The world’s just waiting for someone to write a book explaining how Thai food is really, the perfect health food because there don’t seem to be many obese or even pot-bellied people in Thailand, and yet they eat out a lot. I’ve written, too, on how we could learn a thing or two from the Thais about standardizing our food and making it appealing to tourists, but that’s another story.

For cheap Thai eats, there’s Som’s in Makati which is superior to Som’s on Tomas Morato, but both have the unfortunate tendency to be uneven and keep erring on the side of putting too much sugar in their curries (perhaps this has been noticed by others, hence the debate on authenticity), though I tend to like their green curry. The prices are delightfully low, but the portions also tend to me at times, microscopic (this is particularly irritating when it comes to the catfish and green mango salad).

So about two weeks back we ate ate at Silk, the Thai restaurant in Serendra (what is it with these disease-sounding Ayala Malls lately? Serendra sounds like it’s something you get from deranged howler monkeys while TriNoMa sounds like something that requires a barium enema to cure). It’s one of the prettier restaurants, the staff are efficient, the prices mmmkay…

Tom Yum avoided the sin of being sugary, and the shrimp wasn’t tough. This was a superior Tom Yum.

Soft shell crab, deep fried, with a tamarind and mango sauce, if I recall correctly. Absolutely and unqualifiedly delicious! That was a happy bunch of molting crabs, I can tell ya. This dish alone made the restaurant visit worth it.

The cholesterol special was some sort of tamarind-infused pork rib thing. This is what inihaw, which normally leaves me cold, should aspire to. This pig must have been a happy camper, too. I generally dislike inihaw because it tends to leave the meat or fish or whatever tasting like it was incinerated on coals and I end up wondering if consuming so much charcoal will lead to colon cancer one day. But these ribs were, to start with, fatty, flavorful, tender, not too charcoal-infused, and with a delicate tamarind flavor that was quite charming.

Alas, the green curry was… uninspired.

This is a place with promise, I think it requires a second visit before a permanent verdict can be rendered. I’m not sold on the idea of Thai food being suitable for a date place (too many accidents waiting to happen) but it seemed to me the most romantic-looking restaurant in Serendra.

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But there is a little Imelda in all of us. There are times we just want to eat, and eat well.

There has to be a place which serves premium meat and which uses the best available ingredients, but which charges as reasonably as possible. For some time now, I’ve considered that place to be Arya Persian Restaurant in Greenhills. In its early days, the restaurant was a bit over the top -the waitstaff called customers “Your Majesty”- but having abandoned its “every-customer-a-Shah” gimmick, it settled down to being a nice place to eat. See E. Xsaltire’s Site for a more scientific review of the place. Until quite recently, the only thing wrong with the place was that it had a rather confusing menu, but since I usually ordered the same thing, that wasn’t much of a problem.

They serve really delicious free peanuts, the slightly-but-not-too greasy kind, and slightly spicy. You gotta love a place that starts you off with free spicy peanuts.

And after years of only knowing the rather anemic Hummus of Behrouz, it was a delight to discover the Hummus at Arya (their Moutabal is the best, too: slightly garlicky) which I still think is the best Hummus around. I’d eaten most of the Hummus before I remembered to take this photo, so sorry. The gloop in the dish is an onion concoction called Khask Badenjan which is normally quite tasty, but more on this anon.

But my main addiction has been their lamb shish kebab, which I usually had with fluffy rice. The waitstaff offer to take your tomatoes and mash them for you, which pleases some customers.

Aside from their lamb shish kebab being of high quality lamb, it’s the garlic sauce of the place that really got me hooked. When it comes to some sauces my inner Imelda comes out and moderation is not my idea of consumption. Arya’s lamb shish kebab, cut up into little cubes, doused with garlic sauce, then doused again so they absorb as much sauce as possible, and then periodically re-doused as you eat it with the by-now-mashed roasted tomatoes, is heaven!

And seriously, you have to adore a cuisine that puts dollops of butter on its rice. Everyone should put butter on their rice. If it’s Basmati rice.

