Happy New Year from MrD and the Trophy H

Happy New Year from MrD and the Trophy H. This last year has been a lot of
giggles for me writing this tongue in cheek blog to dish some dirt, present some tasty food ideas, give a few travel tips and hopefully add a smile or a chuckle or two to your day.
This year, my silent reader, I am changing topics and heading into more exciting waters.
There is no great way to get this news out there but here goes for trying.
Four days before Christmas I was diagnosed with colon cancer that has spread to my
liver. How cool is that? Cancer Rocks!
I had been in hospital for a week and a half getting fast tracked through a lot of tests. Some of those tests involving chemically emptied colons and live cameras on site in places that should never be visited by operating rooms full of people one does not know. A wee bit nasty and uncomfortable.
I haven't been a patient in hospital since I was in my mid twenties, having my nose done. It took more time getting used to strangers walking in at all hours with
concerned professional smiles wanting to stick long sharp needles in my arms or take my temperature and blood pressure for the hundredth time.
December 20, I got the official reports after a conference with the medical
Team. I was given a discharge and sent home with MrD to celebrate the holidays.
MrD has been a pillar of strength and support through all this but when he heard the “Big C” word he collapsed. In the Philippines, where he grew up, there were and still are relatively fewer survivors. In MrD’s head he was already picking out a good blue suit and a box.
Because it was the holiday season there was no way they could get me into the Cancer
Center until January. I have since been notified that my first appointment is January13. In the mean time my goal is to get my strength back after that barrage of invasive testing. I lost a lot of weight I need to put back on my bones. I will need some reserves to combat the chemo treatments.
A recent report comparing six first world countries found that Canada rated tops in cancer survivors and British Columbia ranked the highest in the land. I have every right to feel optimistic.
You might recall, my silent reader, I always maintain a positive outlook on life and a sense of humour to get me through tough times. I am in great spirits and ready for a fabulous new year. None of us know the future. Often what we perceive to be horrible devastating news turns out down the road to be one of the best things that ever happened to us.
The only sad part is right now I will not be able to spend time back at our home in Asia, getting massages on the beach while I suck back fresh local mango and banana shakes.
That will be something to look forward to down the long and winding road.

Do's and Don'ts of partner squabbling.

People love it when Trophy H’s have a bad day. Everyone thinks oh boy this guy is funny enough to laugh himself over to tomorrow. Little people like to see the myths and giants, if not fall flat, then at least bent out of shape by the wind.
Trophy H’s have really bad days.
We have real fights with our partner that is not stage material.
Here is how I have dealt with some of mine.
Trophy H’s make lousy fighters. We want to make jokes so the angry person being silently mean to you from another room or on the phone from another time zone in another country will return from ugly land. Is your squabble happening with text or real talk, or is your partner right there standing in front of Glee or your favourite hockey game, which ever daddy programming turns your crank.
One thing you attempt to never do when you are having a bad fight with your partner is to laugh. They sometimes take laughter too personal during fights.
There is no good time to laugh. Not while they are staring you in the eye shaking the scissors and a handful of your more favourable credit cards.
Jokes are wasted and unwise during any bitterness or tension in the room.
Jokes tend to either go right over their head when they are cussing out your sorry ass. They for sure will only make you laugh, but not them.
“Hey you are not really angry with me darlink. You are just taking this opportunity to express your inner ugly.” Seriously don’t try this at home, my silent reader.
No way. Real men know how to win and get back to the TV. They understand the bigger picture. We know to keep our eyes not on the TV, at least during the commercials, but at those angry eyes. We nod our head up and down like those made in China neck wobbling car dogs you buy from Canadian Tire. Ok here the trophy H must make a confession. I have never owned a head nodding dog or a dashboard on which to put one.
No helpful interventions or comments. This would not be a good time to mention, and for their own good really, “Now pumpkin. Screwing up your eyes like that does not improve your advancing wrinkle war. The smile and frown all happens down below the ice line.”

Trophy H tips #459863. Become a skilled head nodder. Casually vary the speed of the nod to make it appear sincere.
Trophy H tips # 45697. Listen to what they are telling you without just pretending to listen while you make up your rebuttal in your cutting fashion.
The beauty of being the Trophy H of MrD is we really don’t have fights like this anymore. We worked threw a lot of shit in the first 5 years of this 15 year tour we are on together. And he has never been foolish enough to pull the money card during an argument. He is impeccably trained. Now when he has been bad or nasty or harsh or just plain honest and he sees I have been hurt by his action or words. He has an old saying that brings us back to reality. “15 years and my husband is not used to me yet.”
Trophy H tip #5768 Never go to bed to sleep when you are angry and never let them sleep while you are angry.

The holiday in Hell.

Thanksgiving has always been one of the few family holidays that I enjoy. There seems to be less hysterical drama and just fun times eating lovely traditional foods with family and friends.
Last year about this time my uncle and aunt, MrG and MsC suggested that they fly out from their nest in Northern Ontario, we pick up his sister in North Vancouver, and the 5 of us spend the holiday weekend in the beautiful surroundings of Terrace Beach Resort in the wilds of Ucluelet on the far side of Vancouver Island. Because I am the Trophy H and I did have a year to prepare I happily agreed and started making reservations. The resort was built by Jason Priestly of Hollywood 90210 fame and I managed to reserve the biggest cabin assuming that that would be the one Jason stayed in when he was home. It had three floors of lovely wooden luxury with large outdoor decks, Jacuzzis, fireplaces and a well designed and equipped kitchen for me to wow our guests with my special brunches, lunches and dinners.
My uncle and aunt used their carefully gathered air mile points to book their return tickets. His sister got the weekend off and MrD agreed to come with us because the resort promised Internet connection so he could run the empire while we all sat and chatted or went for long walks in the stunning natural surroundings.
That was what should have happened. This is what did happen.
Things went smoothly in the beginning. My uncle’s sister uses a cane and has some difficulty getting in and out of vehicles but with me carrying the extra luggage we managed to get on board at the early hour and made our ferry connection to the island.
From Departure Bay at Nanaimo to the resort in Ucluelet it rained the whole way so we did not get a chance to enjoy the scenery. We did stop at the giant Douglas fir forest called the Cathedral Trees for a stretch and a drippy camera opportunity. The trip took about 4 hours but we made it seem fun.
At the check in we found out that the cabin I had reserved there was no Internet connection because of the building materials used in the walls. MrD was not amused and made it known that I was responsible. Okay. I had to rent an extra cabin that did have Internet connection and I just whipped out the credit card with a non existent smile.
I got the keys and managed to get my guests safely to their rooms. It was raining the whole time. The resort is built into a rain forest with walkways and stairs. The lady with the cane made it all the way. The biggest cabin was the farthest from the entrance with the most privacy.
I put away all the food supplies I had brought from Granville Island Market, ran back to MrD’s new cabin to check up that he managed to connect and I dropped off my own bag.
I returned to accompany my uncle to the next town in the rental van so we could pick up some milk they wanted for their breakfast tea.
On the way to the van from the cabin we were passed on the walkway by a family with small children. My uncle and I stepped aside to let them pass and he slipped and fell. My uncle could not move or get up. I alerted my aunt about the accident. Someone got the message to the staff in the office. They called 911 and about 45 minutes later the ambulance arrived. All this time the rain never let up. We had blankets keeping my uncle warm and a sheet of plastic covering him to try and keep him as comfortable as possible.
The ambulance attendants assessed the situation. They put a pillow splint on his broken leg. We managed to get him lifted into a stretcher chair and all strapped in. Then we had to get him off the walkway, through the bush along a gravel trail and into the ambulance for the 40 kilometre ride to the nearest hospital in Tofino. All this happened in the rain.
My uncle was the only person insured to drive the rental van so my aunt needed to contact the rental company before we could follow the ambulance to the hospital. Many phone calls later and after heated chats with operators working in Delhi, India, we just gave up, said just make a note and off we drove uninsured to the hospital emergency rooms.
There was of course a lengthy waiting time before some one came out and explained the situation to us. My uncle’s leg was indeed broken in two places, below the knee and above the ankle. He would need an operation that could not be done at the small hospital in Tofino so in the morning the ambulance would have to transport him to the bigger hospital in Nanaimo, the city where we had arrived by ferry that was 4 hours away.
Okay.
This meant that we would have to pack up all our things at the resort, forfeit the prepaid two nights for the two rooms, drive the 4 hours to Nanaimo, rent two more rooms.
Okay.
The staff and owner of the resort were in top form and concern for us all along this ordeal and when I checked us out the next morning the owner assured me that all charges for our rooms for both nights would be cancelled and I was to keep him informed about my uncle’s progress.
We found the hospital in Nanaimo, I got us nice rooms at a hotel near the harbour and we managed to find some turkey dinner specials at a mediocre restaurant chain.
The next morning when we returned to the hospital we found out that if they did operate on my uncle there then he would have to remain in Nanaimo for about two weeks for the follow up. This was not an option so they put a temporary cast on his injured leg. My uncle needed three different medicines and a new pair of crutches. This being the holiday weekend some pharmacies were closed and after a wild goose chase in a city I was not familiar with we managed to visit 3 pharmacies and get all we needed.
MrD and the lady with the cane wanted to return to the city so we got them out of the way and on their way before my aunt and I started the ordeal of getting my injured uncle out of the hospital, into the van, get the van onto the crowded holiday ferry and back to Vancouver. We had to line up at the ferry docks because our reservation we had made was not valid for the time we got my uncle to the docks. We had to wait for 4 ½ hours to get onto a boat. My uncle could not leave the van. I won’t go into details about how he remained comfortable but those urinals the drugstore sells really come in handy.
Finally late at night we returned from our holiday to our condo in Vancouver and we managed to get my exhausted aunt and uncle upstairs and into bed so they could get some rest before the ordeal of flying home the next morning.
In the morning MrD and I got my uncle back in the van with my aunt and their entire luggage. We went with them to the airport. My uncle had to purchase a new ticket on business class because he could not fit in his economy seat with the giant leg cast.
Finally we said good bye to our despondent relatives at security and the airline handlers wheeled my uncle away with my aunt following along waving good bye.
I breathed a giant sigh of relief I did not know I needed. The stress had just built up inside and I spent the rest of the day in a daze.
Yes it was the holiday in Hell but in spite of everything we managed to keep our cool and bond in ways we surely had not planned.
Still it might have been fun to have just had a boring weekend with a book and some pate the way we had planned but the Trophy H, my silent reader, thankfully even at Thanksgiving, knows how to adapt.

