Chocoholics anonymous

I tried not to shop on my last two trips out of the country. I succeeded in Prague, but failed miserably in Köln. Unpacking after both weekends, I discovered that I'd managed to acquire multiples of my favorite things. The first was shoes; the second, chocolate. 

The full stash, clockwise from top left:

• Stainer 75% Cocoa with Cinnamon, from Italy. Cinnamon and dark chocolate, two of my favorite things. This brand has gorgeous packaging, metallic gold with field-guide style botanical and zoological illustrations.
• Madecasse 63% Cocoa with Sea Salt and Nibs, from Madagascar. Am I the only one thinking "I like to move it move it"? I suppose "nibs" means it's crunchy.
• Casa Amatller Chocolate a la Taza, also with cinnamon, from Spain. The Amatller family made chocolate and lived in Gaudi's famous building in Barcelona. Sounds like my kind of life. One bar should make four cups of chocolate. I should have broken it out this week, it might have taken the edge off my extended-winter blues. 
• Ritter Sport Nugat from Germany. My absolute favorite German import. I've been addicted for over a decade.
• Becks Cocoa in "A Clockwork Orange" from Germany. Hot chocolate flavored with Moroccan oranges plus a classic film reference, ooh. This requires a precious cup.
• Emils Gustavs Dark Chocolate with Pink Peppers, from Latvia. Finding treats like this (from "one of the best confectioneries in Eastern Europe") is why I love living in Europe. I mean, Baltic chocolate. Really, who eats chocolate from Latvia? Now, I do! 
• How could I leave out the humble Chocnut? Cas handed me and Marlon two packs of homegrown peanut buttery goodness when I watched the Glee Club in Oberweyer, a gesture that delighted me... and my taste buds. 

The best part about this stash? Only the Ritter and Stainer have actually been consumed. Willpower for the win!

Meat me in Prague

Aside from having amazing coffee and cakes, Prague is also a great city for meat. Sausages and stews are part of the Czech national cuisine, and I certainly filled up my year's (meager) quota of pork during the three days I was there. 

We kept seeing these vendors grilling huge hocks of ham. There was one a few meters from our hotel, one on the Old Town Square, and another at Wenceslas Square near the National Museum. I swear, the meat drew Marlon like a moth to a flame. "Go for it," I kept telling him, and he kept saying no (go figure). 

On our last day, he finally gave in and ordered a big plate of ham for himself, along with a bowl of fried potatoes. I can't take meat in such... meaty form, so I opted for a spicy sausage with mustard instead. This was our cheapest lunch by far (about €6, or Php 240), and we ate it on the street. 

For our last meal, we decided to splurge on Cestr, a restaurant located in the new National Museum building (across the road from the old one).

It's a modern Czech restaurant that specializes in beef—every single part of a cow, in fact. Ever tried the hanging tender or oyster blade? By referring to the handy diagram folded into the single-sheet menu, now you can.

This was heaven for my meat-loving birthday boy. He declared his roast brisket the best he'd ever had, and excitedly scampered back from the men's room to tell me he'd seen an entire cow hanging in a meat locker out back. I could have sworn his eyes shone when the waiter who served our meal told us that the meat had been aged for 60 days.

As for me, well... okay. I'm not a big meat person but I did enjoy my meal, which was beef shoulder braised in a pepper sauce. I was more impressed by the bowl of fries that came with the meat. They were absolutely perfect. Best. Fries. Ever. 

What really won me over, though, was dessert. The Czech Republic is known for its beer, so I made sure to get not just a beer, but a beer in dessert form: dark beer ice cream, with plums stewed in rum, caramel whipped cream and crunchy caramel bits on top. It was every bit as good as it sounds (and possibly more).

Cafe culture

One of the major ways I've changed over the years has to do with the way I travel. As I get older, the more I prefer a laid-back pace. Although I can be meticulous about researching and planning an itinerary for each trip, I get stressed out by careening from one activity (or "tourist attraction") to another. Instead, I enjoy the spaces in between, the times spent doing just nothing. 

