books and breaths

It is April and this is only my third post. 

Funny thing is that my writing mojo isn't amiss or anything, I just...didn't write.

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The past year I had been randomly reading yoga books--and these books aren't the kind you stay all night up for to get to the end.  These are those books you read one page of, then need a month to apply the theory so you can read the next. 

As yoga is a journey, I truly do not know how long it will take or how many times I'd need to read these lessons.

Even now when I see the trail of books at home mostly partially read, it doesn't discourage me.  It in fact, reminds me that there are many aspects of yoga, thus the book pile.

What I do know is that after years of hearing (not truly listening) the teacher in class, I finally am able to get it into my head, heart and mind how important breath is.

Breathe.  Don't forget to breathe.

This is as common as traffic lights in highways as it is in yoga classes.

I find that I am always reminded. 

Create space. 

Send your breath to where there is tightness.

Strong breaths.

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I truly do not like 'measuring' how far I have gone in terms of my yoga journey.

But I can say that my awareness and mindfulness of breath had helped me dramatically.  The change may be one millimeter visually, but inside--within me, I feel the shift.
 
Alignments suddenly happen and I began to feel new "muscles" or areas that perhaps were not being energised before.

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There are still days when I seem unable to do any poses.  And this is something I need to accept and respect.

Perhaps, these are the days I ought to focus on just breathing.  Nothing else.

FIGHT CLUBish Project: Rendering Lard

So what did you do over the weekend?

Well... I tried two new restos. Watched a musical.  Went to a yoga class.

BUT, I feel the highlight of my weekend was, rendering LARD.

Yes.  LARD.  LARD.

Pork fat.  Solid at room temperature.

What people typically associate heart attacks with. 

While there is reasonable material on lard versus vegetable oil--at how it leads to debunking the common  belief that the latter is better, I am not about to write about health and nutrition.  There is much literature out there, if you want to read more.

The drivers for me to do this mini project are:

(1) Curiosity :)
(2) Enhanced food flavour 
(3) Experience using 'new' ingredients
(4) Healthier Option (can't hurt)

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I like learning how to do things "from scratch". 

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I got the idea when my cousin in law posted about my cousin's much improved health screening reports after making a switch in fats used on their food.  I was so happy for him that he was getting in better shape.

There were photos of the 'before' and 'after' screening results, as well as images of lard and the process that my cousin in law took to render it.

I KNEW, I HAD TO TRY IT.

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While I am grateful that both my husband and myself were congratulated by the doctor after our annual exams, I thought that making small changes here and there won't hurt.

AND I REALLY, REALLY, REALLY want to try this whole lard thing :)

I did some reading on how to do this 'the right way', as in no rushing and keeping the temperature low.




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It is not an easy road to two jars of lard, but what I got should last us a couple of months. 

My steps would like be MUCH different from those you can find online.  


Step 1: Cut the fat, the smaller the better, but don't obsess.  

It doesn't need to be perfect.  Keep them reasonable small.  If you miss some, there won't be any catastrophic repercussions.  

Step 2: Place fat in your favorite pumpkin shaped Dutch Oven set on low heat.

You can add some water, if you like.  I did, a little.  It will all evaporate anyways.

the first rule of Fight Club is... err..

Step 3: Wait (and wait).  Read the book your best friend gave you for Christmas in the meantime.

It took me four hours to get to the state where I was comfortable to saying it was done. 

This should be based on the colour of the crackling (heaven's gift).  

Step 4: "Harvest" into the jamming jars you bought even if you don't plan to make jam (remembering how 3 jars of grape jam sat there forever), and don't really like jam.

I ended up going back and fourth steps 3 and 4.  I didn't want to risk 'burning' everything if I fell asleep! 
 
You are supposed to strain the oil / fat though a cheese cloth on top of a well, strainer.  

I had neither a strainer nor cheese cloth.  I just poured the oil into my jars.

No biggie.  Not the end of the world.

Step 5: Watch the oil cool into a solid state :)

This was my favorite part!  

Snow White
can't be happier with the end result.

Step 6: Collect the crackling and store.

Don't let anything go to waste!  I got the "remains" of my pork fat, pressed then down and cut them into strips.  These will go to my stir fry bee hon, I think.  Or my porridge.

the 'healthiest' chicharon option

Is it worth it?  I'd say the whole experience and the excellent turn out made it worth the effort.  

Who knows?  Maybe it will be a staple in my kitchen.

Pancit: For Long Life

Happy new year!

Coming back from our holiday, our ref is close to empty of fresh ingredients.  We were quite successful clearing our stash before flying out.  

This meant alternative ingredients, which is always a lot of fun.

Since it was the 31st, I thought I'd surprise my husband by cooking a Filipino dish I have never cooked before.  PANCIT.

There are a lot of variations to this dish.  In Singapore they use the beehoon as the carbs component of a dish then you get to pick the viand such as egg, luncheon meat, stir fried string beans... a wide assortment, really.

In the Philippines, all the ingredients are already mixed into the noodles, think fried rice.

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Equipped with hazy cooking instructions from my sister, brown rice vermicelli, carrots, onion, garlic and chinese sausage, I started cooking.  

I added the sliced lettuce in place of cabbage, I thought it worked bringing some freshness to the dish.  Like I said, I didn't have the 'correct' ingredients... 

calamansi please

This sat in front of my husband for late lunch.  He takes one bite, smiles, looks at me and says "Thank you, it is so good... like real pancit".

new season

season ii

A few months ago, we brought home the healthiest calamansi plant you can imagine.  It was filled with both fruits and flowers.