Fern Alley Market Farm Trophy H Pesto

Last week I bought my regular supply of spicy greens from John the salad guy at the local farmers market on Granville Island. This past week MrD and I not only munched our way through a half bag of the crisp green mouth happiness but I used the leaves instead of basil to make pesto. The spiciness of the peppery mustard greens, arugula and several other designer yum notes proved a perfect base for a walnut, rather than pine nut, pesto. I used the traditional notes of garlic, olive oil and Parmesan cheese for the taste and texture but to give it that Trophy H kick I added fresh ginger.
Next market day I brought John some of the pesto for him and his mom who was back working on the farm. This gentle quiet farmer or his delightful mom drives 80 K from their farm, Fern Alley Market Farms, in Upper Squamish Valley to bring Vancouverites amazing exotic greens in the top of their prime. It was a thrill to give back with some home made pesto.
Here’s how to make your own.
2 cups spicy salad greens
1 clove of peeled garlic
½ cup toasted unsalted walnuts
1 slice of peeled fresh ginger
½ cup grated Parmesan cheese
½ cup olive oil
Salt and Pepper
Add all the ingredients into a blender and work into a smooth paste
Cover in a bit more olive oil to keep the paste from losing its colour and store in the fridge in a container with a tight lid if you are not going to use it right away.
Trophy H tip # 473. Don’t just use pesto for pasta. It works perfectly as a spread on sandwiches, a base for salad dressing or soup with some zing.

Crab apple and roasted corn salsa.

The tartness of seasonal crab apples goes very well with the sweetness of roasted corn. Don’t peel the apples so the salsa has more colours. Roughly cut the cored apples into the same size as the roasted corn kernels. Add some crisp red onion, a handful of chopped carrots and lots of fresh coriander to make this simple but sensational salsa. Dress the salsa with salt and pepper, olive oil and some spicy vinegar, then give the whole thing a quick stir and it’s good to go. Keep this in the fridge and you can use it for a week. I used some to add to my duck sausage pasta sauce and MrD is still licking his chops and nodding thanks.

No Fuss Fussily.

Fall finds MrD and me back home in Vancouver enjoying my kitchen after three weeks away eating out of hotel kitchens. I have missed the local ingredients from my beloved Granville Island market. This Trophy H pasta is not only easy to whip up in a pinch but it would be good enough to feed to your Italian granny if you had one.
Fry some sliced chorizo sausage and red onions with a handfull of green peas until the sausage is browned and cooked through all the way. Throw in a handful of chopped fresh asparagus for some colour and added crunch. Stir everything for another minute just to cook the asparagus but not kill it. Take the pan off the heat and stir in a serving of chopped smoked salmon. Add all this to some fussily or penne and coat with a generous serving of basil and cream sauce and some salt and pepper to taste. Garnish with soft goat cheese crumbles and a few sprigs of fresh oregano. Your guests will lick their bowl and then wash it. Who could ask for anything more?

Trophy H Peach Salsa

Make this easy winner a day ahead of time. The flavours improve by hanging out and this seasonal side will be one thing out the way before your guests arrive.
Here’s how.
Chop two pealed peaches into small cubes. Save the peach pits aside for some crafting project. In a bowl add the fruit with 1 teaspoon each of chopped ginger and garlic. Finely dice one Thai bird’s eye chili without the seeds, a few sprigs of chopped mint and thin slices of mild red onion to add some bite and texture. Squeeze the juice of ½ a lime and add that with the lime zest over the salsa. Splash everything with a good slosh of decent olive oil and a pinch of crunchy red Hawaiian salt or a few shakes of plain white salt. Stir in everything gently so as not to bruise the peaches and store in the fridge until you are ready to serve.
I prefer to eat this salsa at room temperature but MrD, my silent reader, claims my spicy Trophy H peaches work just as well served up either hot or cold.

Philippines Paradise Papaya Pickles. Achara.

Here, my silent reader is your peaceful path to papaya pickle paradise.
This morning I made green papaya and carrot pickles, my Trophy H version of a Filipino favourite called achara and traditionally served as a side with many of their fried savoury dishes. The sourness of palm vinegar with the dark sweetness of palm sugar sets off a surprising mouthful of crunches with the carrots and green papaya. If you can’t find green papaya just use carrots or maybe try hicama.
To make your own quart jar of pickles grate or finely chop half a seeded green mango with about the same amount of carrots. Traditionally Filipinos would only use 5% carrot as a bit of colour in the mix but today I want a new batch with more carrots. OK I am clearing out the vegetable drawer before we fly out tomorrow and I wanted to use up all the carrots. Together in a sauce pan heat 2 cups of palm vinegar with 1 cup of palm sugar and a teaspoon of pickling spices until the sugar completely dissolves. Plain white vinegar and plain white sugar works just as well, my silent reader. Sterilize a clean mason jar in boiling water and filled the empty bottle to the top with the carrots and mango mixed with a handful of raisins. Top off the jar with the hot vinegar and seal with a tight lid. Stand the bottle upside down to cool and then store in the refrigerator. These are worth waiting for. Leave for at least a week but a month is better. I have to hide my achara behind things in the fridge or MrD will whine for me to open them now. MrD has family visiting from Manila in October and I look forward to sharing some of these flavours from home.
Pickles are easy to make. Don’t tell your guests. They will think you are some super hero.
Make your self a batch of these show stopping papaya paradise pickles and open them up to serve alongside your award winning Thanksgiving turkey. The guests will be the ones giving thanks and it will all be to you and of course your pal the Trophy H.

Trophy H Dish of the Day, August 31, 2010.

The Trophy H Lisa Peach Layer.

