Yeah, you heard me. VE.GE.TA.RI.AN...
Two nights ago, I decided not to have dinner because I had had a very late lunch. So, naturally, after deciding on no dinner, I promptly got hungry. Since I never could get behind tinolang manok, and our cupboard is due for another major trip to Shopwise, I had to make do with what little was left in our fridge. By "little" I mean "no more meat" which would have, ordinarily, sucked. But deprivation breeds resourcefulness and some good came out of this no meat situation, in the form of a new recipe for a spicy snack, herein so detailed...
Spicy Tomato Dip/Sauce/Palaman/Whatever on Whole Wheat Crackers:
Ingredients (for single serving):
1 medium sized tomato, diced
1 tsp olive oil
basil and italian herbs to taste
salt and pepper to taste
1-2 dash/es cayenne pepper or paprika (optional, for spice)
1 tsp light mayonnaise
1 tsp mustard
3-4 whole wheat crackers (the new Rebisco crackers are awesome!)
Procedure:
1. Mix all ingredients (save the mayo, mustard, and crackers) in a small bowl.
2. Blitz in microwave for 1-2 minutes, or until tomatoes are soft.
3. Stir in mayo and mustard.
4. Spread on to crackers.
5. Enjoy.
Yesterday, I walked all the way from the Ortigas office where I work part-time to the MRT station in Ortigas. Got off at Cubao and walked around, bought some stuff in, Gateway mall. Took the LRT. Got off at Katipunan then walked home. So I was walking a total of 1 and a half hours. To reward myself, I made some vegetarian tortillas for dinner. No meat is all right if you can have beans. Beans, baby. Beans...
Tomato and Refried Bean Dip/Sauce/Filling/Whatever on Tortillas:
Ingredients:
1 can fat free refried beans
3-4 medium sized tomatoes, diced
1 tbsp garlic, minced
1 tbsp onion, minced
herbs to taste
barbecue seasoning (with chilies) to taste
salt and pepper to taste
1-2 dash/es cayenne pepper or paprika (optional, for spice)
1/2 cup tomato ketchup
1/4 cup warm water
shredded cabbage
grated cheese (optional)
small tortillas
Procedure:
1. Saute garlic and onions.
2. Add tomatoes. Sprinkle salt and pepper.
3. Add herbs. Stir until tomatoes are soft.
4. Add refried beans and some water to thin it out a bit.
5. Add tomato ketchup and cayenne pepper. Simmer til thick.
6. Heat tortillas in a pan.
7. Spread generous amount of tomato-refried bean stuff.
8. Top with cabbage and/or cheese.
9. (Optional) Heat til cheese melts.
10. Enjoy.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Going Tropical
Yesterday, I was walking along Quezon Avenue when I, seemingly suddenly, got a hankering for a Tropical Hut hamburger. It was midday, time for lunch, and I was contemplating going into Red Ribbon for some empanada and palabok. Then I remembered that there was a Tropical Hut at the other side of the road. The last time I ate a Tropical Hut hamburger was maybe 7 years ago when my mom brought home a couple for me. Tropical Hut isn't exactly a bright red spot on the burger radar like McDonalds or Jollibee. Which is really, if you think about it, a strange thing because Tropical Hut hamburgers actually taste great. The only reason I've not eaten some in the past years is because there's not too many Tropical Hut branches around Metro Manila anymore. So when I get a craving for a burger, I go with either the McDonalds Quarter Pounder or Double Cheeseburger or the Jollibee Champ. If I feel like gourmet burgers then it's Brothers or HotShots. Invariably, Tropical Hut gets pushed out of the picture. No blinking red spot on the radar.
So thank goodness I was in the vicinity of the only Tropical Hut branch I know in Quezon City. And thank goodness I was hungry at that time. I was overdue a taste of Tropical Hut burger, with the firm yet fluffy sesame seed bun and the burger pattie that tastes like a joining of beef, pork, kinchay, and spices. It's the pattie that often makes the difference for me, and Tropical Hut's burger patties are soft and feel almost crumbly. They're not greasy and they remind me a lot of the concept of the 5th taste, Umami. The meat slides down your throat like tasty, crumbly tofu.
I'm glad I opted to go Tropical yesterday.
