Food Tour in Marvelous Melbourne

It’s been a month since our Australian adventure, but work got in the way of this review. Anyway, it’s never too late to immortalize how I felt a month ago on paper. We actually went to Melbourne for both business and leisure back in February, and to call it a pleasurable experience was absolutely an understatement. Almost every aspect of the city is chaotically combined with charm. Modern skyscrapers are built alongside old Victorian buildings, hot and sunny afternoons are mixed with sporadic showers, and almost every type of food you can think of can easily be found within walking distance from one another.

We signed up for a walking food tour and met Troy, our guide, under the clock at Flinders Railway Station. Being toured by a local and eating their food is just two of the ways to immerse oneself to a culture outside of one’s own. It gives you a sense of what the city is about and understand a bit of their history and how it’s shaped over time.

The food tour began in Mabu Mabu at Federation Square with an array of indigenous food. Mabu Mabu is an expression in the Torres Strait that means “help yourself”. It was such a nice detail to start the tour by paying respects to the First Nations Elders past and present. We were served a pumpkin and native basil damper with golden syrup butter, a tin meat croquette with black garlic aioli as dip, and an emu heart anticucho with bush tomato aioli dip. All of which I ate without knowing what exactly they were, as I was so into the conversation about the changing language and names of some of the places in Australia to proactively be more inclusive of the indigenous community. Then I read the menu and thought, I wouldn’t have ordered those if it’s just me, but glad I was able to experience such strong culinary identity.

Next stop was HOWM Selina Melbourne, where a very knowledgeable barista, Haan, discussed the difference of Melbourne coffee compared to the rest of the world. He gave us a shot of long black, which is basically an Americano to Starbucks drinkers, followed by a flat white, which usually has a higher proportion of espresso to steamed milk than a caffè latte and the layer of froth is thinner than an Italian cappuccino. I asked for a Magic Coffee, unfortunately they don’t offer it in their café. Magic coffee has been an off-menu item almost entirely exclusive to the cafes of Melbourne. I was able to taste it just because it’s available in our office coffee machine at 8Ex. Anyway, magic coffee has particular proportions and uses ristretto instead of espresso. Nevertheless, the coffee stop we did was very interesting as we learned the process, the packaging, the origin, and even the farmers who cultivated our coffee back in Colombia and Brazil.

We then went to Brunetti’s for some Italian delicacies and I fell in love with the cicchettis we sampled on. There was also a wide selection of pastries and cakes to choose from. I really wanted to try them but at this point, I’m just so full and was contented on taking photos of the stacks of different cakes and breads and pastries. They literally have hundreds of types of cakes and pastries to choose from, it’s pretty overwhelming.

After marveling on the spectacular cake displays , we walked to the Block Arcade and found some cheese and chocolates from Tasmania at Coal River Farm. Their milk chocolate wasn’t too sweet but the cholatey flavour was there. We sampled on 3 different types of cheese and 3 different types of chocolates. I didn’t know you can eat them together and would produce this flavour I can only describe as heaven. I also got myself some dark chocolate with lavender on them and they are not something I’ve tasted before. Imagine eating a bitter chocolate hinted with floral zest. As weird as that sounds, it was actually delightful.

Food tours will not be complete without going to Chinatown. Every huge city in the world we’ve been to has a Chinatown. We bought a JiangBing, which is a Chinese crepe that is slightly spicy but kind of familiar to my palate. We got to drink our choice of wine at Section 8, where street arts are strategically located, JiangBing still on hand. The paradoxical elements of the whole thing was absurdly wonderful. Five middle-aged people drinking wine, while eating Chinese crepe, with graffiti as backdrop, and loud club and rap music playing as our BGM, makes me smile just by the thought of it.

When we finished our wine, we proceeded to Fable Rooftop in Lonsdale. Interestingly, I cannot pronounce half of what’s on their menu. On the way there, we noticed the Greek influence in the area and true enough we ate some Loukoumades (Greek Donuts) as our final meal of the tour. Loukoumades is a dessert but they are not too sweet. It’s like honey puffs with a bit of a crunch. We had it with ice cream and sprinkled with nuts. They are like Timbits but a 100x better, at least to my taste.