MrM and MsL, MrD’s and my own long time acquaintances from Texas came to visit on Sunday. This seasonal peach and salmon appetizer was an easy no fuss no muss and tasty way to start the dining. I have named this simple show stopper after the Lovely MsL. My menu featured two contrasting terrines. The Marvellous MrM’s version got layered roasted peaches with ham and pecorino cheese.

Here’s how.
Inside a metal ring form settle some sliced uncooked peaches with thin slices of the best wild smoked salmon you can source and some fresh goat cheese.

Trophy H kitchen tip #???. Make your own ring form rather than buying one of those 30 dollar rings with a fancy label on it from a kitchen store.

I built this terrine up inside a ring form I made from cutting both ends out of an empty tin can. Tuna fish cans are great. If you make your own tin can version, my silent reader, make sure you bend back the sharp lid edges inside the can so you don’t get injured. Save one of the ends of the can to help release the contents when you are ready to plate.

Start with a layer of the fresh peaches. I skinned the peaches for this version but normally I would leave the skins on for a bit of colour and texture. Add salmon. I used sliced salmon because that is what I had but you, my silent reader, could use salmon ends which I imagine would be cheaper but just as suitable for this dish. After the first layer of salmon add some crumpled goat cheese. I used a plain local cheese, a bit on the soft side, but with no herbs or cute hippy extras. Next I added another layer of salmon and a last few slices of the peaches.
The beauty of this appetizer is it can be made a few hours in advance, so when your own MrD or your guests arrive and its time to plate, you just grab it out of the refrigerator. Remove the terrine by using the tin can lid or a spatula to press out the food onto a cutting board. Slice into wedges like a pie and plate on a bit of micro greens. Throw on a tiny heirloom tomato or three. Splash a tear or two of your really good olive oil over the whole dish. Our guests brought us the best olive oil in Texas but more on that next time.
Then all you need to do is eat enjoy and sit back while the crowd roars your name.

Romer's Burger Bar

Last month’s burger at the Gathering Place Community Center where I was doing community service in the kitchen was a tasty deal for $2.75 and worth every subsidised penny. This month found me at Romer’s Burger Bar in Kitsalano on West 4th Ave. in Vancouver. I’d read a promising revue in some travel magazine and you, silent reader, knows the Trophy H is always open for suggestions as to where to find good meat. I ordered the customer’s choice called the “Man’s Man Burger”. Sounds like one for the Trophy H I thought. Simple ingredients like apple wood smoked bacon, local cheddar and onion strings sound promising but they all arrive on a brioche bun a bit too large for the size of the patty. The server did not ask me how I like my burger cooked and it was a little too cooked for my liking. There was no pink there to savour. The deep fried onion slivers were not greasy nor were they warm. The tomato slice was thin enough to go unnoticed on my chew meter and the cheddar was fairly nondescript. I guess the bacon was fine but I don’t remember much of it. I think there was a slice of pickle lost somewhere in the shuffle. There was some garlic mayo on the well toasted bun but either there was no kick to it or just not enough to notice. I was left wondering why it was there in the first place on this $11.00 quite regular burger. The $3.00 side of double cooked fries with sea salt were double cooked well enough but over salted with sea salt that was ground so fine it might have just been the regular salt out of the shaker.
Sadly, my silent reader, for this Trophy H, when my next month’s burger craving comes around I won’t be heading to Romer’s. Romer’s three star burger with a side of salty fries clocked in at $15.68 not including tip. Take your Dad but not your date.

Back in Manila

So sorry it has been ages since I have updated this blog. MrD and I recently returned to Manila for another stay at our tropical palace. It has been a long couple of months since we have been back so it is good to be home and chewing on some decent mangoes again. I packed a whole suitcase of food stuffs in Vancouver because I planned to cook a dinner for our staff here at home. Our office here in Manila is located on the ground floor of the condo unit where we live. My birthday was coming up, more on that sacred event in a moment. Every year around this time if we are in town, we usually take our staff to the Manila Shangri-La Hotel to enjoy their world class five star buffet but this year MrD requested that I cook at home and invite the staff upstairs. We had several new staff that had never been to visit and it was time to bring them all home. So I filled my check in bag with a 5 kilo ham and veggies you can’t find in the tropics like parsnips, turnips and sweet potatoes. I gathered a dozen or so of my favourite local artisan cheeses, three different varieties of pesto and other treats I knew were not available here on this island paradise. I knew from past experience that check in bags travel down in the hold where it is quite cold enough to keep everything fresh enough until we got here and there is no customs control like most countries here in the Philippines. You could bring in panda steaks and humming bird pate if you had the notion. I did not need the space in my luggage for regular things like clothing and toiletries because I already have all that here at home in Manila.
Dinner was a success but our staff is very easy to please when it comes to eating. They just require lots and lots of food and then just stand back and let them go at it until it all disappears.
The day after the dinner party MrD and I flew off to our island getaway of Boracay. You my silent reader may remember my last trip there when I met the dreaded black banded sea krait and lived to write about it. This time a typhoon just to the north was ongoing. The island storms were very dramatic with the palm trees doing their Gilligan’s Island impersonations. The famous white sand beach totally disappeared under the waves. The water was right up to the tree line. The whole side of the island exposed to the winds had been barricaded with plastic and bamboo screens to keep all those tacky coconut souvenirs from blowing off to our Chinese neighbours to the north.
I love the island when it’s stormy like this but some of the hordes of tourists, mostly from Korea, did not seem quite as excited. It rained a lot but a warm tropical rain and there was no lightning so I went swimming in the torrential downpours. I noticed one tourist standing waist deep in our hotel pool in the rain holding an umbrella over her head. Nice image but a bit confusing.
Alas we only had 3 nights of peace away before we needed to return to Manila. But it was good to be back and say hello to my Filipino home away from home.
Back in the city I needed to go to the National Bureau of Investigation, the Filipino version of the FBI to obtain police clearance documentation so I can apply for a new class of visa. Every year since we moved here I have had to get a working visa which I can because together with MrD we own companies here and hire enough locals to fit the requirements but it is a long involved process requiring lawyers and endless documents. Now because I am …of a certain age…I can apply for a retirement visa which in the beginning is just as tiresome to apply for but will eventually allow me more freedom to enter and exit the country.
I won’t go into the traumatic events of the long endless lineups only to be told we had to go to another office with even longer lineups on the fifth floor of the worst fire trap mall in all of Asia. Long story short. I got my clearance after three excursions into bureaucratic hell and all I need now is to deposit a king’s ransom of American cash into a Filipino bank and they will eventually, after a million more documents, allow me a retirement visa.
On a lighter note, your Trophy H has turned another year older and wiser. We invited MrD’s family for lunch. I refused to cook. I have cooked for that crowd very often but I insisted that this year I wanted the day off. We went to the weekend market early on the Saturday morning and bought Filipino prepared foods like chicken empatido, pork barbecue, seafood rice, roasted corn and other local favourites. I had ordered the giant flour less chocolate cake from the Manila Shangri-La that I have raved about in previous blogs. This beauty weighed in at about 5 kilos. Just think giant chocolate ganache truffle and you get the idea. I served up all the guests each a tiny slice and kept lots for me to enjoy later.
The in-laws loved the food, ate as much as they could and brought the rest of it home. I kept my eye on the leftover cake though so they couldn’t make off with that beauty. MrD left the next morning and is back home in Vancouver where I will fly off to join him again this coming Saturday. In the mean time I am getting much needed massage therapy, eating as many mangoes as I can stuff into me and working my way through all the rest of that delicious cake.

