Thankful

ivoryhut monterey 2002

 
It’s been less than two weeks since the fire, but it feels much longer. Our days are spent trying to take care of the most important tasks, like replacing our identification documents, purchasing the essentials, and coordinating with our insurance agent and the State Farm adjuster so that we can continue moving forward. They gave us a few addresses to check out, places we could move into for the 10-12 months it might take to rebuild our house.

 
We’ve also started looking for one or two good used cars to replace the three that we lost. That part is a teeny bit easier because I’m a Honda girl, which really helps narrow down the search.

 
To say that the process has been trying—and tiring—is an understatement. When you lose all your documents, it’s easy to get stuck in an endless loop of non-identity. You can’t get a replacement license without 6 points of ID. But you can’t get the important points without a government-issued ID. Your car insurance company won’t release payment until they get the titles to the cars. Which you can’t get without your license. And even though you have car rental coverage on your cars, no rental agency will let you have a car without a license.

Family

ivoryhut fire

 
This is a post about loss and riches. About tears despite immense gratitude. And about the kind of love for neighbor that binds us all together.

 
But first, let me tell you a story of how four little girls made a grown woman cry. It was two days after the fire, and Tom and I were on the way to the house—or what’s left of our house—to pick up our mail. On our way there, we passed our neighbor’s house, and his daughters had a cute little lemonade stand in front of their house.

In an instant

Last night, my head was preoccupied with last-minute work on a special project and putting the finishing touches on a post. My husband Tom and I had also been discussing the logistics of possibly attending BlogHer Food 2010 in San Francisco. These were the things that weighed on my mind.

 
A mere hour or so later—an instant, really—we were outside, in our shirts and shorts, watching our house crumble as it was engulfed in flames. I’ll never forget that hissing and crackling noise as my husband’s home of almost 30 years practically disintegrated before our eyes.

 
But we were safe. All of us. Our son Tim, without hesitation, ran back inside when he realized his grandmother was sleeping upstairs. By the time he got to her, it was too late to try and exit the house the same way he came in. Fortunately, Tom had devised a fire escape plan years ago, and Tim was able to bodily carry his feeble 82-year-old grandmother out the window, onto the roof, and eventually down on the deck. The sight of this brave son of mine carrying his grandmother as he ran down the lawn and away from the house is one I will never forget.

The Circle Of Lamb

Two months ago, I was at my local library borrowing Pam Anderson’s “How to Cook Without A Book” and quickly going through my new stack of post-its to mark the pages. How I got from there to having the amazing trio of Pam, Maggy and Sharon of Three Many Cooks guest post in my blog is still a bit of a mystery to me. But I do know that I’m incredibly fortunate to have gotten to know them, especially Maggy, who already feels like an old friend. Pam and her daughters are just about the warmest, most giving, and absolutely genuine people I’ve never met in person. That “never met in person” part will change soon, but I’ll save that for a future post.

Thanks for sharing yet another glimpse into your wonderful family, Pam!

—With love and much admiration, Ivoryhut

 
 
The Circle Of Lamb
By Pam Anderson
Related recipe: Tandoori-Spiced Grilled Butterflied Lamb

 
There isn’t a cut of lamb we ThreeManyCooks don’t love. We adore shanks and stews in winter. Come spring we feast on racks. When the weather warms, we grill boned and spice-rubbed leg or shoulder for easy get-togethers.

 
But it’s been a long time getting here. When Maggy and Sharon (my daughters and two of the “three cooks in Pam Anderson’s kitchen”) were ten and twelve, they announced their new status: vegetarian.

 
It was nearly fifteen years ago when the V-bomb was dropped on me. I suppose a good mother would have allowed the choice, maybe even commended them for their ethical maturity. But since I made my living writing about the ultimate prime rib, the best pork ribs, and perfect leg of lamb, I wasn’t about to let my pre-adolescent daughters dictate my lifestyle and career. They knew the house rules. I was a professional cook, but I wasn’t running a restaurant. There was no menu. We shared the same meal.

 
They howled, I compromised. That day we three struck a deal. I excused them from pork, beef and lamb if they would eat poultry and fish. That’s how it went until they left for college.

