Chiq Boutique

Giving LACMA another chance

Chiqui — Mon, 30 Aug 2010 19:11:01 +0000

Hold the statue’s hand while I take your picture. He scanned the surroundings before timidly touching the statue’s fingertip, all the while reminding me that the guards may not like it. He is such a fearful child. My son was hesitant to get close to any artwork at LACMA (Los Angeles County Museum of Art). Poor thing. Our last visit did not really make us feel welcome. We were reprimanded four times by the museum guards. And I was thinking that it wasn’t such a good idea for them to give kids free memberships because LACMA is not a very kid-friendly place. They have to move slowly , talk quietly, and keep their hands to their sides. I was all stressed out trying to restrain my rambunctious children. I had made up my mind that museums are like mausoleums, unfit for creatures that are full of life.

Nothing fazes my four-year-old. She touched the sculpture just to annoy her older brother. I kept looking around, expecting a guard to pop out and tell us off.

Boone Children’s Gallery. This is a new addition to LACMA. I had my qualms about visiting LACMA again, but we went there last August 13, after my dental appointment. It was late in the afternoon and I wanted to wait out the rush hour traffic on the freeways. I didn’t want to bring the kids to a mall and have to listen to them beg for a racing barbie or a star wars action figure. In this place I didn’t have to spend a dime. My kids have free membership.

I announced that we were gonna be artists for an hour or two. My son proceeded to do what he does best. Whine. I pretended not to hear. We sat down. Across the table was a baby, in a high chair, imitating Jackson Pollack’s painting style. His mom was cheering him on. An artist-looking guy came over to welcome us and give us art materials. Our unease started to melt away. It was refreshing not to hear a brusque warning from a museum staff.

What did he say this was, again? Tempura paint? My son looked at me in exasperation, and chided me that tempura is for eating and not for painting.

My little girl just went down to business right away. I like it when people just do things without complaining. She painted a monster of some kind. Then she declared that she wants to be “a artist”.

My son’s masterpiece. Beautiful! It must be humpty dumpty wearing a ceremonial mask. I made something, too, but I threw it in the trash.

Nice place. People were happy here, especially those two old guys in the next table. They looked like little kids. With their faces all scrunched up in concentration, they wielded the brush like a musical conductor’s baton. Each time they finished a painting, they would hold it up and examine it with obvious pride. It was delightful to watch them.

By the time we had to go home, my son begged me to check if they have some medieval armors on display. We only found a samurai armor and he asked me to snap a photo of him beside it. There was no other armor aside from that so he suggested that we just look at some paintings instead.

No reprimands for us on that day. My kids have learned the proper way to behave around expensive art objects. I guess, they’re starting to acquire some culture.

Santa Fe Dam Sunday

Chiqui — Tue, 03 Aug 2010 10:08:54 +0000

I leave my kids by the water’s edge. The little girl wants to stay and look at the ducks. But they’re not really ducks. They’re Canada Geese, maybe the non-migratory kind. Under the dappled shade of a tree I spread my green blanket (which is actually a table cloth), pile up my old throw pillows, and stretch out on the ground.

The gentle breeze cools me down after an hour spent under the noonday sun. I had been keeping an eye on my daughter who was playing in the water. Santa Fe Dam Recreation Area has this awesome wading and spray pool for toddlers and preschool kids. Of course, maybe it’s not much compared to what they have at big water theme parks, but an entrance fee of two dollars per person is reason enough for me to give it an A rating.

The kids tire of watching the geese and join me in the shade. Little girl looks up at the sky while munching a cookie and declares: This is the life! The trees, the wind, and the river….. I couldn’t agree more with her. They regale me with detailed reports of how geese butts open and squirt poo into the water. The ten year old boy asks if he can drop a probe into the murky depths of the dam. Yes you can once you have saved enough money to buy the gadget. I wonder what mysteries he hopes to uncover there. I shake my head discreetly. My boy has lots of bright ideas. One time he told me that he wants to meet with George Lucas so he can give the filmmaker some suggestions for the next Star Wars.

My son whines that he is bored and asks if we can rent a paddle boat or a family cycle. Right on cue, a bell rings. A family cycle passes by, its cyclists huffing and puffing, all of them giggling. I know, those things are fun, but I don’t have enough money. Maybe next time when your dad is with us. Maybe you can even go fishing with him.