Frozen Fruit Yogurt Desert

Summer time and the living is easy. My Canadian friends are complaining about the heat. I just feel like MrD and I are back home in Manila. Of course it is more humid there but the heat is similar.
The best thing about the heat is cooling off with some home made frozen deserts and here are a couple of ideas for super fast and always easy frozen fruit and yogurt recipes. I keep several kinds of fruit in the freezer compartment of my refrigerator so I have some handy ingredients when I need a fast desert or a cool down snack.
Just add a couple of scoops of frozen fruit in a food processor or blender and add enough low fat yogurt and a little fruit juice so the mixture blends evenly. I often use frozen bananas which are very sweet so you don’t need extra sweetener but sometimes a splash or two of maple syrup is added to bring out the sweetness of the berries and add a dimension of flavour. This kind of frozen desert works best made on demand and eaten right away but in a time crunch you can do it before your guests arrive and leave it sit in the freezer until you need to serve it.
The two examples in the photos are frozen blueberries with cherry yogurt and the other is frozen mango, banana and fresh cranberries blended with lemon yogurt. Remember these fruits are frozen, not fresh so the desert comes out frozen.
Next time I want to try frozen banana and peanut butter with a spoon of nutella and plain yogurt.

Granville Island Public Market

I had thought I would be updating this week from Moncton, New Brunswick but MrD and I have postponed our eastern excursion until September. So, it’s Vancouver this week. I think it’s time for a tourist report from my favourite local market.
Having a bountiful market is a true gift I value, having lived and traveled in so many lands where food is not only scarce but definitely not of the best quality. We Canadians are blessed and fortunate. No one actually needs twenty eight varieties of organic wild game salami and twelve varieties of potatoes, but I ain’t complaining.
Granville Island Market, Vancouver’s perfect place for fresh local ingredients, is a source of many of my Trophy H dinners. Here is where I go to find wild mushrooms, game meats and spectacular sea food. Once a week I take a water taxi across to the island and do my shopping to stock up the pantry. I usually also buy an armload of flowers and a gooey cinnamon bun for MrD who stays home to run the empire while I do the marketing.
My Trophy H tips for visiting Granville Island Public Market is to go in the morning so you can be there when it opens at 9 am. I go on Thursdays. All the produce coming in for the weekend has arrived so you are getting first choice of the finest wares. The market just gets too crowded for actual shopping later when the tourists flock in to ogle our super salmon, salivate at our fat sausages and try to sneak photos of me in one of my stunning, get out of my road, outfits. Avoid the weekends and the inevitable crowds. If its not the food you are shopping for, but all that other artsy stuff, then you need to know that most galleries open at 11am.
Granville Island Public Market is a must for both the serious cook and tourists with their digital cameras and all that holiday vacationer cash to spend. It is the place for me to meet other chefs from around town. We compare notes on what is fresh and in season. We share tips and ideas. The dealers often grill us on what we plan to make with their ingredients. Sometimes we bring them tastes and recipes with our thanks.
The market has ample place to sit and relax with a cup of java and a new found pastry friend. You can eat well in the noisy packed food court or brown bag it with your finds and go outside, sit down and enjoy one of the best views of Vancouver. Mind not to feed those pesky birds.
Have a great week, my silent reader, of shopping, cooking and sharing food with friends.

Last week’s guests have gone home and MrD and I are adjusting to scaffolding set up in our great room. About 3 months ago the workers renovating our upstairs neighbour’s condo damaged a major water pipe that created a trail of disaster for 18 floors. I was back home in Manila when all that happened but fortunately MrD was here to handle the immediate mess. Because the flooding affected so many units a disaster team was called in to do the whole job for all the units. The results are such that three months later workmen are finally here on site fixing up the dry wall. The ceiling in that room is 21 feet high so they had to install scaffolding. I am told the industrial monkey bars will in all likelihood be set up for about two weeks while they dry wall and then paint and texture. This weekend I took advantage of the equipment and had a ceiling fan installed to circulate some of this rare hot air summer has brought us.
In spite of the chaos I keep putting meals on the table for MrD. Here are this week’s three easy to prepare dishes that even you, my silent reader can make on your own.
The heat of summer always seems to keep my hunger level down. The higher the temperature the less time I want to spend chewing food. Salads, sandwiches and nibbles are perfect summer choices.
At this time of year so many of the local tomatoes are being featured at the markets. I found some perfect tiny yellow miniatures that are packed full of flavour. I sliced these babies up, added some fresh herbs, salt and pepper, tossed them with capers in a light vinaigrette and served them as both a salad and a topping for a puffed pastry tart. Puff pastry is not a difficult thing to work with. You buy it frozen in your grocery store and let it thaw out a couple of hours before you roll it out. Don’t have a rolling pin? Use a wine bottle.
In this heat I like to serve chicken drummettes as nibble finger foods. This version I divided the wings into 4 groups and mixed different rubs for each pile. Then, I just baked them all in the same oven at 350 F or 175 C for 45 to 50 minutes. The baby drums are perfect hot or cold. You can use your favourite marinades for the chicken. I used pesto for one of the marinades, spicy hot curry for another, maple syrup and ancho chili powder with lots of black pepper for the third variety and some sun dried tomato paste with balsamic vinegar and mustard for the fourth flavour. Go wild with the combinations but don’t use too many ingredients or the taste gets lost.
I hope this summer weather holds for a bit. Canadians are an entirely different race of people in the warmer season than they are in those colder darker wet months.

Happy Canada Day Eh?

Every patriot loves his home land. I lived abroad for 20 years and every July 1st a bell would go off in my mental files. Bling. Canada. This year MrD and I are celebrating the big day in Vancouver with guests. My much older and wiser brother, MrR and his charming wife, MsA, are visiting for 5 days from their frontier homeland estate back east in the northern wilds of Ontario.
Local artisan cheeses and breads served us as our breakfast celebration. Then we were off to the docks on Hornby Street to catch a ferry to Grandville Island for a quick shop before the crush of tourists arrives. It is perfect July 1 weather, too cold for a mass of tourists. It doesn’t take me long to get what I need from the market. I have a mental list of what I want and where to get it and the crowds tend to part and give me room. Today I was shopping for the last of the fresh wild morels in season. I imagine you are tired, my silent reader, of my morels as much as you might be tired of my morals. MrD will not be sorry when I stop feeding him these tasty fungus treats. But MrR and MsA love morels as much as I do, so they are getting them at every meal.
Tonight I am serving wild cold smoked salmon rolled up with goat cheese and morel puree for the appetizer. MrD is a teeny bit tired of salmon, goat cheese or morels so he is getting wild boar pancetta with some pecorino cheese. MrR and MsA don’t eat pork so things all work out balance wise. To go with my Trophy H Canadian theme menu for tonight’s meal the main course will be braised Alberta beef short ribs in a maple syrup adobo sauce. The sides to serve nestled beside my ribs will be snow peas, smashed fireworks red potatoes and of course morels. Desert will be some of my Trophy H hand baked fig and maple baklava. Then we all head down to the sea shore to watch the fireworks.
We all have an early flight to the Yukon in the morning to continue the festivities. I will update next time with news of our northern journey but in the mean time here are today’s recipes.
Smoked Salmon Rolls.
Layer 8 - 10 smoked salmon slices on plastic wrap.
Spread an even mixture of goat cheese and morel mushroom pate over the salmon layer leaving a half inch of salmon on the long side. Roll up the salmon into a tight roll and refrigerate for at least 4 hours before slicing.
Beef Short Ribs.
Coat generous sized cuts of beef short ribs with a morel BBQ sauce and put them in a slow cooker. Cover with a splash each of Soy sauce, Worcestershire, apple cider vinegar and about ¼ cup of maple syrup. Cook on low for 4 hours.
Cut small stars on opposite sides of some small new red potatoes and boil until fork tender. Cool and then gently smash into flattened ovals with the stars on each of the flat sides. Fry these in hot olive oil or duck fat until brown and crispy.
Saute some sliced morel mushrooms in a little butter with salt and pepper.
Steam snow peas in their shell. Serve the potatoes, mushrooms and peas as the sides for the ribs.
I made my Trophy H secret recipe fig and maple baklava for desert because I am the Trophy H. You, my silent reader, don’t have to go to all that much work.

It's burger time.