And the other speciality that I like very much is Mahiche Polo, which is a lamb shank in some sort of spicy gloop, normally quite tasty (the yellow Basmati rice above is the partner of this dish; the Basmati you get with the shish kebab is the white kind but also with a lovely dollop of butter). Returning to the issue I hinted at with the Khask Badenjan photo, on the night we dined at Arya, most of the food went wrong.

Terribly, awfully, wrong. Shockingly so. The Khask Badenjan was off in terms of its flavor, resembling, for some reason, a packet of Lipton Onion Soup mix moistened with a little water; my kebab was a pale color and, I was horrified to observe, tasted more like Caldereta than a kebab (quite edible anyway which is why I consumed it; put enough lovely garlic sauce on anything, I guess…), and the Mahiche Polo’s gloop was hardly gloopy, indeed, rather soupy, and lacking in flavor.

My companions were quite disgruntled and my loyalty to the restaurant at issue, when the owner strolled by we buttonholed him and he proceeded to debate us on our critique, admitting the Khask Badenjian was, to put it mildly, inferior, yet highly defensive about the Mahiche Polo, whose unsatisfactory condition he couldn’t blame on the kitchen as he prepares it himself. He was frankly skeptical of my complaint about the lamb kebab and in the end, he said we’d have to come back and see if the standards had really deteriorated.

He did send us a plate of watermelon by way of thanks for the input, though.

I haven’t been back since, but in the meantime, my offended companions brought me to Cyma Estiatorio (both the one in Greenbelt and at TriNoMa) where I kept having a Malu Fernandez Moment whenever the waiters all got together and bellowed “OOOOOO-H-PAAAAH!!!!!” to commemorate the serving of some signature dish.

The appetizer platter (Pikilia it’s called?) is a crowd-pleaser. Hummus! Cheese with a pepper! Cucumber and yogurt! Mashed eggplant with diced tomatoes! And a radioactively pink fish roe thingy! How could you go wrong? With lots of whole wheat pita bread!

And here, ladies and germs, is what a lamb shish kebab ought to look like. Compare its color with the color of the unfortunate lamb shish kebab I last had at Arya. This is consistently good, I’ve had it seven times already and it’s been good each time and in either branch.

No one has been able to tell me an antidote for the unfortunate garlic breath both restaurants inspires, though.

Anyway, earlier this week accompanied a cousin, his wife and son to Amici along Tomas Morato.

There’s something ironic about a self-service cafeteria-style restaurant that has valet parking.

It’s a large, bright, place, pretty full at the time, but there seemed a bit of confusion on our part as to overdering procedures. And what is it with security guards doubling as waitstaff? There ought to be a law! Between security guards in charge of ashtrays at Starbuck’s, handing out trays at DeliFrance, and handing out menus at Amici, this is not part of their job description and it shouldn’t be condoned.

Asked what the Minestrone was like, and my cousin laconically replied, “filling.”

And I asked my nephew what the Panini was like, and got an equally laconic answer: “Mmmkay.”

Did not venture to try to extract an opinion on the pasta.

This, and the next two dishes, are what I actually got to eat. The (Rosemary) Roast Chicken (170 pesos) was, indeed, “baked to perfection” as the menu promised, the vegetables not mushy, which was all good, but the chicken was rather flavorless. Not bland, but, lacking in flavor, somehow. I personally think it has to do with the chicken being your generic farm-raised Magnolia type, which leads to a predictable but not particularly flavorful, on its own, chicken. The most unremarkable dish of the trio I tried.

The Canneloni Agli Spinaci, on the other hand, was a triumph. No scrimping on either the spinach or the ricotta cheese, not drowning in tomato sauce but not overcooked and leathery, either, not too fatty. A great combination of texture and flavor and at 180 pesos, actually probably a nice dish for one person, but I had to share it and so it served as our appetizer.

Doc Emer on Twitter sang the praises of Amici’s pizza, and he was right. Nice, thin, Italian-style slightly flaky crust, this was the Tutta Carne, Italian Sausage and Cooked, Spicy Ham (not spicy at all, and slightly, it seemed to me, more along the lines of generic cold cuts -read, “Spiced Ham” for baon sandwiches- than a real ham. But, filling, with a good combination of real cheese and an apparently non-canned sauce. Good for two but not more than that.