Just ride your scooter or go catch a dragonfly for now. He grumbles that they fly too high. Silly. You can’t catch them in flight. You have to stalk them the way a tiger stalks its prey. You have to be very quiet. Lie on the grass if you have to. And when they land, that’s your chance to get a hold of their tails. He goes off with his sister. When they spot some hovering dragonflies, they run after them, screaming at the top of their lungs, and not caring that they are disrupting another family’s soccer game. That’s not the way to do it, I shout. Realizing that they are not going to heed my advice, I return to my reading.

Soon they are back. Their faces are downcast. The boy badgers me that he wants to go exploring. Give me five more minutes and we’ll have a look at that bush on the other side of the water. Are those a bunch of herons gathered there? The boy and girl leave me alone. I put my head down on the pillows to enjoy my last few moments of quiet. My mind starts to enumerate the tasks I have waiting at home: wash dishes, cook fish, arrange papers, fold the laundry. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. My mind is abuzz with a million details. I have less than five minutes of quiet left. Do I really want to spend it making a mental TO DO list?

Who cares about those chores?!! I’m loving this wind on my face. Today is a day for rolling on the grass.

Honing My Haiku Eye 6

Chiqui — Fri, 30 Jul 2010 03:10:56 +0000

foul mood and tyrant sun

vanquished, out of mind

bright pink tree!

Fave Place in Hollywood

Chiqui — Thu, 22 Jul 2010 20:23:30 +0000

Just a few blocks away from the Chinese and Kodak theaters, where they do the Oscars and the movies premieres, Hollywood Blvd. looks ugly and sleazy. You see adult video stores, wig and souvenir shops, adult movie houses, and liquor stores. Vagabonds and their shopping carts are a common sight. Go a little farther and you start seeing lots of small Thai restaurants.

Six or seven years ago, Wongduan, my friend from work, took me to lunch in Thai Town, east on Hollywood Blvd. For dessert, she introduced me to Bhan Kanom Thai. It is a tiny, colorful, and really quaint place that sells Thai sweets. They make most of the stuff they sell. So what you get there is something you won’t usually see anywhere else.

I like going there. It’s an adventure for me. I typically buy queer-looking items with names I can hardly read right. I dragged my husband there, too. He loved it, especially the small coconut cakes that they make in front of you. Their taste reminds him of the bibingka (rice cake) made in Mohon, Oton, Iloilo.

Just before my family’s big move to the suburbs, I visited Bhan Kanom Thai. In a way, I was saying goodbye to one of my favorite haunts in the city that has been home to me for almost a decade. I was feeling anxious and a bit sad about the forthcoming change in our lives. I bought a few items and went away comforted, excited to try all the strange stuff that I got.

Banana Candy. “How different is this from my favorite banana marbles of Biscocho Haus Iloilo?”, I wondered. I tasted one, then two, three, and four. It’s a bit different , but just as good. It has coconut milk. Now I don’t have to fantasize whenever I miss banana marbles.

The stuff on the the shelf above the banana candies are next on my list. I’ve forgotten what they are though.

Salty taro chips. I suppose they taste just like potato chips. They will have to wait til next time. I bought the sweet potato chips. My kids love them.

Colored puffed rice. Just like the stuff sold in the Dumangas (the town where I grew up) market, but this one has better packaging. I’m sure it’s just plain old Buti (puffed rice mixed with syrup and shaped into balls).

Rose Apple Candy. “What on earth is rose apple?”, I mumbled as I scrutinized the oval box. It tasted salty and sweet, much like the Kiamoy(preserved fruit). It’s okey, I guess. I’ve never really been a fan of salty-sweet candies. Then I focused on the label’s picture… Is it possible that rose apple is the tambis or the makopa of the Philippines? Illustration sure looks like it.

Ooops! Wave of nostalgia. I miss tambis, especially the tree that grows in my aunt’s yard in Dumangas. My mouth waters at the thought of red juicy fruit.

Tuesday at Barnsdall

Chiqui — Wed, 26 May 2010 20:29:16 +0000

Tuesday of last week was not a very good day for me. The usual motherhood drama had gotten me simmering like a pot of toxic brew for two days. I was ready to erupt at any moment. When I was done with my errands at the Hollywood/Vermont area, I dropped by Barnsdall Park. Stayed there for a couple of hours, hoping to let out some steam. There weren’t a lot of people there: just a man reading the paper, a jogger with a very loud ipod, a couple fussing over a little boy, and a white-haired old man stretched out under a purple tree. Very nice.

I dragged a metal chair to a sunny spot on the lawn and had lunch.

A bottle of root beer and 3 french macarons, which I had bought at the nearby Figaro Bakery and Cafe. Diabetes Delite!