OK I have good news and bad news about this month’s burger. You, my silent reader, will remember my blog about a month ago when I reviewed my once a month burger fix. I gave Vancouver’s “The Two Parrots” four out of five stars for a tasty slab of the red stuff.
Well, as you know, I only allow myself one burger a month, so here is the good news. I have discovered the best burger in Vancouver. The bad news is I am not going to tell you where you can find it. If I do that the restaurant might become just too popular if my fans find out I eat there. It’s only a small ‘brassiere’ on Davie Street. I want to be sure to always get a table. I don’t like to wait on tables. That’s what a waiter does. Did that. Done that. My therapist helps me forget all about it.
About a week ago I stopped to read their menu posted outside their kitchen window. (I actually stopped to watch them cook but pretended to read the menu.) I saw ‘Burger’ and my once a month burger alarm went off. I read about white cheddar, bacon and truffle aioli and my heart rate went up with anticipation.
So I convinced MrD I should take him there so he could buy me lunch. We went at an early hour to get seated before the rush and were greeted by a very helpful and equally charming Megan. She welcomed us and updated us on the specials of the day. The lobster bisque with spot prawns set off my taste bud alerts and at only 6 loonies but I was a trophy husband on a mission and that was to eat my monthly burger. I begged Megan to bring me one forthwith and put me out of my craving misery.
MrD went for the moules et frites because he can speak French.
Megan soon enough returned with generous pots of frites for MrD and fries for moi. I know I said I can’t find a decent French fry in Vancouver but I promise I will no longer say that. The fries at this place, that I am not going to mention, are nearly as good as my own. Close enough to have made me want to eat them all.
Now it’s on to the real deal. The burger was actually better than my own because I did not have to do the work that went into this perfect big bite of burger bliss. The soft bun was toasted. The generous meat patty was grilled perfectly to my taste. On top of that was some truffle aioli hidden under bacon so tender, but crisp at the same time. Working my way up this mountain of meat joy were some of the best deep fried onions that ever slipped by my taste buds. Just under the top of the bun I found a tasteful garnish of some fresh salad greens.
Served on the side were tiny ramekins of house made mayonnaise and ketchup. When was the last time you ordered a burger and it came with ketchup the chef made? I hate ketchup. I never eat it. You know that, my silent reader, from a previous blog. No longer true. This tomato treat had just a hint of anise and was not too sweet like our pal the red muck in a bottle. Perfect ketchup with those fries but the burger was good to go as it was. And I ate the whole thing. I won’t bother you with all the details of how juicy and fabulous this five star burger tasted but I don’t imagine I will look elsewhere again next month if I am in Vancouver for my next burger fix. I will just return to Megan and this nameless small brassiere on Davie Street in Vancouver.

Father's Day Suggestions.

Who is your MrD? Who’s your daddy? Big D Day is only a week away. That means only 168 more shopping hours before you get to give your own special Daddy that extra fabulous something. Let’s all make more of an effort this year to show that someone we care about that they are practically as important as you are yourself.
Here are a few of my Trophy H tips to help you, my silent reader, to make your special someone so happy he might even put you back in his will.
Go big, go bling is my word on the fashion news stand this summer. Outfit your man from head to toe in comfort without sacrificing gorgeous style. I suggest a French burka with mosquito netting in a tasteful black and bling contrast. For that out doors man of the house, my button camouflage hunting jacket. Sulphur is the new black. Buy Daddy anything in this hot summer colour and stand back because Daddy’s going to be on fire. Giving Daddy socks for Father’s Day is usually a sign that you have no imagination, or money, or both. But with just a lot of money and my imagination you too can have the ultimate gift this season. Try my simple new Trophy H sock redesign idea at home. It even works on those grey work socks from Canadian Tire like you gave him last year for F Day and for Christmas and his birthday. You, my silent reader, have only one choice for socks this holiday. “Neil’s Treholefree H” socks. Go for it. Show the big boss just how much you care.
If it is going to be just socks again this year for Pappy, please jazz up the offer a little, with a surprise hidden in the toe. It depends on your budget, but you can hide a treat like a chocolate, or an orange, or the keys to a new Porsche to perk up any man’s day.
How about purchasing the big guy season tickets to the opera or hockey if he’s one of those? This year, how about giving your own special Daddy a new thong or even one of your old ones if you don’t have the big bucks? Of course, then you might have to throw in a gift certificate at a waxing salon for a Brazilian and/or anal bleach, but, “Hey its Daddy”. A new thong for the summer BBQ season might not suit every father, but the daddies it would suit, would be worth the shop.
If you are going for salon gift certificates then a coupon for a facial is something I am sure any Dad can use. I mean which would your Pop rather have, a scalp treatment and pedicure or one more boring gift certificate from Home Hardware?
Or go out of your way to make reservations at an expensive dining establishment like Tim Horton’s or even the Old Spaghetti Factory instead of the lunch counter at Costco. It’s really up to you how you chose to celebrate and pamper the man who gave you everything.
I trust these simple Trophy H hints will help make your shopping easier this week. My final word on Father’s Day gifts is this, my silent reader. Don’t go out and buy Daddy a cute pet like a puppy. Save that for Thanksgiving.
For about 10 years now I have invited my Father out for lunch on Father’s Day to talk about the old days to share memories of growing up together; the good, bad and the ugly like all “boys and their dads” relationships. The jealous tug to win “Mother’s” attention might have gotten in our way. Who had the bigger womb experience on that ride? 15 minutes for him according to Maw. Nine months and 4 days of labour for Sonny boy.
Dad always prayed I’d someday stop pirouetting and join the hockey team. That never happened. I never learned how to fix the tractor. I wouldn’t know where to look to even find the oil let alone change it. I could never operate the chain saw although I grew adapt at arranging the course saw dust into Zen gardens. We agreed to disagree on almost everything. We were far too much alike. A portrait of my father sits in my office in Asia along with candid shots of some of my other relatives. Everyone who sees the hand tinted exposure thinks it’s me. It’s hot. Boys and their Dad’s. We are just special. In the past 10 years on Father’s Day the only thing missing has been my Father. Dad died all those years ago. 10 or so years of Father’s Day socks he has missed. Ten or so years of early morning phone calls asking about the weather or who has died and how the crops are doing. It’s a bit easier each new Father’s Day. It’s just not been any simpler.

Today's Trophy H Pasta.

I feel its best not to get carried away with too many flavours when creating a decent, quick pasta sauce, unless, of course, it’s a Mexican mole sauce which requires about 45 ingredients.
Today’s pasta I used penne. My sauce I made from bacon, smoked salmon, black olives and a pesto cream. I wanted a creamy sauce to smother inside and around those perfect tubes of joy.
The plate of pasta heaven I garnished with some baby fresh oregano leaves and crumbled goat cheese, not the usual Parmesan.
I say, my silent reader, keep it simple and watch them lick their plates.
If you are lucky enough to live near some organic markets you might try this elk pasta treat. I found fresh elk sausage with huckleberries and also some elk pepperoni. I used these two main ingredients as the star for this orcheitto pasta paired with still more of my craving for wild morel mushrooms. I added some green peas and sweet red peppers for some colour and added texture. A good swirl of olive oil and some freshly grated Parmasean finshes off the dish.

Some Trophy H thoughts for today from my desk to yours, my silent reader.

We are all affected by the recent recession and we must be prepared for a few cutbacks.
Even MrD and me,myself and I, the Trophy H, are not above making some major changes in our everyday lifestyle, if it’s for the good of society.
I have already cutback on maids.
I no longer have a maid cleaning our condo 5 mornings a week.
Now she comes only once a week.
She still must do the same work.
I don’t put my Thursday, Porches Carrera 4 through the car wash. That is another thing the maid gets to do.
Cutbacks?
Last Sunday I took clients out for dinner at the biggest hotel here in Vancouver. None of us ordered the appetizers to go with our martinis.
We even ordered bottles of the house wine to go with the plats du jour.
I noticed the over worked and under paid staff at the hotel had also suffered a few cutbacks.
So my service was cutback, a bit.
So their tip was cutback, a lot.
I recently shopped at the local organic farmer’s market and bought regular olive oil and not the extra virgin pressed between the thighs of young Greek gods.
I cut back on a full wheel of French Brie cheese.
A half a wheel does not taste the same as a full wheel.
But I can learn to live with cutbacks.
MrD and I flew business class and not first class home from Asia the second last trip.
I have reduced my botox injections by 10 %.
I have not had my natural blond hair roots touched up in a noticeable amount of time.
I do not shop for shoes before 2 pm. on Mondays.
MrD only allows me to shop at Holt's on days that end in “Y”
See we can all make a difference.
Keep a stiff upper lip and don’t be hesitant to make sacrifices my silent reader.