The choices of food on this tour has shown the multiculturalism that shaped Melbourne, and there are just so many wondrous and delicious places to try around every corner and up every laneway within the City. We just didn’t have enough time to explore and look up and discover the labyrinth of spectacular rooftops, vivacious venues, delightful hidden secrets and gastronomic wonders we’ve heard so much about, but we’ve definitely enjoyed our time and would encourage family and friends to visit and try a walking food tour so they can experience the joy and mouthwatering goodness for themselves.

Mabu Mabu
Federation Square
Indigenous food

HOWM Selina Melbourne 
Degraves Street
Coffee

Flat White

Brunetti’s
Little Collins Street
Cicchetti and Italian delicacies 

Coal River Farm
Block Arcade
Cheese & Chocolate from Tasmania

Bijou Wine & Bottle Shop
194 Little Collins Street
Local Wines

WOW Crepes
222 Bourke Street (next to K~Mart)
Secret Crepes (Jiang Bing)

Section 8
Tattersall’s Lane
Wine, Street Art & Great Vibes

Fable Rooftop
168 Lonsdale Street
Loukoumades (Greek Donuts)

My 10-year Old Speaking Herself

This is just one of those videos/speeches/topics I asked my 10 year old to react to. I wanted her to confidently share her thoughts, because despite being so smart, she’s very critical of herself and keeps her opinions unsaid thinking they don’t matter. For someone who can do a lot of things well, she’s too shy that borderlines to feeling of inferiority. Anyway, I am putting this out there because I’m just in awe on how she frames her mind into talking about things not every 10 year old can articulate, at least in writing. Her thoughts as a kid, who can now embark on an arduous journey of loving herself, will never cease to amaze me. She can actually improve this more, but I’m posting the original note to capture the rawness of her reaction.

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“I recently watched a video of RM, from the group BTS, present a speech for the United Nations from about three years ago. Today, I will talk about it.

I felt bad when I heard the speech. To be honest, I cried when I first listened to it. Maybe it’s just me being an emotional kid, but still. A boy with a dream who stopped dreaming just to be someone who he isn’t because he started feeling self-conscious. He stayed like this until he found where his heart lies and cut off the strings he tied himself to. Even after discovering his passion, he still faced a lot of difficulties, but even when he wanted to give up, he didn’t let go. He learnt to know himself, love himself, and be himself.

I want to be like him too. First, I want to have the strength to keep going despite the obstacles. I admit, even a simple mistake can make me doubt myself. I want my mistakes to be something I can learn from, and not something that drags me down. Second, I want to know myself. I want to know who I am, what kind of person I am, what I can do, and what I can’t, but I just don’t know how or where to start. Third, I want to love myself. I’m not saying that I don’t appreciate my life. It’s just that, loving yourself requires you to embrace everything about yourself, even your flaws and weaknesses. It’s hard to accept that you are not perfect, and will never be, for me at least. And lastly, I want to be myself. But the thing is, I don’t even know myself enough to do this. I might be acting differently than how I usually would for all I know. How can you be yourself if you don’t even know who you are? That’s kind of like unconsciously putting on a facade.

These are just my thoughts based on what I understood. Some may be like me and agree with everything I just said, and some may not. Thank you for reading.”

Some Random Thoughts on the Tokyo Olympics

Hats off to all the Philippine representatives in the Tokyo Olympics. With or without medals, I wish they know that I, as a fellow Filipino, am very proud of them. Not many of us have the same understanding of the mental and physical requirement of being an athlete. The amount of time and money spent on it, the politics you need to work around with, and the mental focus you need to have to align to get the best out of yourself. It all screams hard work and determination, which not too many people have. I remember how I once dreamt of becoming an athlete, but quickly realized I’m too lazy to be one, and well there’s just nothing I’m really good at, so I immediately gave up the idea of becoming one.

Then here comes Kamie who started training for Taekwondo at 6 years old. She’s the one who convinced me she wanted to do it. She’s the type who’s very driven and goal oriented, so I just let her be. For extremely fast learners, you can be promoted to black belt in just two years of non-stop training. It would have taken her 3 years, missing a few promotions due to several family vacations, to be a certified black belter. And if the pandemic didn’t happen, she should have gotten her black belt before she turned 10 years old (she’s currently a high brown).

