Coffee Safari

Today I went with friends on a coffee safari.  No, we didn't hop from one coffee shop to another!  We were invited to a coffee-tasting at a friend's home.  The coffees, however, came from exotic locales - where the best coffees grow.

I had no idea my friend Dante was a member of a local coffee club.  As you can guess, he doesn't have coffee at coffee shops because he enjoys making his own at home.  He has a collection of coffee gadgets, ranging from grinders, to roasters, to French presses and espresso machines!  He buys international single-origin coffee beans from a trusted source, and only roasts 250g of beans at a time.  He grinds his beans just before making his coffee, in order to take advantage of the beans' freshly-released flavor and aroma.

We had, in order:  Peruvian, Ethiopian dry-process (where the coffee berries dry in the sun naturally, as opposed to wet-process where the berries are hulled and the beans are dried separately), Jamaican Blue Mountain, Panama La Esmeralda Gesha and Ethiopian Harar coffees.  Plus an Ethiopian dry-process Americano (1:1 espresso and water).

Dante used the hand drip coffee method.  I was wondering if the ceramic dripper was available locally, and found out it was being sold at Craft Coffee Workshop along Broadway Ave. in New Manila, Quezon City.  It's also available in different sizes , along with other coffee accessories, on Amazon.com.

The coffees all had a wonderful aroma, each different from the other.  The aroma of the ground coffee was much stronger than that of the whole roasted beans.  I wish I had taken tasting notes, but I don't know the terms.  Dante arranged the progression of flavors in terms of complexity and body.  I guess it would be like how a sommelier arranges wines to complement a dinner.  We tried each coffee black, then with some muscovado sugar, then with non-dairy creamer.  All the coffees were very good, but the Jamaican Blue Mountain and Panama La Esmeralda Gesha were particularly delicious.  Sublime.  (Jude, to me:  "So, did you hear the choir of angels yet?" With my mouth full of coffee, all I could do was nod and smile.)

Yes, we had a LOT of coffee, in small cups, not the big American-size mugs.  We were served pan de sal (soft breakfast buns), with our choice of filling - butter, strawberry jam, peanut butter and Spanish-style sardines.  We also had a lot of water on the side, to cleanse our palates.  You would think that all that caffeine would render me into a quivering mess, but I checked my hands and they didn't shake.  Dante explains that when coffee has been made properly, you get the flavor of the coffee without too much of the caffeine.  To prove his point, he served me and Christine an Americano each, made of the Ethiopian dry-process beans.    My sixth coffee, but in a tiny double espresso cup.  I felt extraordinarily alert, but I felt great!  No palpitations.

Of course, this isn't something I'd do on a daily basis.  I don't think I'd ever get to experience that in a commercial coffee shop, or even in a hotel.  It was such a treat (thank you so much, Dante)!  I learned so much about coffee that I never knew before.

I like to support Philippine coffee bean producers.  My usual coffee at home is Arabica from the Cordilleras or Liberica from Batangas ("barako"), so Dante suggested I try the local coffee brand Monks' Blend.   It's produced by Benedictine monks from the Monastery of the Transfiguration in Malaybalay, Bukidnon.  We have an active Philippine Coffee Board, so maybe one day I'll work my way through the different local coffees, which I see being sold in organic weekend markets, food trade fairs and sustainable lifestyle stores like Echo Store.

A Many-Splendored Thing

It was 1957.  The acacia trees lining the avenues at the University of the Philippines campus in Diliman were not as tall and leafy as they are now.   He saw her walking to class one day.  She walked with a certain spring in her step, clutching her books.  "Magarput" is his word.  It's an Ilocano word that's hard to translate, but it connotes a certain kind of vivacious girliness.  He kept an eye out for this "magarput" little Chinese girl from the sugar lands of the South, who mostly spoke English because she didn't know much Tagalog, the lingua franca of Manila.  She graduated class salutatorian from Negros Occidental High School.  In those days being an honors graduate automatically granted young students admission to UP Diliman.

She had no idea he was interested, until much later.  He was a good-looking Northern boy from the summer capital, Baguio City, and he was in UP to study mining engineering.  With other Ilocano boys he roomed at Narra Residence Hall and spent some of his free time with his fraternity brothers, or riding around in his friend's Volkswagen Beetle serenading young ladies at the nearby dormitories.  She stayed at the YWCA dormitory across the street, where, every Sunday, they served the best fried chicken on campus.  All the Narra boys dreamed of being invited to dine at the YWCA on Sundays!

My dad learned she was secretary of the youth organization at the UP Protestant Chapel, the Church of the Risen Lord.  Naturally he joined, too. She had two other suitors, one of which became a top volcanologist, and the other, a prominent judge.  But she only had eyes for my dad.