So thank goodness I was in the vicinity of the only Tropical Hut branch I know in Quezon City. And thank goodness I was hungry at that time. I was overdue a taste of Tropical Hut burger, with the firm yet fluffy sesame seed bun and the burger pattie that tastes like a joining of beef, pork, kinchay, and spices. It's the pattie that often makes the difference for me, and Tropical Hut's burger patties are soft and feel almost crumbly. They're not greasy and they remind me a lot of the concept of the 5th taste, Umami. The meat slides down your throat like tasty, crumbly tofu.
I'm glad I opted to go Tropical yesterday.
Monday, July 14, 2008
A Good Day...
...can begin in many different ways. It can begin with waking up from a sweet dream or the deepest, dreamless sleep you've had since statistics class in college. It can begin a bit later with tocino, fried egg, and fried rice, washed down with creamy, sugary brewed coffee. It can begin still a bit later, on the way to meet a friend, in a cab being driven by a most curious fellow.
I didn't get his name. I neither needed nor wanted it. It was going to be like any other cab ride. The driver, as far as I was concerned, needed only to keep quiet as he wove his way from Katipunan to North Avenue. Conversation was not a requirement, especially not if it covered the oft-repeated Cab Driver's Lament: "Gas is up; my profit's down. Want to give me 150 pesos for a 75 peso ride?"
But somewhere along C.P. Garcia, Cabbie and I started the most wonderful, insightful discussion about Psychology, its uses and applications, the implications of imposing psychological knowledge and metaphor--with its assumptions of self and individualism--on local communities, its stand on the question of God, and what makes it different from fortune-telling.
Cabbie asked the following questions, questions that not all psychologists ask themselves. He asked, "Meron po ba talagang natutulong yang counseling na hindi ko makukuha kung magkekwento lang ako sa kaibigan ko?" In English and in slightly more academic terms, this question translates to "How does the therapeutic relationship differ from, and how is it better than, an ordinary friendship?"
Cabbie asked, "Ang mga tulad niyo po bang psychologist naniniwala sa Diyos?" ("Do psychologists believe in God?")
Cabbie also asked, "Ano po ang pagkakaiba ng ginagawa ninyo sa ginagawa ng manghuhula?" ("What makes your work different from what a fortune teller does?")
Cabbie asked many other related, and pertinent, questions which all got me thinking about my work and its place in the grand idea of supposed helping. I told Cabbie that those were good questions he was asking. And he said that he was just like me, curious and full of questions, and that his job is the best because it gives him the opportunity to talk to different kinds of people.
Cabbie and I parted ways at the SM Hypermart. I went on to meet my friend. And my good day continued to Binondo where said friend Muriel, I, and two other friends, Angela and Belen, went on a WOKing tour of the place, courtesy of Old Manila Walks.
For 850 pesos (of which Muriel and I only paid 500, thanks to good ol' Len's generosity), we got to sample the various gastronomic fare that Chinatown offers. We had thick chocolate e at a stall that sells 10 tableas for only 58 pesos (unsweetened), which is around 30 pesos cheaper than in supermarkets. Then we had Fookien/Hokkien fried rice, fishball soup, and iced brewed coffee at Cafe Mezzanine. After that, we walked to a small eatery owned by a BS couple, as in Bagong Salta (or newly arrived/migrated), and were served steamed pork-kinchay and shrimp dumplings and this fluffy, crispy fried pancakes stuffed with meat and veggies. Then we had chicken egg preserved in tea a couple of streets away. And after that, fried siopao. The last stop was at a lumpia house in an art deco building, where we ate a meat and veggie lumpia with the chewiest wrap and lots of mung bean sprouts, carrots, minced pork, shrimps, green onions, etc.
For pasalubong, I bought 3 kinds of hopia (which means "good cookie" because, of course, when you eat hopia, you can't help but say, "This is good cookie!") and authentic kikiam. Not that fake stuff we buy off the streets at 10 pesos per 3 tiny pieces. No, this is the real stuff, with the wrinkly wrap made of soy and the minced pork and veggie with no extenders. I got my first taste of authentic kikiam (and I know I'm not calling it by its correct name, but I forgot) when I was around 5 years old. I think it was at a food fair organized by our church. Or something. I just remember these huge white tents and all these stalls serving different kinds of food. I remember nothing else of what I ate, save for the kikiam drenched in sweet peanut sauce. It always does my heart glad to revisit food memories. I can't wait to have my first taste of original Chinese kikiam and see if it really is the stuff that makes 5-year-olds eat, savor, dream, and remember.