When I had devoured my sweet treats, I walked around. It was pleasantly peaceful on a weekday. And look! There were scrap metal sculptures all around. Nice. So I breathed all these in, thinking that maybe the art might somehow seep into my subconscious and refine my boorish soul.

That’s the Hollyhock House, designed by a famous architect, Frank Lloyd Wright, for a an oil heiress. She later on donated the whole area to the city government, who turned it into a park. That picture above is not a very pretty one. It was a cloudy day and most of my pictures looked awful. Besides, I didn’t really feel like taking good pictures.

Hey, look! A beautiful flower. I like this better than the building. I wonder what it’s called….

Barnsdall Park is on top of a lone hill in the middle of busy city streets, sandwiched between Sunset Blvd. to the south and Hollywood Blvd. to the north. It is small, but very pretty. You have to go up a long flight of steps to reach it. The hillside is planted with rows of young olive trees. I’d like to be here in five to ten years and see how the mature trees would change the look of the place. Up there you get a good view of the Griffith Observatory, the Hollywood sign, and the City of LA. I took this picture around 2:45 PM. I was hurrying down the steps like Cinderella. It was time to go and pick up the kids from school. The air was filled with loud and shrill bird songs. Hummingbirds! I knew the sound . They were fluttering and singing among the olive trees. I had to stop and look around. I love the color of hummingbirds.

I was not so lucky so I consoled myself with these flowering weeds. They looked cheerful and delightful.

Picked up some not-so-dandy dandelions. My daughter goes crazy over them. I sat down for a while, taking more than twenty shots of these lowly flowers. Then it occurred to me. How silly I must look, sprawled on the hillside photographing some weeds from many different angles with my camera phone. I went LOL at myself. I know these pictures wouldn’t make it on the pages of National Geographic, but I went home with a spring in my step and a smile on my face. I felt my life force lighting up by several bars. Bring it on, kids! I’m ready for another day of the usual motherhood drama.

Flying Kites

Chiqui — Thu, 13 May 2010 21:17:02 +0000

The best things in life are not always free. Sometimes they’re cheap. Like that kite up there. It only cost me .99 cents at the 99 Cents Store. Flying it at the beach – priceless. I’m starting to sound like a credit card ad here, but it’s the truth.

It’s automatic. A grin pops up on your face when you look up at the kite you’re flying. Somehow, the thin string that connects you to that glorious, soaring thing in the sky makes you feel one with it. Flying a kite makes me feel birdlike. It lifts my spirit off the ground.

And while I stand there, filled with awe, my toes digging in the sand, and my neck stiff from craning backward, I would silently recall the lines of a poem that, as an eight-year-old, I had recited for Ms. Cajelo, my stick-wielding second grade teacher.

I often sit and wish that I

Could be a kite up in the sky.

And ride upon the breeze and go,

Whichever way I chance to blow.

Then I could look beyond the town,

And see the river winding down,

And follow all the ships that sail

Like me before a merry gale,

Until at last, with them I come

To some place with a foreign name.

When I see my kids enjoy it as much as I do, that’s an added bonus. I give myself a pat on the back. I’m a good parent.

Have a closer look at my little girl’s face below. She’s holding a string. That’s the first time she ever flew a kite. And she knows exactly what I’m talking about.

Between Jessi and Me

Chiqui — Fri, 30 Apr 2010 18:08:47 +0000

They’re gonna bury you today. I can’t be there to pay my last respects. Good thing everyone has left the house, sugar dad to work and the kids to school. I can bleat like a sheep for as loud and as long as I want without any curious little voices asking me what’s wrong.

I have put on my one-and-only, faded purple shirt. I have a picture of a purple flower, picked from my neighbor’s garden when no one was looking, and I’ve posted it just right up there. That’s for you, Jess. Purple for the pancreatic cancer that you battled bravely for two short years.

Here I go again. I’m starting to feel it rising up my chest. Any second now the waterworks will be turned on. I’ve been feeling like a weepy drama queen since last Saturday night, when I suspected that you had died. I shouldn’t be like this, you know. You’re not even a best friend, or a close relative. You’re just a so-so friend, whom I haven’t seen or heard from for close to fifteen years. Then came facebook…and we got reconnected. I suppose now we’re disconnected again. But you left me something valuable. I have copied and saved our facebook message thread below. It will go into a special part of my memory box.

Between Jessi Catedrilla-Palmares and You

Veronica Illenberger Baylon September 7, 2009 at 9:56am

kumusta ang imo mga tests, jess? I hope they were ok.