 
Ultimately, it was good for us all. I saved them from a decade of excessive junk food consumption (it’s awfully easy for “vegetarian” teens to forswear meat for things like Barbeque Chips and Cheetos). And I helped them stick to their commitment—without dishes like turkey meatloaf, spaghetti & (turkey) meatballs, and chicken burgers, they would have probably caved pretty quickly.

 
But, for their part, they saved my husband and me from a decade of excessive red meat consumption. Except for the occasional steak or rack of lamb we’d enjoy when they weren’t around, we pretty much stuck to poultry and fish.

 
But eventually Maggy and Sharon circled back. Maggy landed in London with a seriously carnivorous boyfriend (now husband). When it was time to meet his grandmother and feast on one of her Sunday roast lamb dinners, Maggy decided not to make a scene and stomach the lamb. Turns out, she liked it. In fact, it’s her favorite. After spending five relatively meatless months in Malawi last year, Maggy requested lamb stew as her first meal back in the US.

 
Between Sharon’s post-college stint at Fine Cooking magazine and her food-loving boyfriend, Tony, she’s re-introduced herself to red meat too. Lamb is also one of her favorites. Their first meal as a couple at our house: lamb shanks. Second meal: rack of lamb.

 
And me? Fifteen years after my daughters’ plea, I now eat vegetarian at least two days a week. But whenever we ThreeManyCooks get together for a special meal, like as not, lamb is somewhere on the menu.

 

 
 

How I relax

It’s Friday! Time to get ready to bid the work week goodbye. (Haha. “Work week.” It almost sounds like I have a normal life, doesn’t it?)

 
In case you’ve had a hectic week (like I have), and need a bit of help unwinding (like I do), here’s what usually works for me:

 
First, I close my eyes, grab a nice refreshing glass of iced tea or lemonade, and then imagine that I’m in a place like—actually, wait. I should grab the nice refreshing drink first before closing my eyes. I’m clumsy enough as it is, without attempting to handle breakables with my eyes shut.

 
Let’s try this again.

 
Okay, now I’m just going to grab a beer (notice how I tried to slip that change in all nice and subtle-like), take a few sips, then set it on the nightstand for later. Then I lie down and close my eyes, take a few deep, relaxing breaths, and imagine that I’m in a place like this:

 

 
 
Resting in one of these:

 

 
 
Doing nothing but relaxing, until someone brings me this:

 

buko

 
 
Is it working yet? Can you feel all that stress melt away? Is your mouth feeling a bit parched for a cold drink? Are you suddenly remembering the familiar scent of Tropicana suntan lotion?

 
Sometimes though, reminiscing about tropical vacations just isn’t enough. Some weeks are just that crazy. When that happens, I bring out the iPod and my headphones and pull out the ace up my sleeve that always ALWAYS works. No, it’s not a soothing classical piece, and it isn’t even one of those rock songs that can usually get me going. The ace up my sleeve is a 26-second recording of my niece Bianca when she a baby.

 

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I’m telling you. For all the years I’ve been listening and re-listening to this, it never ever fails to put a smile on my face and start me giggling.

 
Which sometimes gets me into trouble, although frankly, it’s completely understandable. Because if I walked in on someone laying in bed with her eyes closed, headphones on, smiling and giggling like crazy, and then spotted the drink on the nightstand? I’d be asking for an explanation, too.

 
 

about me

I write, cook, play music, and make pictures. Not necessarily in that order. I was born and raised in the Philippines, and it shows. That means I eat rice with every meal, love my cousins like my own siblings, and firmly believe that avocados are best eaten with cream and sugar.

If you want to learn more about me, here are 43 things I'd like to do. Here's a little something about my name, in case you were wondering. Here are some other places you'll find me:

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LOST AND FOUND

One summer night in 2010, our house burned to the ground and we lost everything we had. This is the story of what happened and how life and hope can always rise from ashes.



I'm proud to belong to an amazing community of Filipino food lovers. Together, we celebrate this often-neglected Asian cuisine, sharing our family's treasured recipes and discovering new ones along the way. This is our club.
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