A good day ends in as many different ways as it started. It can end with going home, stomach and mind full, to sisters who await your arrival. As mine did.
I didn't get his name. I neither needed nor wanted it. It was going to be like any other cab ride. The driver, as far as I was concerned, needed only to keep quiet as he wove his way from Katipunan to North Avenue. Conversation was not a requirement, especially not if it covered the oft-repeated Cab Driver's Lament: "Gas is up; my profit's down. Want to give me 150 pesos for a 75 peso ride?"
But somewhere along C.P. Garcia, Cabbie and I started the most wonderful, insightful discussion about Psychology, its uses and applications, the implications of imposing psychological knowledge and metaphor--with its assumptions of self and individualism--on local communities, its stand on the question of God, and what makes it different from fortune-telling.
Cabbie asked the following questions, questions that not all psychologists ask themselves. He asked, "Meron po ba talagang natutulong yang counseling na hindi ko makukuha kung magkekwento lang ako sa kaibigan ko?" In English and in slightly more academic terms, this question translates to "How does the therapeutic relationship differ from, and how is it better than, an ordinary friendship?"
Cabbie asked, "Ang mga tulad niyo po bang psychologist naniniwala sa Diyos?" ("Do psychologists believe in God?")
Cabbie also asked, "Ano po ang pagkakaiba ng ginagawa ninyo sa ginagawa ng manghuhula?" ("What makes your work different from what a fortune teller does?")
Cabbie asked many other related, and pertinent, questions which all got me thinking about my work and its place in the grand idea of supposed helping. I told Cabbie that those were good questions he was asking. And he said that he was just like me, curious and full of questions, and that his job is the best because it gives him the opportunity to talk to different kinds of people.
Cabbie and I parted ways at the SM Hypermart. I went on to meet my friend. And my good day continued to Binondo where said friend Muriel, I, and two other friends, Angela and Belen, went on a WOKing tour of the place, courtesy of Old Manila Walks.
For 850 pesos (of which Muriel and I only paid 500, thanks to good ol' Len's generosity), we got to sample the various gastronomic fare that Chinatown offers. We had thick chocolate e at a stall that sells 10 tableas for only 58 pesos (unsweetened), which is around 30 pesos cheaper than in supermarkets. Then we had Fookien/Hokkien fried rice, fishball soup, and iced brewed coffee at Cafe Mezzanine. After that, we walked to a small eatery owned by a BS couple, as in Bagong Salta (or newly arrived/migrated), and were served steamed pork-kinchay and shrimp dumplings and this fluffy, crispy fried pancakes stuffed with meat and veggies. Then we had chicken egg preserved in tea a couple of streets away. And after that, fried siopao. The last stop was at a lumpia house in an art deco building, where we ate a meat and veggie lumpia with the chewiest wrap and lots of mung bean sprouts, carrots, minced pork, shrimps, green onions, etc.
For pasalubong, I bought 3 kinds of hopia (which means "good cookie" because, of course, when you eat hopia, you can't help but say, "This is good cookie!") and authentic kikiam. Not that fake stuff we buy off the streets at 10 pesos per 3 tiny pieces. No, this is the real stuff, with the wrinkly wrap made of soy and the minced pork and veggie with no extenders. I got my first taste of authentic kikiam (and I know I'm not calling it by its correct name, but I forgot) when I was around 5 years old. I think it was at a food fair organized by our church. Or something. I just remember these huge white tents and all these stalls serving different kinds of food. I remember nothing else of what I ate, save for the kikiam drenched in sweet peanut sauce. It always does my heart glad to revisit food memories. I can't wait to have my first taste of original Chinese kikiam and see if it really is the stuff that makes 5-year-olds eat, savor, dream, and remember.
A good day ends in as many different ways as it started. It can end with going home, stomach and mind full, to sisters who await your arrival. As mine did.
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
Salad and a Coffee, Please
Spicy Coffee
I've been enjoying Colombian coffee the past couple of months, thanks to my sis and brother-in-law who gave me almost half a kilo of the good stuff. Since Ate My also gave me some ground cinnamon, I've been spicing up my coffee, ovaltine, and coffee-ovaltine with it. Today, I added another spice to my coffee: cayenne pepper. It added more heat to my coffee.
