Faubourg Pavé

I didn't think I'd ever be the somatic type, but I find it relaxing to work with my hands. And there's nothing that blends chemistry and art so well as baking, so I decided to be really good at it-- to not be limited by technique, only by ingredients and materials. On that note, I bought a crapload of pans and tools (will post about those later), and did you know a kilo of cherries costs P900? Prohibitive.

Though not the first thing I made, I am amazed by the beauty of this Faubourg Pavé. It was designed by the "Picasso of Pastry", Pierre Hermé, and was his first dessert he made for the Ladurée, Paris's oldest pâtisserie and tea salon (pasteleria y salon de the?). It's cocoa cake split into three and brushed with salted caramel syrup, then layered with seasoned dried apricots and chocolate-salted caramel ganache. The recipe makes 2 loaf cakes but I had some extra so I made a mini-loaf for Roselyn.

I had prepared specific instructions on how to prepare it-- defrost overnight in the fridge, leave at room temperature 30 minutes, then smooth all over with a spatula-- but she had eaten it out of hand like a sandwich before I could. I forgive her because she hadn't had lunch in anticipation.

Movie of the Year Time!

Yesterday I spent an inappropriate amount of time on the LRT and MRT going to Megamall just to see The 40 Year-Old Virgin. Despite spending 1.5 hours getting squished on all four sides like those commuters in Mumbai, resisting the urge to punch grannies who cut in the ticket line at the MRT, and getting dehydrated, I'd say that's the best 2 hours and P90 I've spent this year.


It's deliciously rude and funnily gross, and not Duplex gross (gah. What a bad movie). There's juvenile and smart humor-- something for everyone. Plus, I love everything to come out from The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, and Steve Carrell, even to Jon's admission, is one of the funniest, and I'm glad he's out of supporting roles like the ones in Anchorman and Bruce Almighty. There's also a nice lesson to be learned (like you care, ha ha ha). My only problems with the movie are the accents that some of the actors use; they're very thick (especially the Pakistani one) and I think I may need to buy the original DVD with subtitles.


Watching advice: OK for: friends, date. Not OK to watch with your family, though your parents will also have a great time watching it. By THEMSELVES. Grandparents not so much. I was wondering why my ticket said R-13; this is definitely R-18.


Oh, and to the girl in the row behind me. WE GET IT. YOU ARE A DEMURE DELICATE LITTLE FLOWER GROWING IN A PILE OF MANURE. YOU DON'T HAVE TO RUIN EVERYONE'S VIEWING EXPERIENCE BY SAYING "HA HA HA! YUCK! KADIRI!" LOUDLY EVERYTIME YOU SEE THE SUGGESTION OF SEX. SHUT THE HELL UP OR LEAVE, OR JUST LAUGH LIKE A NORMAL PERSON. I MEAN, IF YOU THINK IT'S GROSS, DON'T BE SO IRONIC ABOUT IT. Good grief.


Line of last week:
"You see this pimple here, right? I know it's not yet that swollen, but even when I'm looking at you, I can almost see it; it's obstructing my vision... Oh my God, I have a visual field defect."

Not-God is in the Not-Details

aka, "When Graphic Designers Go Bad, Installment One." (Not for kids!)

Or, it could depend on how you look at it. This cover is the perfect example of how a book title, an image, and an evil graphic designer come together to make one of the most hilarious images to come out of the self-help section of the bookstore. I mean, after you've blown WHAT? Gross. The embarrassment is on the left, the correction is on the right.

Musical Ordeals

Today I had the exquisite horror of watching somebody sing a capella to a small group of people. It was a very unfortunate Med Rep (a pharmacy dude basically), who I think actually suggested this hare-brained scheme to his superiors. He sang a song about Statins (Cholesterol-lowering drugs) to the tune of "Pag Nananalo ang Ginebra."

A SONG ABOUT STATINS TO THE TUNE OF PAG NANANALO ANG GINEBRA.

Holy crap.

No, it's not that he was particularly bad. He claimed he was supposed to bring his guitar but his throat was scratchy so he might not be able to pull it off. But he did! Here's how it went: a group of about 16 people listening to a guy (almost) sing his heart (and dignity) out with a song about dyslipidemia. It has all the making of a classic awkward moment:

1. A super-enthusiastic guy.
2. A soul-baring act (like singing a solo a capella).
3. A group of people who did not ask you to do such a thing.
4. All those people averting their eyes to avoid eye contact and the inevitable sadness that results.
5. All those people smiling to give the guy comfort.

The only thing missing was the guy missing all the notes or his voice cracking, which thank heavens did not happen. The thing that sealed the deal was him following up with a song that was not in his commission; "Dalagang Bicolana," and no, its lyrics were not replaced with medical terminology. He just wanted to sing the damned song.
Let's all make a pact to never subject each other to such grotesque social-bondary crossing by following a few simple rules:

1. If you sing TO a person/people, make sure they asked.
2. Do the eye-closing thing frequently, not to give the effect of passion, but to prevent locking your eyes while singing something like "I'm cold and I'm ashamed, lying naked on the floor."
3. Sing on top of a platform or stage, where you are free from being too intimate.
4. Sing in front of at least 50 people.
5. Have accompaniment, like a guitar or piano, and use it as an excuse to use your eyes for something else.

Trust me. Or at least look around the next time you sing and observe for yourself.

Touching Life Lesson

When sitting in a toilet with an automatic flush device activated by an electric eye, do not EVER bend down fully at the waist. You will flush your ASS!

That is all.