Two easy slow cooker recipes.

Here are three easy but not quick trophy H recipes to add some zip to your cooking life. They also make great gifts to give to other food fans. Slow cookers or crock pots as they used to be called are not just for pot roast anymore. Here are two simple ideas even a new cook can master.
Mushroom pate. Puree a kilo of fresh mushrooms in a food processor or a blender with a bit of red wine or vegetable stock. If you don’t have a machine, get someone who loves you or works for you to chop the mushrooms as finely as possible. I used morel mushrooms for this the last time because they were in season but you can use any kind of mushrooms. This is actually a time where even those tasteless white button mushrooms can be utilized or try a combo of mushrooms. Put the mushroom blend in a slow cooker and add some salt and a good amount of black pepper. I sometimes add a teaspoon of fresh chopped rosemary but you can leave out the herbs and just go with the mushrooms and salt and pepper.
Turn the cooker on low and leave the lid off to allow the liquid to evaporate. Scrape down the sides with a spatula every half hour or so and give the mix a stir. When most of the liquid is gone, after about 4 hours, you are left with a mushroom concentrate perfect for adding to sauces, marinades or just eating as a spread on your favorite toast.
I used this pate to stuff chicken breast two ways. I put a layer under the skin and I made a pocket incision in the side and filled that with a mixture of the mushrooms, chopped black olives and capers. I served this with a side of fried polenta with herbs to MrD.
The extra pate freezes well or you can store it in the fridge for about a week before a blue mold starts and you have a whole new fungus food group but you are likely to eat it all before either of those things are required.
My second trophy H recipe is even easier and just as useful. Blend together equal amounts of maple syrup and regular, not your 25 year old 150 dollar balsamic vinegar, in a slow cooker and let cook on the low temperature with the lid off. I usually make this at night time and just leave it simmer away until the morning. You don’t even have to stir this. You are left with a truly trophy glaze that works on everything from chicken to ice cream and lasts for months in your refrigerator. Store the maple balsamic glaze in one of those squeeze bottles so handy for plate decorating.

Morel Mushroom BBQ Sauce

1/3 cup smooth Dijon mustard
1/3 cup tomato paste
½ cup banana or regular ketchup
1/3 cup maple syrup
1/3 cup equal parts Balsamic and malt vinegars
¼ teaspoon ancho chili powder
½ cup precooked morel mushroom paste
½ cup precooked chopped morels

Stir all ingredients together and cook uncovered in your slow cooker on the low temperature setting for about 2 hours. Excellent for grilled leather, feather, fin or even veggies.

MrD and trophy H fly upfront.

Every so often when MrD and I have to do the shuttle run back and forth to Manila from Vancouver we use our mileage points to upgrade from our business class seats to first class. We have both put more than enough time sitting in monkey class and there is nothing wrong with that but when you are old and cranky its best to have a bit of leg room and a flat bed or just stay home.
Friends and family have asked me many times what it is like up there past the curtains. Most people really don’t like to hear about others having a good time as much as the bad side of things. Fair enough. Those people can now click the close button and get on with the real world. For the rest who want to hear about my trip in 2D then read on my silent readers. Here is an excerpt from my diary.
I settle into seat 2D for the 13 hour and 22 minute flight to Hong Kong from Vancouver. It’s already nearly 3 am. There are only six seats in first class and 2 attendants, Valerie and Clarisse to take care of us. Valerie, one of our two flight attendants brings my complimentary Shanghai Tang pajamas and a Bally amenity kit. I take time to peak inside the Bally double zippered black bag and find a tooth brush, Colgate mouth wash and tooth paste, all standard, a shoe horn, Acca Kappa amenities consisting of a lip balm, anti aging moisturizer, white moss facial mist, ear plugs and a wooden comb. All in all no surprises there. Tonight’s soft cotton PJ’s have a rusty brown trim. I quickly change into an older pair of PJ’s I brought with me, saving the new ones for future house guests to snuggle up in some day. I am wearing a blue trimmed pair from an earlier flight so I don’t look part of the “tour” plus the crew will know I’ve been here before.
MrD is seated just in front and is already flipping through the foreign language movie channels. A New York Hasidim Jewish couple have seats to our right. He is standing up in his prayer shawl rocking back and forth in mid prayers. The high walls or our first class suites hide whoever the two to our left are. I notice there are no fresh orchids in our wall mounted flower vases. Cut backs on Cathay?
I have given our head flight attendant a large bar of Lindt 85% dark chocolate. It’s a good travel tip to bring small gifts for the cabin staff no matter where they seat you on the plane.
It’s 2:35 am. The big bird leaves the docking area. Our welcome bubbles have been sipped and flutes collected. Up, up and away. Our monkeys are travelling with us tonight. I hope they don’t snore. I hope I do. I managed to get a couple of hours sleep before we left so I can stay awake and enjoy some of the luxurious service. In first you order your food ala carte from the menu and eat when you want. I want to watch a movie or two.
Clarisse just brought the dinner menu and said she’d checked on the where abouts of the missing orchids. Tonight’s food fare starts with caviar and smoked salmon, asparagus soup to follow before a salad of greens with grilled prawns, dried cranberries, pecans dressed in a dilled lemon dressing. To follow will be pan fried beef tenderloin and portabello mushrooms with Cabernet sauce, served along seasonal roasted veggies and red skin potato mash. There is also ricotta ravioli with tomato basil sauce if I want but pasta on planes never works out to be a good choice. It is always comes partially dried out. I take that back. The 2 dollar instant noodles you have to buy on Air Canada is a delightful meal choice considering their options.
There is also a Chinese menu. We are after all on the way to Hong Kong. Cathay offers a chicken and young coconut soup, followed by a cold plate of marinated bean curd and carrots with the main of stir fried sea food with X.O. sauce, steamed rice and stir fried veggies. Its first so we can pick and choose or go for the works.
But first before I order any food,Clarisse returns and drops off a dish of warm smoked almonds and offers me a flute of the Krug Grand Cuvee Champagne. The wine list reads like the who’s who of what wine connoisseurs drool over. Like the Vintage Chardonnay and nose in the glass Malbecs. Chateau stars from 2003. No 4 star entries here. They are back in business class. This flight features the 2009 Morgon. A French Bordeaux Burgundy, old old vines of Gamay. 2009 was an exceptional vintage with a dense crimson dark cherry hint laced with velvet tannins. It promises a persistent length still fragrant at 15 thousand feet in a pressurized tin can.
There are lots of good cheeses on the menu for desert like Cambozola, Cheddar, Oka or goat cheese to go with the fresh berries and custard or the triple chocolate cake with vanilla cream and raspberry coulis. (But haven’t we just about had about enough raspberry coulis?) There is also a choice of black sesame desert for our Chinese fans and a full supply of chocolate pralines in case we are still feeling peckish.
If I find myself getting hungry later on there are snacks of grilled pork quesadillas, chicken, cheddar, tomato and bacon baguettes or braised beef brisket with noodles in soup. There is also a hot pot of rice with a minced pork patty and mushrooms in chicken broth or several flavours of Haagan Dass ice cream.
All this should keep me going until breakfast arrives two hours before landing in Hong Kong. My menu promises fresh squeezed juices or papaya kiwi smoothies, fresh fruits and yoghurt with or without cereal. Eggs served which ever way I fancy, like, boiled, fried sunny side up or scrambled and served with grilled Canadian ham, Cajun sausage, potato rosti, grilled Roma tomatoes and asparagus. There is a basket of warm croissant, muffins and toast to go with all that.
There is also a breakfast tray of dim sum for our Chinese lover’s morning menu and of course Kosher meals for my neighbours.
All this with a cappuccino, latte or espresso?
I fasten my seat belt for the long flight ahead and prepare to stuff my face.
Tonight we have four choices in our own bread baskets. Cathay’s signature garlic bread is not toasted as well as I like it. Besides, who eats garlic bread with caviar? The Melba toast will do just fine. Clarisse offers second helpings of caviar and salmon but I decline and move on to the soup course. A warm crusty rosemary bun keeps me amused while I wait and shuffle the over abundance of silver and crystal around on my linen covered over sized table.
The asparagus soup arrives with floating bits of al dente spring spears. I order a glass of French 2006 Meursault Les Clous from Bouchard Pere & Fils. It is crisp and clean as the asparagus floating in the pottage.
The soup is a little thin but the asparagus shines through. The wine proves a perfect compliment and reminds me of spring mountain meadows on a cool morning. All this at 15,000 feet and 4am remember. I’m glad I had a long nap before all this indulgence. I have to pace myself so I leave some soup for Clarisse to clear. Moments later Valerie arrives with tonight’s salad of huge jumbo prawns and roasted pecans. The prawns are a little too dry but the greens are crisp and abundant. The dried cranberries are complimented by the subtle lemon dill dressing.
I keep going back for crumbs and nibbles of the soft rosemary bun. I am not a big bread eater but this has a punch I enjoy. Valerie clears my left over shrimp salad. I am still attempting to pace myself. The beef and a glass of 2009 Morgon will follow. It shows up looking just like the steaks served in business class but on a bigger plate and swimming in more gravy but in first class we don’t call it gravy. The Morgon I send back because it’s too floral and almost sweet. Clarrisse offers a snifter of the 2003 Lynch Bages. It matches well with the beef, green and yellow grilled zucchini, carrot cornels and my lovely smashed red potatoes.
I have been eating for two hours and I still have dessert and coffee to work my way through. I leave a lot of the steak and veggies. I choose 2 of the 4 cheese selections although they all look tempting. Clarisse offers the vintage Ramos Pinto 10 year old Port to go with the cheese but I decline and sip a tiny bit more of the Bages. I decide to pass on the three other desert choices or I will have to go jogging into the back monkey section or do a trophy H Roman diet number in the toilet.
Besides it is time to sleep so while I go freshen up and give my good nights to MrD who is still munching away and watching films in foreign languages, Clarrisse and Valerie make up my 81 inch flat bed with its own mattress, over stuffed pillows and thick white duvet. Our fellow travelers are already off to dreamland.
I won’t bore you with breakfast details other than to let you know that the smoothie was a good choice and the fried egg sunny side up was not.
And then poof, all too soon the 14 hours had passed and the captain had turned on the seat belt signs for landing.
I don’t know how I managed to waddle off the plane and through immigration but MrD and I were soon settled into our suite at the Marriott in Hong Kong Central just in time for another breakfast in the business lounge.