Ingredients:
ground coffee, 1 tbsp to brew 1 cup
cinnamon, 2-3 dashes
cayenne pepper, 2-3 dashes
muscovado sugar, 1 1/2 tsp (not so sweet)
creamer, 1 tsp
optional: chocolate malt powder or cocoa powder, 1 tsp
Procedure:
1. Put ground coffee, cinnamon, and cayenne pepper in manual coffee press.
2. Pour hot water into press. Brew for 3-5 minutes. Then press down.
3. Pour coffee in your favorite cup or mug. Add sugar, creamer, and choco powder.
4. Stir. Wait to cool a bit. Then, enjoy.
Easy-Peasy Everyday Salad
Ingredients:
store-bought salad greens
juice from 2 pcs calamansi (for single serving)
honey, 1 tsp
oil, 1 tsp (for asian flavor, use sesame oil; for mediterranean, use olive oil)
Procedure:
1. Mix calamansi juice, honey, and oil.
2. Pour over salad greens.
3. Let sit for a bit. Then, enjoy as side salad. Or, add grilled tuna flakes and brown or red rice for a full meal.
I've been enjoying Colombian coffee the past couple of months, thanks to my sis and brother-in-law who gave me almost half a kilo of the good stuff. Since Ate My also gave me some ground cinnamon, I've been spicing up my coffee, ovaltine, and coffee-ovaltine with it. Today, I added another spice to my coffee: cayenne pepper. It added more heat to my coffee.
Ingredients:
ground coffee, 1 tbsp to brew 1 cup
cinnamon, 2-3 dashes
cayenne pepper, 2-3 dashes
muscovado sugar, 1 1/2 tsp (not so sweet)
creamer, 1 tsp
optional: chocolate malt powder or cocoa powder, 1 tsp
Procedure:
1. Put ground coffee, cinnamon, and cayenne pepper in manual coffee press.
2. Pour hot water into press. Brew for 3-5 minutes. Then press down.
3. Pour coffee in your favorite cup or mug. Add sugar, creamer, and choco powder.
4. Stir. Wait to cool a bit. Then, enjoy.
Easy-Peasy Everyday Salad
Ingredients:
store-bought salad greens
juice from 2 pcs calamansi (for single serving)
honey, 1 tsp
oil, 1 tsp (for asian flavor, use sesame oil; for mediterranean, use olive oil)
Procedure:
1. Mix calamansi juice, honey, and oil.
2. Pour over salad greens.
3. Let sit for a bit. Then, enjoy as side salad. Or, add grilled tuna flakes and brown or red rice for a full meal.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Bad, Bochog. Bad!
I've been a bad, bad, non-posting girl. It's not like I have not been eating since my last post this past April. And it's not like I've not had any food-related thoughts or foodgasms the past almost 2 months! I have. I've just been busy with non-food related endeavors, such as earning money... to buy more food.
I even missed writing about my birthday last month, my 30th, my entrance into the 3rd decade. My birthday, which I share with the following pseudo-famous folks: 1) Dennis Hopper, bad guy in Speed; 2) Bob Saget, one of the dads in Full House; 3) Jordan Knight, of the New Kids on the Block (who have just reunited, fyi); and 4) Andrea Corr, lead singer of The Corrs. (I like to know these things).
That blows.
I, in fact, had a lovely birthday dinner with my family (except Daddy, who's in the US right now), the college best pal, and friends from grad school. I enjoyed the company and, equally importantly--oh who am I kidding, when I say "equally" we all know I really mean "more"... so, more importantly, I enjoyed the catered food. Yes, catered. Nothing but good stuff to mark my exit from 20-something angst and entrance into 30-something lassitude. So, if I may be allowed this indulgence (and please, forget the fact that this blog is one massive indulgence anyway), I present... My 30th Birthday Dinner Menu:
Shrimp and Potato Salad - Shrimps, boiled eggs, diced potatoes, tomatoes, on a bed of salad greens. With mayo-based dressing.
Lasagna - Enough said.
Lengua - Ox tongue with mushrooms in a buttery sauce. Heart-clogging.
Chicken Relleno
Lumpiang Shanghai
Buko Pandan Cream. Strips of coconut meat, sago, and pandan flavored gelatin, in cream sauce.