This is really a place for marauding gangs of friends or large families, but this isn’t a place with big share-with-the-world servings.

So I went to their branch in Pasig last night.

Apparently, memories embalmed in an alcoholic haze aren’t worth diddly squat.

Because it looks like poo on a plate. I’m not very fussy about presentation, but please.

And wasn’t very tasty, either.

I should’ve stuck to my memories.

Actually fried bread in soup is best when it comes to creamy soups. When your soup is more along the lines of a stew, then you’re better off finding another way to fortify your soup.

Here’s a simple technique which also adds texture to your soup.

De-can your soup, pour into a bowl.

Heat the soup in the Microwave.

Get a packet of crackers.

Get a wooden spoon or somesuch implement. Smash the crackers.

Take the soup out of the Microwave, open the packet, pour crispy smashed goodness into the bowl.

Get your handy-dandy essential Vietnamese (actually, from what I understand, Thai) style hot sauce*, which is superior to Tabasco because it’s not vinegary and so doesn’t make everything you eat taste more like Tabasco than what you’re eating, and dribble a little bit into your soup. Hot sauce eliminates the taste of the can.

Stir and enjoy.

*Together with Kewpie mayonnaise, a basic food group, along with deli mustard, ketchup, Worcestershire and A1 sauces and Italian dressing.

Fruit’s always good for you but if you live alone, it’s difficult to store fruit. So the best solution is canned fruit.

Since weight is also a state of mind, if you buy things that say “Light,” ergo, they and you will be lighter, if not physically, then psychologically, and after all, maintaining morale is half the battle. This recipe is full of light ingredients -fruit in light syrup and light whipped cream (or whipped dairy product). I’d even say this is a health food recipe!

Ingredients are simple:

I don’t know if this brand’s better than any other canned Mandarin Oranges brand, but I enjoy reading what it says: “Mandarins from China, Enjoy y [date]“.

And

It says it’s light so it has to be healthy, non?

Spoon the Mandarin Oranges out of their container, trying not to include any syrup.

When you have placed the right amount, proceed to step two. Cover the Mandarin Oranges with whipped cream.

Artistic!

Enjoy.

Repeat.

Impressionistic!

Enjoy again.

You are way better off than having consumed one pound of Peanut M&M’s!

The other night I took visiting friends from Europe to K.K.K. Pinoy Food Revolution Restaurant at 74 West Avenue (tel. 371-9099), and they liked the Filipino food very much. I think the best thing about the place is the menu, lots of pretty historical pictures.

I discovered that a cellphone camera isn’t exactly ideal as far as taking photos of food in a dimly-lit place is concerned.

Our consumption, for four people:

1 Sinuglaw KKK style 145.00

The peculiar thing is that the Crispy Pata and Kare-Kare were served first, then the rice and Talong, then the Sinuglaw and the Laing. This sort of haphazard delivery of courses isn’t appealing.

Anyway, Sinuglaw is their version of Kilawin, except it’s made of diced tuna chunks, with coconut milk and bits of pork liempo. They use a sweet kind of vinegar which was a bit cloying, but the whole thing was fairly pleasant.

1 Laing 125.00

Nondescript.

1 Krisping Krispy Knuckles 440.00

Zero points for presentation, it looked like the pork knuckle was part of a victim of the Glorietta bombing. Tasty though, and for once, this seems to have come from a pig that was actually fat and not suffering from anorexia. Well-cooked skin, evenly crunchy and not oily at all. The sauce was conservative and that’s just to my liking, garlic, onions, vinegar and soy sauce, period.

1 Pinakbet 155.00

I have an irrational horror of Pinakbet so didn’t bother to try it. My European guests are, however, passionately addicted to it and proclaimed it some of the best they’ve ever tasted (this is their third visit to the country).

1 Ensalada Inihaw na Talong 100.00

This time, the sweetish vinegar the restaurant seems to prefer went well with the naked eggplants and the diced vegetables heaped on them: nothing fancy, or nouveau, about the dish, lots of onions and a discreet amount of red chili.