In search of the once a month perfect burger.

It’s one burger a month for the Trophy Husband. This better be good I silently implore Mandy the bartender at “The Two Parrots” on the corner of Granville and Davie Streets in downtown Vancouver. My “Beef Canuck Burger” arrives nearly hidden under a side of fries that look not too greasy and show good colour. I hate pale fries. The charred champion’s nestled on a multi-grain bun. I don’t enjoy chewing on white buns. His big thick meaty patty hides beneath a glistening blanket of melted Canadian cheddar. Two strips of crispy bacon snuggle topside on my precious. I see some dill pickle and a generous - maybe too generous - slice of uncooked red onion, two pieces of real tomato and a leaf of fresh curly lettuce.
This Canuck is too big for my Trophy H mouth. I rip into his side as he drips his warm juice down the back of my hand. My second attack goes for his top. I bite down hard enough to rip a hunk of this warm flesh and chew. My teeth discover grilled mushrooms with their perfect, nipple-like texture. A dollop of flavoured mayo squirts around my tongue. I douse the fries with black pepper, cider vinegar and lovely tears of yellow hot dog mustard. No salt. Never ketchup! I can easily leave a lot of the fries, but all this tasty Canuck is going home in my gut.
This is my once a month burger fling. The bun could have been a bit more toasted.
A five star burger? Not quite, but better than most bar burgers. The fries get three stars only. But fries don’t really count to a trophy H. It’s the meat. Good meat between excellent bits of buns. The rest is not important in my once a monthly.
“The four star burger and a glass of house red, taxes and Mandy’s tip comes in at $20.
Let me know where to try next month’s burger. I think I will be in Hong Kong or Manila.
Stay tuned for next week’s update, my silent reader.

Easy pleasing spring pasta.

Sorry my faithful silent reader to have left you hanging in cyber blog land for such a very long time. A lot of what has been happening in my life lately is best left unrecorded. I am back and will be sticking to writing about food this week.
There is a new restaurant called “Basil Pasta Bar” that opened here in Vancouver on Davie Street, just around the corner from where our home is located. They have a great selection of ingredients, several choices of pasta and excellent sauces. You just put together which ever combo suits your fancy. It makes for an excellent test kitchen for my trophy H pasta suppers loved by MrD and crowds of lucky dining guests.
Here is a great recipe for an easy pleasing pasta dish that you can make in your own kitchen.
I used fussily but any pasta you want will work just “bene”. Chop up a couple of anchovies, a strip of crunchy grilled bacon, a slice or two of smoked salmon and a couple of spears of grilled asparagus and add these all to the pasta with a spoon of pesto. Stir well and serve garnished with some crumpled goat cheese and fresh oregano.
Buon Appetito

One of my favorite trophy H holiday pastimes is to wander along a beach letting my mind drift off to sea while the sounds of the waves relaxes and soothes my city mind. Boracay is my place for getting away. I was spending a wonderful afternoon strolling along the coast minding my own business when I felt something like a light kiss on my ankle. It turned out to be a slight nudge from a black banded water snake. What this young devil was doing on the beach I didn’t know but I was glad it was too small to get its fangs into me. “Very poisonous,” grinned two sailors who sat watching. Fortunately I did not scream and or faint but just stepped away and admired the serpent in its camouflaged splendor.
The snake was only about a foot in length. It was clearly a baby. Its parents were likely a meter long. This sea krait has a flattened tail like a fin that enables them to swim. They are most comfortable underwater where they can stay submerged for 15 minutes but this hansom specimen was exploring the sandy shore of rocks and sea weed washed ashore on this lonely section of beach on the island of Boracay in the Philippines. I had seen a large cousin of this creature the first and only time I went snorkeling around the island some years ago. I am a fan of snakes but prefer them to be behind glass in a sealed terrarium or made into a nice belt.
I watched this young fellow slither over the volcanic rocks at the water’s edge. I managed to get out my video camera and take a short film to show my snow shoveling friends back in Canada. The two sailors kept up telling snake stories. In the olden days I might have grabbed a long stick and smashed the serpent into paste but I happily let this beauty continue on its slinky way. I did not mention the scene to MrD and MsH, my travel companions who would likely have insisted we leave the island immediately for the city.
When I returned to Manila I showed the video to my staff who oohed and awed at my luck to see the most poisonous snake in the Philippines. They explained it is worse than a cobra bite because there is no anti venom. You have 8 hours to live before the paralysis in the toxic venom stills your heart. Not a fun way for a trophy H to spend a holiday.

Time flies when I am too.

It is great to be back home in Manila. The last week or so has found me sitting at airports awaiting long, long overdue flights or finally on board, stretched out, with my feet up and a glass of champs, earphones on and flipping channels trying to forget just how long the flights from Vancouver to Sydney, Australia really are in actual hours. The added comfort of having my sister along for the ride made it all bearable but it has not been easy.
First Cathay Pacific’s flight from Vancouver to Hong Kong which originates in NYC was delayed from 2 am until 5am because of snow storms on the east coast. That meant that after the 12 hour flight across the Pacific we would miss our connecting flight to Manila. They transferred us to an afternoon flight 6 hours after our scheduled takeoff time. Fortunately the Cathay lounge has shower facilities so we could freshen up a bit. If you have to get stuck in an airport lounge then Cathay Pacific’s Hong Kong Wing Lounge is as good a place as any.
MsH and I finally made it home to my home in Manila to rest for the night but it was back to the airport the next day for another flight back to Hong Kong with connections to Sydney, Australia. This time the flights were on time but when we arrived in Sydney at our hotel about 9:30 am the following morning. Our hotel room was not ready until 1:30 and I had my first appointment at 2pm. Trophy H was not in a very energetic mood and had to dig deep for any signs of my good humour.
The rest of the time spent in Sydney was as wonderful as always. I introduced Sis to old friends and we both made a couple of new ones. In between alternating rain showers and heat waves we patted the kangaroos and got our photo with Maggie the Koala at Sydney’s Taronga Zoo. MsH and I supped, sipped and shopped some of Sydney’s sensational offerings. Busy friends invited us to fabulous picnics, delicious dinners at their houses and guided tours of the sites of Sydney most tourists would not get to experience.
All too soon our short visit down under finished and we flew back to Manila to meet up with MrD who arrived from Vancouver after a stay in Tokyo. Now we can relax at home and put our tired feet up in the heavy heat. Tuesday we three will be flying off again to my favourite Island of Boracay that readers remember from my previous blogs.