There was no cake, however. I had thought about getting myself a cake, it being a birthday and all. But, at the last minute, I decided this celebration did not really need a cake. It needed only me. Besides, I'd already stuffed myself silly with cake from the sisters' birthdays so I temporarily lost my taste for it. The Buko Pandan Cream worked spectacularly as dessert and no one missed, or asked for, cake. Of course, it's possible they were just being polite. I don't particularly care.
I say there was no need for cake. There was no need for cake.
I think I'm trying to convince myself.
I even missed writing about my birthday last month, my 30th, my entrance into the 3rd decade. My birthday, which I share with the following pseudo-famous folks: 1) Dennis Hopper, bad guy in Speed; 2) Bob Saget, one of the dads in Full House; 3) Jordan Knight, of the New Kids on the Block (who have just reunited, fyi); and 4) Andrea Corr, lead singer of The Corrs. (I like to know these things).
That blows.
I, in fact, had a lovely birthday dinner with my family (except Daddy, who's in the US right now), the college best pal, and friends from grad school. I enjoyed the company and, equally importantly--oh who am I kidding, when I say "equally" we all know I really mean "more"... so, more importantly, I enjoyed the catered food. Yes, catered. Nothing but good stuff to mark my exit from 20-something angst and entrance into 30-something lassitude. So, if I may be allowed this indulgence (and please, forget the fact that this blog is one massive indulgence anyway), I present... My 30th Birthday Dinner Menu:
Shrimp and Potato Salad - Shrimps, boiled eggs, diced potatoes, tomatoes, on a bed of salad greens. With mayo-based dressing.
Lasagna - Enough said.
Lengua - Ox tongue with mushrooms in a buttery sauce. Heart-clogging.
Chicken Relleno
Lumpiang Shanghai
Buko Pandan Cream. Strips of coconut meat, sago, and pandan flavored gelatin, in cream sauce.
There was no cake, however. I had thought about getting myself a cake, it being a birthday and all. But, at the last minute, I decided this celebration did not really need a cake. It needed only me. Besides, I'd already stuffed myself silly with cake from the sisters' birthdays so I temporarily lost my taste for it. The Buko Pandan Cream worked spectacularly as dessert and no one missed, or asked for, cake. Of course, it's possible they were just being polite. I don't particularly care.
I say there was no need for cake. There was no need for cake.
I think I'm trying to convince myself.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Still Speaking of Cake
The Saturday after Ditchie's, Ate My celebrated her own birthday with family, friends, and a huge Estrel's lemon caramel cake. It was a beautiful cake, creamy custard between 2 layers of soft chiffon cake and covered in velvety icing. It was cake that you could eat any time of the day, any day of the week, a cake that can make ordinary days into special occasions and special occasions into seminal events. Safe to say I wasn't the only one who loved the cake (and the rest of the food, which was catered by my mom's best friend). That huge rectangle was gone by night's end. Of course, Mama had to take home a small slab of it for us to polish off--which we did the next day.
There's something about Estrel's cake. I think it's the custard filling. It's not actually sweet but it's not bland either. It's creamy yet light. So is the icing. Which is pretty dangerous because you don't feel like you've eaten enough. So you get one more slice, and one more, and one more. The next thing you know, half of it's gone and you haven't even finished the cup of coffee that you brewed to go with it.
There's only one person I know who doesn't like Estrel's, that's Ditchie. It's only because she doesn't really like caramel and custard cakes. Her absolute fave is mocha. That's it. You buy her Mocha roll at Goldilocks or Red Ribbon and she's set.
Anyway, this will probably be my last post about cake... at least until my birthday next month. I don't usually get a cake for my birthday but since this upcoming one marks my entry into the 3rd decade of life, I figure it's special enough to merit a cake. Yeah, I'll definitely get myself a birthday cake, with sticky marshmallow icing.
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Speaking of Cake...
... (see previous post), last weekend was Ditchie's birthday, and her boss gave her a mocha cake from Hizon's as a birthday present. It was a huge cake. Two dense layers of chocolate chiffon with custard filling in between and a thick layer of butter icing covering the whole thing. It was huge.