Maybe it's because I'm not 19 anymore and have less energy. Or maybe it's the European influence. They are very good at doing nothing and simply enjoying the moment. I used to laugh at Europeans sprawled in the sun on any available patch of grass. Before our tour of Prague Castle, Marlon and I "wasted" a good half-hour just sitting on a bench by the Vltava river, enjoying the warm sunshine and the view of the castle across it.

Another European "time-waster" that I have happily embraced is their cafe culture. I was actually craving for it in Prague: to just sit down and take my time to enjoy a good coffee and pastry. Luckily, the Cafe Louvre on Narodni Avenue combined my craving for some downtime with a piece of Prague's history.

Similar to the Belle Epoque in Paris, prominent intellectuals and artists of the day would gather and mingle in cafes like this one. Opened in 1902, the Cafe Louvre was frequented by the likes of Franz Kafka and Albert Einstein. 

Thanks to its strong Austro-German influence, Prague is an amazing place for cakes and pastries. It was hard to choose, but eventually we ended up getting a poppy seed cake with a fine dusting of sugar and a serving of caramel ice cream. We also got the thickest, most delectable hot chocolate, so thick it couldn't be sipped and had to be licked off the spoon. My favorite kind!

I cherish these lingering times. That to me is what makes a vacation (or as the Europeans say, a holiday). I treasure the luxury of not having to do anything. I embrace the gift of simply enjoying each other's company, and of shared pleasures like reading and drawing (hence our Mucha-inspired collaboration).

And I take delight in savoring the little differences that are just interesting as the big sights—like how coffee is served with a little glass of sparkling water, for example. No idea what it's for, but I thought it was quirky.

How do you prefer to travel? And have you noticed it change over the years?

Shock-o-latier

Just off the Meir, Antwerp's most important shopping street, is the one of the city's most important monuments: the Rubenshuis. (Note: in Dutch, the vowel pairing ui is pronounced "au," so you literally say Rubens' house.) I was surprised at how massive it was; clearly, unlike other famous Dutch artists—Van Gogh comes to mind—Peter Paul Rubens enjoyed commercial success during his lifetime.

Unfortunately, with all the eating and shopping, Marlon, Yeho and I didn't catch up to the Rubenshuis before closing time. To console ourselves, we backtracked to an interesting building just around the corner from the Rubenshuis—the Paleis op de Meir. 

A 250 year-old building with an illustrious list of owners from Napoleon to William I of the Netherlands to the Belgian Royal family, the Paleis now houses a brasserie, heritage foundation, ballroom-turned-party-venue, and a chocolate shop. A visit to Belgium is not complete without a box of Belgian chocolates to take home, so we stepped into the latter for a visit. 

The Chocolate Line is a Michelin-listed chocolatier established by Fabienne DeStaerke and Dominique Persoone in Brugge. This second shop in Antwerp works out of Napoleon's former kitchen, which you can step into for a view of the chocolatiers in action. 

Also on display in the the kitchen was a gown created for Miss Belgium entirely out of Belgian chocolate. I immediately notified our resident pageant expert, but he was unable to ID the candidate and year. If it were me, this dress would probably not have made it out of my boudoir. #nomnomnom 

Dominique Persoone calls himself a "shock-o-latier" due to the unique and inventive flavor combinations used in his chocolates. The only thing I really found shocking in his shop was this giant photograph of nude models strewn in an alley, like corpses drizzled in chocolate. It reminded me of the St. Bartholomew's Day Massacre as depicted in the French film Queen Margot with Isabelle Adjani. Yikes.

Naturally, we couldn't leave without sampling the goods. We settled on a box of 250 grams, or about 14 pieces, for €14.50.

Our box included such flavors as mocha ganache, coriander and salted peanut, basil with olives and sun-dried tomato chutney, and lavender.

What's left of our box now: pralines with sake, wasabi, saffron and curry powder, and bacon. Yes, bacon. I'm saving that for last.

Antwerp by day, Antwerp by night

Marlon and I recently had a weekend visit from his cousin Yeho, who lives in Heidelberg, Germany. At her behest (and with her car), we drove down to Antwerp for the day. I've always wanted to go, and the car was the catalyst for me to finally overcome my inertia. Clocking in at just 2.5 hours, it's a really easy drive. Yes, Belgium is the new Batangas.