She won a few Poomsae competitions when she was a “baby” white and yellow belter. She had a taste of her first solid headshot in a sparring when she was a blue belter. This is the time when I knew she really wanted to do this sport. I also knew early on that as much as she wants to continuously do Taekwondo, she doesn’t want to compete on this sport. I seriously thought I could live vicariously through her, as an athlete that could represent the country, but I’m pretty sure now that it’s not gonna happen. I asked her why she doesn’t like to compete, she said she can’t afford to be looked at by spectators and her work be judged. She had a few taste of winning and losing, and it’s good when everybody celebrates with you, but losing on a big stage for the world to see and getting unnecessary comments from people you don’t know is something she doesn’t want to deal with at her young age, or maybe ever.

The journey to represent the country in a huge sporting event can be ruthless. It seems an impossible trip as injury, expenses, and bad luck could conspire to keep an athlete away from it. Not to mention the years of preparation and practice to qualify for a seat in the Olympics. So a huge congratulations to everyone who made it there. The grit, the determination, and rising above adversities should be enough for us to understand how much work these athletes put out there to make their country proud. May all our Olympians keep their heads held high, because for most of us, they all truly did well.

Just throwing in here this cute photo of Kamie in her uniform at Diliman Prep School

On Time and Bus Rides

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Our whole take on time and life changes as we age. I remember being a 5^th grader staring at the clock in our classroom, waiting for the school day to end. It feels as if the days crawled incredibly slow and I impatiently wait for the weekend to come while thinking summer vacations were a distant dream that can’t come any sooner. As I become an adult, days, months, years built up speed like a bus with malfunctioning break going down a steep hill. Days moved somewhat quickly and the weekend seemed to always end right after it began. Days seemed to always be too short, and that’s when I realized time doesn’t stop for anyone.

Recently I met with my university friends and felt like life is the same as my bus rides home in the past. Friends and love ones get on the ride with you, but they have their own journeys so they get off at different stops. They go somewhere else and carve their own niches, build their own lives, and follow their destinies. Then they get back on the ride with us again, weight gained, hair grayed, tragedies endured, and battles won. We then share the bus ride again.

A ride which can sometimes be bumpy that we need to huddle together and hold on tight. There will be times that the scenery can be so beautiful it just has to be shared. But the truth of it is, we all ride alone at one point or another. Friends and love ones will eventually be forced to leave the bus called life at some point. You just hope that time slows the ride a little. And though I may have a long road ahead of me with them, it doesn’t make it less scary, especially with the current situation. However, it is also amazingly wonderful as much as it is scary. With everything that’s going on, we can only enjoy the ride and keep on.

Sometimes in the strangest of times and in the fleetest of moments, you get these existential thoughts that come out of nowhere, which quietly moves you and alters your perspective. Today I’m just profoundly grateful for those who have jumped aboard with me. You guys can hop off any time you like, and I will be saving you a seat when you decide to hop back on again, but while we’re on it, let’s enjoy the ride as long as we possibly can.

A 10-year Old’s Take on Racism

What is racism? Racism is judging someone based on their race. It is believing that one’s origin determines what type of person they are. It is also believing in the superiority of one race to another. Now that I’ve explained what racism is, let me tell you what I think about it.

I do not support racism. It’s not good to make assumptions based on the colour of one’s skin. One’s race does not define who they are. As a Southeast Asian who loves travelling, I fear that I would be judged for my origin. I fear that people would assume things about me that are completely false, and all because of my skin colour.

I also dislike stereotypes. Once, I was scrolling through my phone and found a post saying something along the lines of: “Do you notice that there are a lot of dark skinned criminals? That’s because ALL dark skinned people ARE criminals!” I felt angry and confused as I read the post. Why would anyone think that way? If that’s the case, shouldn’t we all be considered criminals since there are lawbreakers of all nationalities? Just because some people of a race act that way, doesn’t mean that ALL people of the same race are like that. Take an old classmate of mine as an example. She has dark skin and is of Nigerian origin and she is one of the nicest, most helpful, and funniest people I’ve ever met. These stereotypes should stop spreading false information. And some people are actually stupid enough to believe them. Even though I’ve said it already, I’ll say it again. Your race does not define who you are.

People have been disrespected and made fun of for the colour of their skin. I may have never experienced nor seen anyone be treated as inferior because of their origins, but I’m sure that it hurts to be ridiculed for who you are. I’m sure that it hurts to be made fun of about something you can’t change. People have been made fun of for being different from the rest. I do not support this behaviour. Treat those who are different the same way you would treat the rest of the crowd. I don’t understand why people would behave differently in front of those who aren’t like them.

We may all be different, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends. (I’m a good girl :)) Don’t judge people based on their race and don’t make fun of people for being different from you, it can hurt their feelings. Always remember to treat everyone with kindness and respect.