Jessi Catedrilla-Palmares September 8, 2009 at 6:12am

Chiqui! Ulihi ka na imo ya! Ga-paspasanay na di, wala ka pa ya kapanginlaman! hahaha! They came back with liver lesions and a few lymph node involvements so they staged it at St IV (bisan isa lang ka lymph node ara, it’s a stage IV) but I’m not gonna be put out by any “stage” or whatever. It’s all up to Him this time and I’ve offered up everything to Him. Through Mama Mary, I know I’ll be heard. So, pitch in a prayer for me too, OK? I started chemo last week. Will get it every 2 weeks for a couple of months then we check the scan again. Thanks for being there….it really makes a difference in how I see life everyday, knowing I have friends who care. Take it easy…

Veronica Illenberger Baylon September 8, 2009 at 10:39am

Jess, I’m so sorry.I feel so bad for your kids. It must be hard for them. But I know you don’t want people to feel bad for you. Sige I’ll pray for you and your family.

Jessi Catedrilla-Palmares September 8, 2009 at 12:18pm

Thanks, Chiq! The kids have been resilient through all of this. They keep praying . They keep my spirits up coz they’re so positive. The little one doesn’t understand. But the three have been so positive throughout this whole ordeal. Thanks…I’ll need those prayers.

Veronica Illenberger Baylon September 16, 2009 at 5:42am

jess, I read about Patrick Swayze. remembered you and said a little prayer for you n your family. i hope you will always be beautiful. sometimes, no, make it most of the time, I get irritated by your status updates that are oozing with sunshine (that’s just the way I am-vinegary). but whenever I find myself overwhelmed and defeated by my pretty problems, I think -Why can’t I be as positive as Jessi? you are my sunshine, I guess. God put me in touch with you to remind me that I should be thankful I’m as healthy as a horse. I have nothing to complain about. Thank you. I hope God will not take away my sunshine. Be healthy, OK?

Jessi Catedrilla-Palmares September 17, 2009 at 4:52pm

hahaha! As usual, you crack me up! It’s not always easy putting that smile on my face. I have to face the mirror some days and talk myself through it like I’m talking to a friend. It’s mostly easier said than done, especially on days when I’m not feeling so swell. However, it’s always mind over body. Keep me in your prayers—I need them more now than ever. Sometimes, my emotions get the better of me too. Those are the times I need your prayers. I can’t allow myself some slack emotionally…I give myself time to cry but I do want to appreciate every moment. And it’s hard when you’re depressed. Thanks, Chiq!

Veronica Illenberger Baylon April 25 at 3:18am

Jess, naano ka na? Why r all these people saying “I will miss you” ? It’s 3 AM, I was just about to sleep after watching a movie. I checked FB on my phone for the last time n I saw all those messages for u on your wall. I hope u r still hanging on in there. I hope my worst fears are wrong. My god! I’m so upset now. I don’t think I can sleep. Jess, please be there.

Sent via Facebook Mobile

Veronica Illenberger Baylon April 28 at 1:20pm

my god, jessi mae! nasubuan gid ko sang tanan nga posts about your funeral. i know you can’t read this, but i’m writing to you just the same. I don’t really want to make any wall posts about my real feelings, but right now tears are streaming down my face. I can’t believe you are gone. I always thought you’d beat this cancer crap, that’s why, though we were never close friends, the news of your death hit me hard. I keep expecting you to respond to this email right away. that’s how you are. u respond right away. and now there’s nobody there at the other end. it doesn’t matter. i will keep writing to you because it comforts me to do so.

and to think I was thinking of writing to you to suggest that you eat lots of cabbages because they have the best and most effective cancer-fighting chemicals. I don’t know if i did send that email. maybe I deleted it. You must have been at the ICU at that time. I will miss you.

“Torta” across Cultures

Chiqui — Tue, 13 Apr 2010 20:28:13 +0000

All my life I have never thought of the word torta without that picture above popping up in my head. Tortang talong. Tortang ground beef and potatoes. I always understood the word as something that refers to food that has been mixed with eggs, made into a patty or flattened up, and then fried in oil. That’s the Filipino torta.

Back in 2001, when I first came to America, I learned that the Mexicans have a different version of the torta. For them it’s a sandwhich, much like a Subway sandwhich. The picture I have here doesn’t look very nice. Burnt bread. Hhmmph! I got it from a neighborhood restaurant called La Morenita Oaxaquena. While I was waiting for them to make it, I saw something very interesting.