We left at around noon and arrived in the center of town in time for a late lunch, and started the drive back a little after dinnertime. Having two meals in Antwerp was of paramount importance, since Belgium smacks the Netherlands to the ground in terms of cuisine.



For me, a visit to Belgium is not complete without a large pot of mussels, a Belgian beer, and a fantastic dessert—usually a dame blanche ("white lady"), a childhood favorite of mine and the Belgian equivalent of a hot fudge sundae. Some say it's a Catholic vs Protestant thing, while others ascribe it to proximity to France, but whatever the reason is, I am gobsmacked by how meals can be so radically different just across the border!

In between meals, we strolled, shopped and saw a few sights. With only a few hours at our disposal, we barely scratched the surface. Luckily, we were parked right in the center of town, so leaving the car in the afternoon and returning to it at in the evening gave us the opportunity to see some of Antwerp's iconic buildings in two distinct lights.

The Cathedral of Our Lady was closed, so we missed out on some of Peter Paul Rubens' most famous works housed within. We did get nice day vs night views of this impressive Gothic structure...

... as well Grote Markt, or Old Market Square. It was a smaller-scale version of Brussels' Grand Place, with similar gabled guild houses. A big difference is in what it's called; I didn't see any signs pointing to a Grand Place here. Being so close to the Netherlands, Dutch is more widely spoken in Antwerp than French; our smattering of Nederlands actually helped us get around and read menus. Here's the Grote Markt by day... 

... and by night. If the perpetual rain is good for anything, it's for making cobblestones gleam. 

On one side of the Grote Markt is the Stadhuis, or City Hall. Again, by day... 

... and by night. 

Driving into the city, our curiosities were piqued by this stunning building. It turned out to be the Museum aan de Stroom, or MAS, a museum about the city of Antwerp "and its relationship with the world."  (Iiiiiinteresting.) Built by famous Belgian architects Neutelings Riedijk, Antwerp's history as an important port city inspired this design of shipping containers stacked in a spiral. We returned in the evening, but the museum was already closed; this definitely warrants a return trip! 

Fortunately, the surrounding quayside, Het Eilandje ("The Islet"), was also a good area to end up in, being a former port area with interesting bars and restaurants. It was hard to get into a restaurant without a reservation, but we managed to find a table at a great bar called Het Duvels Genot (literally, "The Duvel Enjoyment"... kind of like the Heineken Experience, I guess). 

I've learned to expect crappy food when I walk into a bar in Amsterdam, but Belgium thoroughly has a leg up in this area. We had an awesome meal cooked with a variety of beers from the Duvel brewery, with hearty portions and reasonable prices. It was another one of those times where I was so involved with my food, I totally forgot to take pictures. Definitely a good reason (of many!) to make a return trip.

Five faves from... Istanbul

Hoo boy, I've been busy busy busy these past two weeks! I had so much about Istanbul that I wanted to blog about, but I figured if I had to wait until I actually had time to write about all of it, it would just never happen. And so much has happened since that trip, that I really need to blog and be done with it.

So I'm wrapping up my Turkey posts with a roundup of my five favorite things about Istanbul. I think the tag "five faves from..." could easily apply to anyplace and anything, so watch out... it might just become a regular feature around here!

1) Sweets at Saray. There are lots of sweet shops selling pasha lokum, more famously known as Turkish delight, along Istiklal Caddesi. But all of them pale in comparison to Saray Muhallebicisi, a restaurant, tea and dessert shop that's been satisfying Istanbul's sweet tooth since 1935. Saray's huge storefront window, filled with a tempting array of Turkish sweets, is completely mesmerizing.

Until Saray, I never knew watching syrup drip could be so hypnotic. You are getting sleeeepy... you will want to eaaaat meeeee...



Brisk, efficient staff in old-school uniforms dish out tray after tray of sweets to a packed house and long queues at the takeout counter. Towering stacks of treats disappeared literally in minutes. It was fascinating to watch.

