have taught me to value this familiarity of intimacy — something I’ve long forgotten after being caught up with photos of grandeur in family reunions.

Quite frankly, I’d be more than happy to have this feeling for the rest of my year. There’s just nothing like it. It’s home.

I’m so happy that mom decided to wear the blouse I gave her. I used my hard-earned money in buying her that top and to know that she loves it makes the cherry on top of the ice cream.

Meet my auntay, the woman whose turons I go incredibly gaga for. Thank you for those 12 years of taking care of me. I love you, auntay.

Like owner like dog. I’ve gained a handful of pounds and so has my Butterball of a dog.

Handheld fireworks are always a mainstay in my family. We’d usually have more extravagant ones when my dad’s around though, since he’s the only one brave enough to actually light them. But me? I’d rather play it safe with sparklers.

Shot of the neighbor’s fireworks going up into the sky. Doesn’t it remind you of a certain movie?

The homily at the Mass reiterated the importance of looking at things with a child’s eyes, one that continues to be at awe with the wonders around her. Too often I’ve fallen guilty of taking so many things and people for granted. But I’m hoping this year will change all of that.

Happy 2013 from my family to yours!