Anyway, Ditchie brought home only little more than half of the cake but that was more than enough for me. In fact, there's still some left over even though I've been eating 1 to 2 hefty slices of cake everyday since Friday night. Another co-worker gave Ditchie a Mango Torte from Dulcelin Gourmet, and it was also family size. It's supposed to be kept frozen but it doesn't fit in our freezer. I was going to help it along by, you know, eating some (and by "some" I mean "a whole lot") just to reduce the size so it can fit in our refrigerator's small freezer. Except, I didn't like it much. I'm not a huge fan of mango--which I know is sacrilege for a Filipino to even think, let alone articulate--but I really can't get behind it. I like green mangoes (the indian variety) with alamang and dried mangoes as well but, the truth is, my tongue doesn't generally like interacting with mangoes. It likes to keep its distance from kind of cloying fruits. So I ate maybe a couple of slices of the torte, mostly because I liked the crust and the cream, but I removed the huge slices of ripe mango and put them on Ditchie's plate. She can have the whole torte, for all I care. I just don't like mango.
But back to that Hizon's cake. It actually isn't all that phenomenal. I still prefer Estrel's caramel cake (which Ditchie doesn't like. Oh well, whatever ices your chiffon.), although, frankly, from stories I've heard from Ate My and also a friend of mine, Estrel's service leaves much to be desired. Appartently, the people in that not-so-cult-anymore bakeshop sometimes have an air of haughtiness around them, so arrogant just because people virtually line up to buy and eat their cake. Which reminds me of the French during Marie Antoinette's ignoble reign. Except, of course, they didn't actually have money to buy and eat cake and were, in fact, being thrown scraps. So I don't really know why I remembered that.
Anyway, the point is that Hizon's mocha cake, tastewise, isn't really rocking. But I've been eating blocks of it. And yesterday, I went 5 hours without eating anything after I ate cake. Which made me realize why I love cake. I love cake because it fills you up and leaves no space for anything else. You eat cake and you're set--at least until the next meal. You don't get this feeling that you should have something else, something to finish up the meal you just had, like a small piece of Max's caramel bar. Cake is appetizer, entree, and dessert, all in one. It doesn't even have to be tasty. It just has to be cake, just two layers of chiffon, preferably with custard in between, and loads of icing.
Maybe Marie Antoinette was onto something when she said, let them eat cake.
Anyway, Ditchie brought home only little more than half of the cake but that was more than enough for me. In fact, there's still some left over even though I've been eating 1 to 2 hefty slices of cake everyday since Friday night. Another co-worker gave Ditchie a Mango Torte from Dulcelin Gourmet, and it was also family size. It's supposed to be kept frozen but it doesn't fit in our freezer. I was going to help it along by, you know, eating some (and by "some" I mean "a whole lot") just to reduce the size so it can fit in our refrigerator's small freezer. Except, I didn't like it much. I'm not a huge fan of mango--which I know is sacrilege for a Filipino to even think, let alone articulate--but I really can't get behind it. I like green mangoes (the indian variety) with alamang and dried mangoes as well but, the truth is, my tongue doesn't generally like interacting with mangoes. It likes to keep its distance from kind of cloying fruits. So I ate maybe a couple of slices of the torte, mostly because I liked the crust and the cream, but I removed the huge slices of ripe mango and put them on Ditchie's plate. She can have the whole torte, for all I care. I just don't like mango.
But back to that Hizon's cake. It actually isn't all that phenomenal. I still prefer Estrel's caramel cake (which Ditchie doesn't like. Oh well, whatever ices your chiffon.), although, frankly, from stories I've heard from Ate My and also a friend of mine, Estrel's service leaves much to be desired. Appartently, the people in that not-so-cult-anymore bakeshop sometimes have an air of haughtiness around them, so arrogant just because people virtually line up to buy and eat their cake. Which reminds me of the French during Marie Antoinette's ignoble reign. Except, of course, they didn't actually have money to buy and eat cake and were, in fact, being thrown scraps. So I don't really know why I remembered that.
Anyway, the point is that Hizon's mocha cake, tastewise, isn't really rocking. But I've been eating blocks of it. And yesterday, I went 5 hours without eating anything after I ate cake. Which made me realize why I love cake. I love cake because it fills you up and leaves no space for anything else. You eat cake and you're set--at least until the next meal. You don't get this feeling that you should have something else, something to finish up the meal you just had, like a small piece of Max's caramel bar. Cake is appetizer, entree, and dessert, all in one. It doesn't even have to be tasty. It just has to be cake, just two layers of chiffon, preferably with custard in between, and loads of icing.
Maybe Marie Antoinette was onto something when she said, let them eat cake.
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