Inside: bedlam. Four completely packed floors of sugar frenzy. Those servers were practically mobbed!

Speaking of sugar frenzy, this was another one of those moments where everything was so yummy I forgot to take pictures. Just take it from me, those sweets in the window are every bit as rich and delicious as they look. Best washed down with a hot Turkish tea or strong Turkish coffee!

2) Aya Sofya. It was a photo of the Aya Sofya (or Hagia Sophia) that first made me want to visit Istanbul. The city's most ancient, and most famous monument was built by Emperor Justinian in 537 AD, and was many things in its long and tumultuous history: a church, a mosque, then a museum.

Behold the splendor, after the jump!

Friday night in Istanbul

Every city has an iconic avenue, a vital artery through which the lifeblood of the city flows. Paris has its Champs Elysees, Barcelona its Las Ramblas, and Singapore its Orchard Road. What Istanbul has, is Istiklal Caddesi. 

That's precisely where Marlon and I found ourselves on our first evening in Istanbul. We were far too tired to do much more than take an evening stroll, after getting up at 3am to leave Cappadocia and traveling the entire morning. On our way there, dozens of Turkish flags hung up for the Victory Day national holiday waved us on. 

You know things are about to get interesting when you see public art like this, at the south end of Istiklal Caddesi just minutes from our apartment. 

We hit the first bend in the road with a slight downward slope. Looking down at Istiklal Caddesi from that gentle hill, two things immediately came to mind. "Madness!" was the first. What followed next, I had no words for at the time. But now I know what it was: it felt like home. And this shows you why.

A taste of Turkey

My past experience of Turkish food in the past can be summed up in three words: fast, greasy and cheap. In Cappadocia, I became reacquainted with this cuisine in what was a long-overdue "proper" introduction. It turns out that whatever version of Turkish cuisine has made it out of the country and become ubiquitous around Europe are but pale fast-food shadows of the real thing.

Care for a sampling? Let's eat!

Top row: At Cafe Safak in the center of Goreme, the owner Ali's mother makes a competition-winning lentil soup (warm, hearty and cheap!); a refreshing cucumber, tomato and onion side salad; pide, Turkish-style pizza with cheese and sausage. Bottom row: "Pottery" kebap, a meat stew (your choice beef, chicken or lamb) slow-cooked in a terracotta pot that's broken at the table; chicken kebap fresh from the pot, served with rice; tangy pickled beet slaw; local red wine from Cappadocia.

The Turkish are a people after my own heart. They love their sweets and so do I! Thanks to the Turkish sweet tooth, meals always ended with a variety of delectable pastries. I chose to wash mine down with the omnipresent çay, or Turkish tea, while Marlon opted for very strong (too strong for me!), almost mud-thick Turkish coffee.

Top row: Sweet and chewy borek, a layered and baked (or fried) phyllo pastry that seems to be the Turkish national snack (it's everywhere!), best with a glass of warm Turkish tea. Bottom row: Marlon enjoying his manly coffee with delicate bites of baklava.

I thought it was going to be easy to stick to my low/no-carb diet while in Turkey. ("They eat a lot of kebabs right? Grilled meat? I should be fine!") As you can see, I was way off the mark... but quite happy to be wrong!

Tasting Trastevere

Just one last Rome post on my list before I get back to my life here in Holland (which has been pretty awesome lately, by the way). Still on the food trail, I simply must blog about Trastevere.

Nearly everyone I talked to who had ever been to Rome insisted that we visit Trastevere. A Roman neighborhood with narrow, winding streets that date back to medieval times, it has maintained its charm and character while becoming a local hangout and foodie hotspot filled with great restaurants and happening pubs. "You will love Trastevere," our Dutch teacher, who had lived in Rome for years, assured us.

And we did. Three of the four dinners we had in Rome, we had in Trastevere. We took pretty much the same route each time, making these stunning sunsets over the Tiber a regular affair.

For our first dinner, we headed to Dar Poeta, a pizzeria recommended by a few people on Chowhound. We got there before seven so we didn't have a hard time getting a table, but just one hour later the queue for tables was snaking all the way down the cobblestoned alley. There were quite a few tourists in the queue, but also a lot of people speaking Italian, which is always a good sign.