I didn’t know that there’s a modern jukebox. This one plays CDs instead of vinyls. All Ritmo Latino music. I can’t understand why all male Latino musicians have to wear cowboy hats. It’s like their trademark or something. Reminds me of Filipino action stars who execute their stunts with leather jackets on in 90 degree Farenheit tropical heat. It irks you and makes you laugh at the same time.

Then there’s this Spanish torta. I heard a lady raving about how good it was. And I was beside her thinking, “This is so different from tortang talong or the sandwhich torta”. My curiosity got the better of me so I bought a package. When I opened it up, I saw a big, round cookie. Otap lang pala. As thin as an otap, with sugar on top, but different in shape, texture, and taste. I think it’s the sesame seeds that make it taste different.

I’ve been mulling over these differences for the past weeks. Somehow, because these three cultures are tied to each other, there must be a common thread that runs through their understanding of the word “torta”. What is it? I wish I knew.

Chiqui: Wildlife Photographer Extraordinaire (Adventure 2)

Chiqui — Tue, 06 Apr 2010 21:01:59 +0000

Lake Balboa Park – Again. Can’t get enough of this place. There’s so much more here that my camera hasn’t captured. I’m hoping to get a picture of a pelican and those tiny yellowgreen birds. Last time I was here it was January, a rainy month. This picture was taken on the last Sunday of March.

This is a day when you wish you can paint pretty pictures just like that man right there in the shade. How lucky is he to have the kind of talent that others like me could only wish for.

Pleasant sunny day. The cherry blossoms have started coming out and the park looked cheerful. Splashes of pink everywhere. Gentle breezes were shaking petals down into the water and the ducks were scooping them up. I didn’t know they ate flowers! Just the memory of it makes my heart as light and fluffy as a marshmallow.

I learn something everytime I visit. These birds, for example, are not ducks but coots. The one on the left is just about to dive. They’re so cute when they’re underwater. They can stay there for at least 10 seconds. I didn’t see this before. Then I noticed that their feet are not as prominently webbed as duck feet. My newest vocabulary acquisition: fissipalmate.

This seems to be the heron’s favorite fishing spot. Shallow and rushing water. Best of all – no quacking. It’s not the kind of picture I really want to have, but it’s better than the last one I took.

Ooops! That’s not part of the Lake Balboa wildlife, but a harassed and distracted mother may sometimes forget and mistake it for one. That’s my son rolling down a gentle slope.

My daughter is counting the holes and calling for their gopher residents to come out and play.

Goose, coot, mallard. Do you see the silhoutte of a big fish on the right side of the picture? Barely visible under all that murky water. Almost two feet in length. A carp. I don’t think it’s going to be tasty when cooked. You’ll have to drown it in tons of sweet and sour sauce for it to be palatable.

I just can’t put a finger on it, but there’s something about this picture that I love. Ducks are very sociable creatures. I always see them swimming in threes. These could be the ones that the Birdman of Lake Balboa has named Huey, Louie, and Dewey.

Tinuom

Chiqui — Wed, 31 Mar 2010 22:04:53 +0000

Look at that pretty vegetable dish. It’s a recipe I picked up from a friend’s mom way back in 1992, when I stayed at their house in Lambunao, Iloilo. Very simple peasant fare. Goes well with steaming hot rice, pinakas (fried dried fish), or balingon uga (dried anchovies). Or just about any fried fish. Sampat!

It’s the Ilonggo version of the fritata or the quiche, without all the oil, meat, and cheese. Definitely healthier (that is if you have the strength of will to eat it without the sampat food that goes along with it).

Tinuom sampat with Balingon!

Ingredients:

1 cup chopped tomatoes, 4 eggs, 4 cups leafy vegetables (lupo, or, if it’s not available, spinach is a good substitute), salt, pepper, banana leaf for wrapping.

Procedure:

Mix all ingredients in a bowl, except for the leaf. Hold banana leaf a few inches above a flame until it changes color. This will make the leaf more pliant and stronger. It will not break apart easily. Pour the mixture on top of the banana leaf . Gather the edges together and tie with a string. You can place it over hot coals or you can steam it. Cooking time is short. Just 5- 10 minutes. Serves 4.

Note: I tried making this years ago, using foil to wrap the vegetables in. It was okey, but it didn’t have the kind of taste that I loved when my friend’s mom cooked it. Banana leaves are a must for this recipe. It adds another dimension of flavor to the dish. In the US, look for banana leaves in the freezer section of an oriental store. You can also check out Latino markets. They use banana leaves for wrapping food.