For a few months, I enjoyed cutting off random fruit to add to dishes I prepared for my husband.  Life was good.

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I then start to notice that there were no new flowers.  Leaves began to fall off too.  

I immediately asked my Dad what to do, he said that it was normal.  He said that the old leaves fall off to make way for new blooms.

Of course I believed him, but I can't help but think that my plant was, sick.

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A few weeks ago, as I was watering my plant when I noticed new blooms!  Not two nor three put maybe close to a dozen.  Maybe even over a dozen, I was too excited to count!

I took a few photos using my phone so I can show my Mom.  

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It is funny how I would never have able to identify these flowers as that of a calamansi.  Even when we first got the plant, the flowers were there only for a few days so you hardly have time to memorise how it looked like.

Sometimes I guess, I forget to make time to really see.

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As you have guessed, all the blooms are gone now and I am left for numerous small dots--promises of an abundant harvest.

TAG. You're IT.

I had been feeling frustrated.

My sister had given me a number of luggage tags; all of them in plastic--just like a credit card, with basic information about myself.

During random trips, as I pull by luggage off the conveyor belt, I’d notice that the tag had split, cracked or gone missing.

From say eight tags, I am not down to, well, zero.

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I looked around for more durable luggage tags here, but I’d find the reasonably priced ones flimsy and the good sturdy leather ones, too expensive. 

So I looked online.

And looked.

And looked some more.

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I came across an online store that offered bespoke pieces, small pieces.  Admittedly, they were not cheap, but I felt that somehow their rates were reasonable.

It did not hurt that they were very prompt in their replies and accommodating—things I highly appreciate.

I ordered four tags, one for my husband’s luggage, two for myself—one for each of my luggages, and another for my brother in law.  No idea where he would use it, but I can imagine him making full use of it.

I'm yours.

It was a long wait.  I must say.

BUT…

It was well worth the wait!

There were three styles available and I can’t decide which I like best.  All three styles / shades were so beautiful.

It was just a bonus that these were handmade.

The leather they used were of good quality, I especially love the contrast stitching and the old school feel of the typeset.

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Stopping myself for placing orders again.

in your loving arms

For a couple of weeks now, I had been contemplating about the end.  

Death.  

Perhaps... about how fleeting life is.  

And how I tend to take it for granted, living.

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A meeting with a friend got cancelled last minute yesterday, she needed to go to a funeral.  Someone close to her who had been battling a disease for more than six month, lost.    

I do not fool myself thinking my words would take the pain away.  Unlike time--to a certain extent.  Still, it was to hoping that our exchange somehow gave her something, no matter how seemingly insignificant.  

Something.

The end, even when 'expected' still catch people by surprise, at least for me.  It is as if hoping for, in brief moments--expecting a miracle.  That at the last minute, the guiding hand would grant a big bonus.  

Of course, this is dreaming.  Dreaming for life where there is no pain and nobody leaves.  A world that is quite obviously, not this one.

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It was a Wednesday when a good friend got in touch with me to tell me about her loss.

Up to this moment, I still feel her pain.  Choking a little.

Maybe, it is because to some extent I felt the happiness from the short life they spent together.

The end... it takes us back to the beginning.  It allows us to see the wonder at the middle, the small joys that easily get lost in between one day and the next.

It bookmarks meaningful passages and perfect-imperfect moments.  Experiences that define human relationships.  Expressions of love.   

There are times when the best and hardest thing to do is to do nothing.  For now I choose to do that, to be there for her through the act of prayer.  She knows.  I wait.

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Yesterday, as I was playing a song to my husband and I walked up to him so he could take me in his arms.

I stayed there quietly, being held by him.

My head against his beating heart.

Grateful.  

allow your soul

In Singapore, someone is always coming or leaving.  Lately, more are leaving.  At least amongst the people I know.

Why do people leave?  Some friends got married and followed their spouses, some were relocated by their employers, some lost their jobs, some want to spend more time with their families, some just decided it was time to move on.

Whatever reason or circumstance, I always get affected by news of someone leaving.  It may be a friend I hardly see, but perhaps it is not how it affects my everyday life but rather the idea of the dwindling number of 'significant' or somewhat 'familiar' people around me.  As in, 'on this island'.  Physically.

It sometimes make you wonder why this place seems more like a pitstop rather than the destination.  

Is it truly difficult to grow root here? 

Is that truly the case?  Because this feels like home to me.  When I go on holiday, no matter how great the holiday when I get to the airport, I feel like I am nearing home. 

When I lay down at night, it feels like home. 

But why does news of migration make me doubt that?  Not unlike when 'everyone' is in on a secret and it is only you who is unaware.

Doubt. 

Doubt is good, because it keeps you aware.  It means that you are thinking.  You are concious. 

But too much doubt also means second guessing, instability and lack of trust.  It encourages feelings of restlessness and maybe, insecurity.

I think I need a mantra, To remind me that I am exactly where I am intended to be. 

I never intended for this blog entry to be religious, but it is interesting that in times of doubt, I find myself unconsiously making reference to religious text.  Perhaps it is the guiding hand reminding me to KEEP FAITH.

I will close off this entry with short prayer I read a long time ago and I loved, I had come across it perhaps more than a decade ago, but it never left me.  Maybe this is just what I need.  My mantra.

May today there be peace within.May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be.May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith.May you use those gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you.May you be content knowing that you are a child of God.Let this presence settle into our bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love.It is there for each and everyone of you.