When I was still an uhugin (snot-nosed) kid, I was made to believe that I can hasten my growth spurt by taking siesta (afternoon naps) after lunchtime. Taking siestas were a must in those days as it also meant following the disciplinary methods of my parents. My brothers and I were usually motivated by fear to take siestas. "Kapag hindi ka matulog, hindi ka makakasuot ng pantalon pag laki mo! (If you won't take a nap, you can never wear long pants when you grow up!)" my mom would quip. I've always thought long pants were cool... and a 3-piece suit like Al Pacino's getup in The Godfather. I have to wear those when I grow up, I'd say to myself.
After a hearty lunch, my papa would spread out the banig (sleeping mat) on the breeziest corner of the house which was usually near the lanai, in full view of oncoming guests and househelps (he couldn't care less if he snored shirtless). He would lie down on his side, hike up his shirt and call for me. This automatically meant that I scratch his back for a few minutes and lay beside him while we discussed about what to have for merienda (afternoon snack). He in turn would lightly massage the bridge of my nose with his index finger, make my knuckles crack gently, and then like magic, I'd fall asleep. Weird but true.
After 2-hours of siesta, I'd be awakened by the feel-good aroma of hot bread and bold coffee. I was also made to believe that afternoon munchies will also benefit my rapid growth in height if...and only if I slept siesta. I somehow convinced myself that merienda won't taste right if I did not nap in the afternoon.
There were the usual suspects atop thetable. Brown paper bags that moistened because of the steam from the bread would be on the lanai tray.
Pan de Coco is a soft bread with shredded coconut meat filling sweetened by condensed milk and sugar and sometimes infused with custard.
Ensaymada is a sweet bread topped with a layer of margarine sprinkled with sugar. My mom usually orders Special ensaymada with ham strips baked inside the dough.
Monay is a soft and sweet bread best for dunking in hot chocolate or coffee.
Pan de Monggo is the cousin of...drumroll please...you guessed it... the famous HOPIA! Enough said. I have yet to blog about Hopia...soon.
...and the most notorious of them all. The Pan de Regla! Its real name is actually Kalihim (secretary?) but my papa made me call it Pan de Regla. I believed him like a young padawan would trust his Jedi Master without asking any questions. Pan de Regla/Kalihim is a sweet bread usually moist in the middle, much like moist cookies would be. Its taste would trigger an endorphin-induced experience which would set me off exhibiting my dancing skills (or the absence of it).
Why Pan de Regla, you asked? Look closely. Red coloring right smack in the middle of bread that looks like a female sanitary napkin. My papa's wry sense of humor is as colorful as his views on food. I'm sorry if I spoiled your appetite.
Pan de Regla never survived the onslaught of merienda eaters after waking from their siesta. Even if my brothers Dennis, Jojo, and Jun would attack Polvoron (powdery milk candy), Ensaymada and Pan de Coco respectively, they would still commandeer their share of Pan de Regla. Being the youngest, I had to learn and adapt fast. My cousins Dick and Del would intercept our househelp from the panaderia and strategically ambush the bag of Pan de Regla. We pretended to help yaya from the load of carrying the various paper bags. Unbeknown to her, we already abducted the bag of Pan de Regla all to ourselves (*evil laughter*).
My brother Jun would dance joyfully his quiet jig while he ravaged his Pan de Coco. I always thought it was hilarious the way babies and children in general would dance when they ate something tasty and delicious. Now my brother and I are grown men who wear long pants and we still dance, not to music, but to delicious bread...(and choc-nut)!
Merienda was probably my favorite meal of the day. My papa was responsible for my "heightened awareness" of food and people. He had a habit of checking out 2 places whenever he visited any provincial town: the palengke (wet market) and the panaderia (bakery). He had this theory about how you can have a bird's eye view of the economy of the town by seeing how lively or depressed the palengke is. The panaderia, he believes, is a barometer of how friendly the natives are by the taste of their breads and pastries. His theories on food and people are gospel truth to me.
Keep the Pan de Regla warm up there, Pa. I'll hang out with you later.