*copied and pasted my 10yr old daughter’s notes verbatim

Live Each Day As If It’s Your Last

Today, the dad of one very close friend passed on due to Coronavirus. After a year of trying to keep up with the new normal, I broke down. The virus has hit too close to home. It breaks my heart that I’m not able to physically comfort my friend; and as the Covid cases pile up to almost 10,000 a day, I can’t shake off the morbid thought that it can affect anyone close to me. Unfortunately, all I can do at this point is continue to pray and hope that we will come out of this pandemic alive and well.

As if Covid was not enough to slap me with anxiety, a few weeks ago my husband had a procedure for coronary artery disease; 2 of my high school batchmates passed on less than 2 weeks apart due to critical illness; a few days later, 1 close relative also lost her life; then I noticed how my social media timeline is full of people losing their love ones. If that doesn’t make you question your mortality, I don’t know what will.

The news of my friend’s dad’s passing reminded me that I haven’t hugged or kissed my parents since last year even when they’re just there. The thought suddenly pierced me with sadness. It made me question how many moments do I have left with my family, with my friends, with the world. I’ve been trying to take things one step at a time, but with every step I take, a sliver of time vanishes. The quarantine makes me feel as if time has been escaping behind me like an invisible current being sucked into an invisible vortex. The now will become the past in an instant and I can’t take back lost opportunities to seize moments with people I care for.

It is heartbreaking how the ephemerality of life unfolds before my eyes. The saying “live each day as if it’s your last” just holds so much truth and meaning now.

Day 1 of 365

I can’t believe 2020 is over. It halted as soon as it started. Plans were cancelled, many lives lost, livelihoods gone, our daily lives were never the same, news headlines left me heartbroken, then anxiety creeps in. I can’t even hug my parents just because we don’t live in the same house. I miss the warmth felt with every “hello” at work. I long to see my friends and eat with them without having to worry where they’ve been or how much space should be observed between each other. I wish to see my kids meet their friends in school.

I relatively had it easy compared to most people, but I can’t take away the fact that this year had been awfully hard for me too. I strived to find happiness and motivation in every little thing throughout the year. Albeit fleeting, it has kept me sane and grateful.

2020 has certainly been difficult and extraordinarily challenging, but it also made me appreciate things I have been taking for granted, like family, friends, and health. I become thankful for simple things like, not sitting on traffic every single working day, being able to eat home cooked meals, being able to afford things and share to those who can’t, being able to spend more time at home with family, and just the mere thought of being able to wake up on a daily basis.

It felt like the global pandemic has taken away time from me, as it distorted our way of living, but I realized that it just slowed me down a little, to make me see things that really matter. As I feel the uncertainty of tomorrow, it seems that there is no “right time”, there is just time and what you choose to do with it. So this new year, let us love more, hate less, learn something new, stay healthy, sing and dance unapologetically, connect with people as much as we connect to wifi, reconnect with old friends, cheer others up, and hopefully soon enough we’ll proudly look back at 2020 with a smile and think we did what we could, at a time when living means surviving, it has turned us to become better human beings.

Travelling with Kids: An Adventure Of Its Own

Hubby and I taking turns carrying the kids

I wonder how my husband and I survived travelling with toddlers, without helpers, and mostly without strollers. I remember how Kamie got sick in Indonesia and we had to spend a few hours in the hospital trying to get through the language barrier. She threw up on the plane, at a restaurant, in church and in a mall. She was 1 year old then. In HongKong, Kamie, who was 3 years old at that time, threw a tantrum in Disneyland because she’s too tired to walk. We didn’t rent a stroller because she won’t ride it anyway, so we had to take turns carrying her. I was wincing and sweaty while walking then would smile for the camera to have that quintessential travel photo. Muscle pains aside, I was still excited while we were in line to watch the Lion King performance, only for her to sleep through the whole show, and as if on cue, woke up as soon as the show was over.