One fateful day he was returning to Narra Residence Hall from one of their dates, and came upon two fraternities fighting violently nearby.  In the ensuing melee one boy stabbed him in the side!  My mother brought him to the hospital, where she met my paternal grandmother for the very first time.   When the boy who stabbed him found out that it was a case of mistaken identity, he was mortified.  He apologized, and they later decided not to file charges against him. Oddly, a few years later, when my parents got married, he sent them a nice set of placemats.

My dad later joined an equipment firm, while my mom taught high school Biology at UP. They continued to see each other.  On Valentine's Day in 1967 he went over to her faculty room and said, "Let's get married!"  So off they went to Quezon City Hall.  The two witnesses were my dad's best friend and the judge's secretary.  They didn't have much money, so they went to Little Quiapo nearby and had a crushed ice dessert, halo-halo, to celebrate.   It was many years later that my mother was finally able to introduce my father to her mother.  My maternal grandma was fond of saying, "You know, I never met your father until after they got married, but he turned out to be my favorite son-in-law!"

Twenty-five years later they renewed their vows in church.  They've been together 46 years now, best friends and lovers and parents.   They are in their seventies.  My dad jokes that their marriage has survived this long because he is deaf in one ear.  My mom says it's because they each maintain their individual interests and yet support each other's pursuits.

But I think it's the romance, which is still quite strong.  My friend Ana called me on the phone one night.  The phone reception was very clear and she could hear everything going on in the living room, and even heard the doorbell ring.  She heard the clattering of my mom's shoes on the marble.  "Who's that? " she said.  "It's my mom," I explained.  "My dad just arrived."  Suddenly it was quiet.  "What's happening?  Why is it quiet?"  I laughed and said, "They're kissing!"

There are pink tulips in a little pot on the table tonight.  It reminds me of the time he first gave her tulips many years ago.  They were the exotic and fashionable imported flowers to give on Valentine's Day back then.  We were all stuck in traffic on our way to their wedding anniversary dinner.  After sniffing the tulips, she said with surprise, "But they don't smell of anything!"  So he jumped out of the car and ran after a vendor selling sampaguita (jasmine) leis, and ran back.  "Here!" he said, panting, giving my mother a lei.  "Here's the scent!"

Ain't love grand.

Victoria's Leather Journal

Happy Chinese New Year!  I know most of you already have 2013 diaries and journals, but I discovered a leather journal recently that can give the Midori Traveler's Notebook a run for its money.  The thing that confused me about is that it's called a Pelle Leather Journal, by Victoria's Journals, but it's not the Pelle Leather Journal you know of in the US, that directly competes against Midori.  From this point for purposes of clarity I'll be referring to it as the VJ.

Regardless of branding, the important thing to me was that the VJ is made of real leather.  I found them in Bestsellers (a National Bookstore branch at the Podium in Ortigas Center), each in their own black box.  I got one in brown.

Each journal fits three 9 x 14cm (roughly 3.5" x 5.5") notebooks: a to-do planner, a lined notebook and a blank notebook.  There are Venzi flexi 2 notebooks (also made by Victoria's Journals, available at National Bookstore) that can be used as refills in case you can't find notebooks to fit.  As for me, I make my own refills, because that means I can choose the paper quality - must be fountain pen ink-friendly!

And this paper is friendly, as long as you don't use a B nib that's an overly wet writer.  There's not much bleedthrough or showthrough at all. Imagine that!  I haven't been buying notebooks in a long time because I don't like spending money and then finding out the paper only takes ballpoint ink.

Here it is, with my Waterman's Ideal No. 3 set.  And below, a comparison shot with my passport-sized Midori:

The feel of the Midori leather is a bit more luxurious.  It takes distressing well.  The Victoria's Journal journal is a little stiffer.  I like the leather clasp that holds the covers together, it doesn't dent the cover as much as the plain elastic does.  Also, the inside elastic fastenings don't require much fiddling with.

I posted this on the Fountain Pen Network-Philippines Facebook page, and sort of caused a shopping frenzy.  Why?  Because compared to the Midori (about USD55) this VJ journal costs only P590 (about USD15)!  My friends and I found out that there are three colors:  Black, Brown and Maroon.  If you want your own and it hasn't been sold out yet, the magic stock number is 103722 at National Bookstore.  Call them and reserve the item, before visiting.

The Midori is made in Thailand.  The VJ  box is marked "Styled in Italy.  Made in PRC."  So yes,  it's made in China, even though they very cleverly try not to point that fact out.  At least every part of it looks well made for the price.

To my friends in the US, the Victoria's Journal site only sells to the trade, I believe.  You'll have to look for the item in your stationery store (although the site indicates they sell this item in the US).   The Pelle Journal that's competing against the Midori (see links above) is a quality product and you can't go wrong with either brand.