Dude! miss those days when we're 'forced' to sleep in the afteroon's....nowadays it's become automatic, hehehe...hope goldilocks, red ribbon or well known pastry shops revive those tasty pa-de-regla's of old :)
When I was still an uhugin (snot-nosed) kid, I was made to believe that I can hasten my growth spurt by taking siesta (afternoon naps) after lunchtime. Taking siestas were a must in those days as it also meant following the disciplinary methods of my parents. My brothers and I were usually motivated by fear to take siestas. "Kapag hindi ka matulog, hindi ka makakasuot ng pantalon pag laki mo! (If you won't take a nap, you can never wear long pants when you grow up!)" my mom would quip. I've always thought long pants were cool... and a 3-piece suit like Al Pacino's getup in The Godfather. I have to wear those when I grow up, I'd say to myself.
After a hearty lunch, my papa would spread out the banig (sleeping mat) on the breeziest corner of the house which was usually near the lanai, in full view of oncoming guests and househelps (he couldn't care less if he snored shirtless). He would lie down on his side, hike up his shirt and call for me. This automatically meant that I scratch his back for a few minutes and lay beside him while we discussed about what to have for merienda (afternoon snack). He in turn would lightly massage the bridge of my nose with his index finger, make my knuckles crack gently, and then like magic, I'd fall asleep. Weird but true.
After 2-hours of siesta, I'd be awakened by the feel-good aroma of hot bread and bold coffee. I was also made to believe that afternoon munchies will also benefit my rapid growth in height if...and only if I slept siesta. I somehow convinced myself that merienda won't taste right if I did not nap in the afternoon.
There were the usual suspects atop the table. Brown paper bags that moistened because of the steam from the bread would be on the lanai tray.
Pan de Coco is a soft bread with shredded coconut meat filling sweetened by cond
ensed milk and sugar and sometimes infused with custard.
Ensaymada is a sweet bread topped with a layer of margarine sprinkled with sugar. My mom usually orders Special ensaymada with ham strips baked inside the dough.
Monay is a soft and sweet bread best for dunking in hot chocolate or coffee.
Pan de Monggo is the cousin of...drumroll please...you guessed it... the famous HOPIA! Enough said. I have yet to blog about Hopia...soon.
...and the most notorious of them all. The Pan de Regla! Its real name is actually Kalihim (secretary?) but my papa made me call it Pan de Regla. I believed him like a young padawan would trust his Jedi Master without asking any questions. Pan de Regla/Kalihim is a sweet bread usually moist in the middle, much like moist cookies would be. Its taste would trigger an endorphin-induced experience which would set me off exhibiting my dancing skills (or the absence of it).
Why Pan de Regla, you asked? Look closely. Red coloring right smack in the middle of bread that looks like a female sanitary napkin. My papa's wry sense of humor is as colorful as his views on food. I'm sorry if I spoiled your appetite.
Pan de Regla never survived the onslaught of merienda eaters after waking from their siesta. Even if my brothers Dennis, Jojo, and Jun would attack Polvoron (powdery milk candy), Ensaymada and Pan de Coco respectively, they would still commandeer their share of Pan de Regla. Being the youngest, I had to learn and adapt fast. My cousins Dick and Del would intercept our househelp from the panaderia and strategically ambush the bag of Pan de Regla. We pretended to help yaya from the load of carrying the various paper bags. Unbeknown to her, we already abducted the bag of Pan de Regla all to ourselves (*evil laughter*).
My brother Jun would dance joyfully his quiet jig while he ravaged his Pan de Coco. I always thought it was hilarious the way babies and children in general would dance when they ate something tasty and delicious. Now my brother and I are grown men who wear long pants and we still dance, not to music, but to delicious bread...(and choc-nut)!
Merienda was probably my favorite meal of the day. My papa was responsible for my "heightened awareness" of food and people. He had a habit of checking out 2 places whenever he visited any provincial town: the palengke (wet market) and the panaderia (bakery). He had this theory about how you can have a bird's eye view of the economy of the town by seeing how lively or depressed the palengke is. The panaderia, he believes, is a barometer of how friendly the natives are by the taste of their breads and pastries. His theories on food and people are gospel truth to me.
Keep the Pan de Regla warm up there, Pa. I'll hang out with you later.
1 comment:
Dude! miss those days when we're 'forced' to sleep in the afteroon's....nowadays it's become automatic, hehehe...hope goldilocks, red ribbon or well known pastry shops revive those tasty pa-de-regla's of old :)
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