I would never forget having to breast feed the 9-month old Makie behind a huge post in Seoul station because I can’t find a breastfeeding room. I would put out my boob in the middle of Myeong-dong, discreetly of course, to pacify a hungry baby. I had to stay behind the breastfeeding station in Gyeongbokgung Palace while everybody else was on tour, because it was feeding time when we got there. We rented a stroller in Everland, but Makie was an adamant baby who’d rather be carried than ride a stroller. If I wasn’t feeding, I was changing diapers on that trip! When Makie was 2, I remember how terrified I was when we went to Jiufen, when I realized I accidentally left Makie’s formula milk and bottles in our hotel in Taipei. We had to distract her the whole day and feed her whatever snack she wanted to make sure she forgets to ask for “dede”. She was 3 when we visited Tokyo, and as I shush her in the train, she would say “ayoko quiet!” out loud, while I endure the glares, imaginary or otherwise, from fellow passengers. It is during these moments when I would question myself why we choose a bed-wetter as our travel companion. I had to bribe the kids ice cream while we were in Mt. Fuji just for them to walk some more. Even the 9-year old Kamie becomes a handful when we travel.

We were visiting these places for the first time in our thirties while both of the kids are visiting these before they even turned 10. For sure they will forget most of the sights, the food, and the experience, and wouldn’t even care how much we’ve spent on these trips. But in hindsight, there’s no one I’d rather go, to experience different cultures, eat a variety of dishes I can’t cook at home, and see wonderful places with, than these small minions I can bribe with extra screen time and ice cream. As I look at our travel photos, I remember how happy they were, but I knew I was happier. At the end of each trip, I would be extremely exhausted but my heart would be amazingly full, because their smile just makes everything worth it.

Enjoying the Toddler Phase

Dear Makie,

Exhausting is an understatement to describe how it is to have a toddler like you.

The tantrums, the drama, and how you put my patience to the test.

I am confused with your defiance, wanting independence but being so demanding and clingy.

I can only roll my eyes and sigh when you don’t want me to hold you when walking on the street,

but wouldn’t go down the stairs unless I hold your hand, disregarding the fact that my hands are literally full.

It is a very trying stage, but I recently realized that it’s ironically my favorite.

It is at this stage when you require all of us to be in one room before you go to sleep.

You wait out on everybody and would force yourself to stay up to ensure we go to bed all at the same time.

You say “I love you” before you sleep and “I miss you” when you see us home after a day at work.

On a good day, you shower Daddy, Mommy and Ate hugs and kisses.

It is also at this stage where you always reach for mommy’s hand (my armpits most of the time) while you watch TV or read a book or just want to cuddle.

You also grab daddy’s face for a kiss right on the lips.

I look at how much your Ate has grown and wanted to halt time.  Sooner you will grow just like her.

For now, I want to freeze your sweet little voice, your annoying tantrums (so I can show them to you when you grow older).

Sometimes the day can feel so long and the tears seem endless, but I’m loving it.

Soon enough you will grow up and will not cry over mommy not letting you watch me pee or take a bath.

You won’t throw a fit when daddy wants to use a different pair of socks because your favorite one is wet and dirty; or Ate stepped first on the escalator.

You will not cry for sitting on a four hour flight anymore, and will not scream when you don’t get your way.

Soon crying over spilled milk will be gone. You will be facing life’s real challenges and tears will be for real heartaches.

So instead of wishing time to speed up, I’m enjoying every bit of it. I love you my little baby!

Mom

Happy 9th to My Little Lady

It’s been 9 years but I still remember all the struggles of you waking in the night, the toddler who wants to be up all night, the cost of vaccines, diapers and milk, the scratches and bruises of you running around.

I watched you learn to walk, dance, speak, count and read; how your eyes light up on our simple family celebrations. I have let you comfort me when I lost our babies. I let you stay in the hospital with me when I gave birth to your sister. I soaked in the magic of those moments.

I had to work and raise you. I remember taking leaves of absence when you’re sick or I’m needed in school. I’m just happy I didn’t have to help you with your homework. But even as I let you be, you still continuously surprise us with achievements every parent would be proud of.

You got into sports, and no matter how exhausting or expensive or painful it becomes, I am here to support you. You’re growing up so fast that I just woke up one day, and  you have your own choices to make.

Life is just so busy that I rarely even stop to think what the end of those days look like. A few years back, 9 years sounds like a long time. Then suddenly hours turn into days, days into months, and months into years.

That little girl that I used to carry and cuddle up to watch cartoons with suddenly becomes this awkward little lady who’s still very much a kid on the inside but is quickly turning into a beautiful independent-minded person on the outside.

You, attending an acquaintance party over the weekend made me wonder how time passed so quickly. In a few years time I’d have to let go a little more, but for now I will hold on as tight as I can to try not to miss a thing.