1 Kare-Kare 330.00

Pluses: made with fatty beef. Good sauce, not runny, lots of vegetables and they weren’t cooked to death; good quality tripe, well done and with no suspicious aftertaste. Minuses: the restaurant likes to use the kind of semisweet bagoong that has the consistency of bird poop. This tends to ooze around the plate. But as kare-kare’s go, while modest in serving size, it was obviously a dish made of good, wholesome ingredients and while runny, the bagoong was tasty.

4 Plain Jasmine Rice 120.00

Not the biggest measuring cups were used.

The restaurant has a pleasant outdoor area, and we actually moved there after initially settling in the airconditioned area, which is more brightly lit. However, the airconditioned area was full and the noises being made by the other customers made pleasant conversation impossible. If there’s a near-universal defect of Philippine eating places, it’s that absolutely no thought is given to accoustics.

The cheesedog is all about faith. Faith in its really being made out of meat (you just don’t want to think too hard about what kind of meat, or if you do, not to discuss too thoroughly what offal consists of), and that it also has cheese. However, the cheesedog is handy, and can be consumed without the benefit of bread.

You must consume cheesedogs two at a time. Eating only one leads to feelings of deprivation which will only make you want to eat something else, leading to a dangerous food spiral which may result in you becoming morbidly obese by the next morning. Eating three or more cheesedogs in one sitting, however, is overdoing it and will not result in a food spiral but possible late-evening indigestion.

Being a processed meat product, and one priced to appeal to the quantity over quality market, the cheesedog has to go through various procedures to look like a real sausage, which it isn’t -not quite, anyway. For example, the type of cheesedog illustrated above, is encased in a kind of industrial plastic condom, which should be eased off the cheesdog prior to cooking. It is quite possible to cook the cheesedog while it’s still in its industrial condom, but it makes removing the condom more difficult prior to consumption. It is also possible, theoretically, to eat the industrial plastic sheathing but I don’t see why you’d want to do that. The cheesedogs, post de-sheathing, and the discarded plastic sheaths, are illustrated above. It’s a good idea to pierce the cheesedogs several times with a fork, if only to prevent their becoming deformed during cooking.

Microwave on High for 1 minute. Remove from the Microwave. Marvel at the oily goo that has leaked out of the cheesedogs during cooking. The fussy consumer, at this point, could add to the pile of dishes waiting to be rinsed, by moving the cheesedogs to a plate, to divorce them from the oily goo. But the goo’s actually tasty and at 2 a.m., it’s not worth doing the degooing.

And so, apply liberal amounts of tomato ketchup and Kewpie Japanese mayonnaise*, for that festive look and added flavor! Enjoy by piercing one cheesedog with your fork and swirling it around your festive sauce. Repeat until everything’s consumed.

*Kewpie Japanese mayonnaise is a basic bachelor food group, in the league of essentials such as tomato ketchup and hot sauce.

The problem with something canned, though, is that it’s a set recipe. You could turn the canned item into something else by making it part of a recipe, but that defeats the purpose of having handy, canned food, doesn’t it? The point of bachelor living is you have better things to do than actually fuss around the kitchen.

So, the easiest thing to do, requiring minimal effort, is to combine one canned thing, with another canned thing, and warm it up in the Microwave.

Last night’s piece de resistance was Beantastic South of the Border Vienna Sausages. Amazingly easy!

All you need are:

A can of Chili Beans with Beef. Usually, this is too spicy to eat on its own, unless you have it with rice, but if you don’t have any rice to eat it with, then you need something to cut the spice.

And a can of Chicken Vienna Sausages. Actually, I prefer normal Vienna Sausages but these were on sale.

Open each can. Pour the Chili Beans with Beef into a microwave-safe bowl.

Pour out the broth from the can of Vienna Sausages, then plop the sausages over the Chili and Beans.

Heat on high in the Microwave for 30 seconds.

Sprinkle some Kraft Parmesan Cheese (grated Cheddar would be better, but since it doesn’t come pre-grated in a can, it’s too much of a bother to be grating at midnight) over the whole thing. Let it sit happily for a couple of minutes so the sausages absorb some of the sauce, and consume!