A trophy H's guide to Aussie slang for MsH.

I can speak a little trophy H Australian slang thanks to spending several debauched afternoons down under with one or three of our lovable Aussie neighbours. In less than two weeks time, the day before the Vancouver Winter Olympics begin, I will make tracks down under to Sydney Australia with my older sister MsH. (I am hoping she will meet an Aussie sheep farming surfer type bloke, fall in love, get married and move to the other side of the planet away from what's left of her dysfunctional family.) Sis is a saint, lives in the frozen Canadian mid north taking care of very old people inside an old folk’s factory. Sis wants to pet a roo before she karks it. We are flying on Cathay Pacific, not Qantas, because business class is really so much better on CX. I will have about 24 air hours, to teach MsH Australian. My teacher was a lairy wharfie with an Irish accent. I met him in a seedy bar on Oxford Street in Sydney, Australia. He was all smiles and reddish blond hair. He began to fire away that he hadn’t got a zack, but was easy. I offered him my xxxx in exchange for a language lesson. He sat down all of his 6’8” workman’s blond self beside me for a yabbber, told me I looked a tall poppy, a dag and a galah to boot all lairs and not some naff, lamb brained, Joe Bloggs sitting at Maccas, giving mates an earbashing, over some barney with the boss. “Onya!”, he grinned and leaning down low towards me, begged me for a pash.
I thanked him for his kind observances and reluctantly declined his offer, but I surely didn’t rack off about it.
MsH is packing and preparing for our CX veg out and ear bashings. I never fill up my suitcase early. You, silent reader, know that the trophy H packs well. Tune in next week for more travel ideas about packing and fashionable updates. I’ll have three
trophy H helpful hints on how not to appear to be nouveau trash when you fly business or first class. I will also explain when and where and with whom to perform properly, the upgrade eyelashes flutter... Have a good week.



. Aussie Slang Phrases from “A” to “Z”

A over T verb:- to fall over, from "arse over tits".Barney noun:- an argument or fight cark it verb:- to die. dag adjective:- bits of manure that stick to the long wool around a sheep's bottom forming small dangling balls. Also a term for a funny person, nerd, goof, loser. In this respect it can have either an endearing or disparaging meaning, although is usually used for a likable fellow. Earbashing noun:- to talk to, or be talked to, for a long time. Generally implies a reprimand. fire away verb:- used to tell someone to begin speaking, usually to begin speaking their mind. Galah adjective:- an endearing term for a fool or silly person. Also, and from, a particularly noisy parrot coloured Pink and Grey. have a burl, have a crack, have a go verb:- to attempt to do something considered a little difficult. I'm easy adjective:- not worried, not concerned, or has no preference to the outcome of a choice. Joe Bloggs noun:- the average person in the street. Although the term is male, it is non-specific and therefor signifies a person of either sex. kark it verb:- to die or cease operation. Lair noun:- a flashily dressed young man, or a lout. Lairy adjective:- flashy, particularly appearance. lamb-brained adjective:- some one who is stupid or impractical. Macca's noun:- McDonald's make tracks verb:- to leave, depart or head off. Naff adjective:- useless, low quality, ridiculous. Onya misc:- an expression of encouragement, short for good on you. Pash noun:- a long and enthusiastic kiss. QANTAS noun:- Australia's national air carrier. QANTAS is an acronym for Queensland and Northern Territory Aerial Services Ltd. rack off misc:- go away, used when very angry with someone tall poppy noun:- a successful person or achiever who, as a result, is the target of jealousy and grudging remarks. up a gum tree noun:- confused, in a quandary about a problem. veg out verb:- to relax and think of, er, nothing. Waffle noun:- nonsense wharfie noun:- a dockside worker. XXXX noun:- Four X, the brand name for a popular Queensland beer. yabber verb:- to talk too much zack noun:- a Sixpence. Pre decimal currency used before Feb 1966. The term is still used today, but to indicate that someone is broke. "I haven't got a zack".

A visit with MsC

The trophy H has returned to MrD from a one day trip to Toronto visiting the fabulous MsC whom I have known for more than 30 years. We have been friends; competitors; hormone focused teenage mutant high school classmates. In our twenties, we shared a basement apartment in Rosedale for a couple of years. We were estranged friends at the worst of times but up close and personal about it all. We share a story. It's all fodder for the fire.
This recent chapter MsC and I are writing seems to involve, no one’s favourite topics, cancer and dying. MsC is writing from her hospital room where family and friends juggle visiting hours or some kind hospital staff fetches her for another rousing round of radiation. (If you have not yet found your way to her honestly heroic blog, “The Clothes Line Saga”, then you must read it.
I only managed two opportunities to visit with MsC this trip. I did not want to over stay my welcome or wear it out. I spent the morning perched at or on the side of her tiny bed talking far too much about needless trifles while MsC could only whisper. Her illness has affected her vocal cords. She promised me it was not painful for her to talk but she can only whisper. Staff interrupted with important questions about bowel movements, oatmeal or cream of wheat and offers of more pain altering medications. I did massage her bum leg for a bit but in case MsC’s mom reads this I did not rub above the knee. I got to fetch MsC ice chips from the “Nourishment Room”, down the hall on the other side of the nurse’s station. She finds it hard to swallow water but the ice chips can easily melt on her tongue and also give her something to occupy her wretched time. The errand gave me a moment to feel that I was actually doing anything useful in this nightmarish setting.
I had brought, what I thought, were totally useless gifts like a hand painted Japanese cocktail dress and a tiara. The diva dress was put on hold to go with martinis some other time. MsC had recently lost the use of her left dancing leg when the cancer had taken a tacky taste of her spine. However the tiara was found useful and went into immediate use and fit MsC perfectly.
I had fashioned a fragile crown from a bent silver wire, an off centered beaten looking heart between two lumpy loops, where huge diamonds or emeralds, should, but did not glimmer. All too soon my exhausted friend had me hang up her tiara in the sunny window and shooed me out the door so she could actually get some real work done.
I returned in the afternoon with a small bag of fruit in my hand. I entered the room and found my friend asleep, her thin pale white face on her pillow, slightly uplifted in her dreams, like I had remembered it thirty odd years ago. I was ten years old,hiding outside in my fourth grade school yard, in the bushes; either from the bullies, or doing them. I recalled watching MsC’s mother help her across the street from their house to our school. Msc was born with scoliosis.
MsC was nine. I was ten. We have been more or less friends ever since and always will be until death do us part and one day more.
I did not awaken MsC. She seldom gets any rest with the pain and discomfort her body is going through. I stood quietly in the corner of the hospital room. I let a few fond memories run by while I watched my poor tired and wasted ill friend sleep in comfort. MsC, as usual, looked rather grand, noble and at peace, all things considering,
It was hard to leave my sleeping pal without saying goodbye in words. I left the fruit on the bedside chair with a hurried note. I blew one more air kiss to MsC. Her new tiara hung on a framed photo of her with her real family.
Outside, the cold afternoon Toronto sun shone upon us all. I drifted back to my hotel, did a trophy H pack up, checked out, grabbed a limo, did the airport thing and flew home to MrD without my usual shopping or stopping.