I ordered the Superbufala, topped with raw mozzarella bufala, black olives, tomato and pecorino cheese. Not only was I knocked out by all that glorious cheese, but the crust—somewhere between light and crisp on the bottom, chewy and soft on top—was unlike any I've ever had.

But that's not the showstopper at Dar Poeta. The Nutella and ricotta calzone is.

Ready for some food porn? This is what happens when you cut into the calzone.

Rome nom nom nom

After falling into a number of tasteless tourists traps during my Portugal trip, I was determined to find good eats in Rome. My online research led me to the Chowhound forums, which in turn led me to some of the best meals of my trip. Now... where do I begin? 

Let's start with the first meal of the day. Nope, not breakfast... gelato!

My first meal on my first day was a cone of creamy caffe, my all-time favorite flavor (flavorite?), for just €1.50. As we were walking from our apartment to the Centro Storico, I spotted a hole-in-the-wall gelateria somewhere on the Via Lepanto, marked with the words "gelati Siciliani" and "produzione propria artigianale."

Now, Gelati originated in Sicily and foodies assert that gelati in Sicily is way different from the rest of Italy. Another tip I found around the blogosphere is to keep an eye out for gelaterias that are marked "produzione propria" (homemade), "nostra produzione" (our own production) or "produzione artigianale" (produced by artisans).

If you can't tell by the smile on my face, this gelato was the my idea of a most kick-ass benvenuti from Rome. Marlon had the cannele, or cinnamon, which was everything you would imagine cinnamon gelato to be. Not having that was probably my only regret of the entire trip!

My other memorable gelato experience was at Giolitti near the Pantheon. We stumbled on it quite by accident. It was only when I looked up Giolitti much later, that I found out it's actually Rome's oldest ice cream parlor.

The gelati guardians at Giolitti's counter will actually refuse to serve you if you order a combination of flavors that they feel do not go together at all. Fortunately, my limone e champagne combo passed their scrutiny. Unfortunately, after only a few truly intoxicating licks, the scoop of champagne dropped from my cone onto the ground. Ugh.

Thanks to Chowhound, I learned that Thursday is gnocchi day in Rome. Who are we to buck tradition? Our Lonely Planet Rome app (worth it for the offline map!) led us a few twists and turns away from the madding crowd and cheap tourist menus surrounding the Pantheon, to this unmarked trattoria for a reasonably priced meal that hit the spot.

In the same neighborhood, near the Keats-Shelley House, was the Chowhound-recommended La Campana, where I ordered (and thoroughly enjoyed!) something very out of character for me: rigatoni with oxtail. Romans love their offal—so as they say, when in Rome...

The service at La Campana was smooth and efficient, and our waiter lit up when I tried ordering with the few words of Italian I memorized on the plane.

Friendly service was also a pleasant surprise at Anti Luzzi, a tiny, family-run sidewalk trattoria near the Pantheon recommended by the owners of our B&B. At €8, their pizzas were half the price of those being sold across the street. And when I ordered a granita di caffe to cap my meal, the waiter tried to explain something to me in Italian. After seeing that I couldn't understand him, he brought me a small taste of their granita... just to make sure I liked it enough to commit to an order.

I was expecting a basic iced coffee, and got a delightfully cold (perfect for the heat!), sinfully creamy dessert. What's not to like?

Our final meal on the run was at Volpetti, a legendary gourmet deli on the Via Cola di Rienzo, a major shopping street close to St. Peter's Square and Piazza Cavour where we caught the shuttle bus to the airport. It's right next to a famous gourmet grocery called Franchi. If we hadn't been in such a rush to get to the airport, Marlon and I would have loved to spend a good hour or two browsing in these two shops. It's probably good for our wallets that we didn't!

Volpetti's system is familiar to all of us Pinoys. This is turo-turo, Roman style.

We stood at the counter to tuck in: Marlon with his porchetta (roast pork) and stuffed pomodoro tomatoes, me with my orzo (barley) alla contadina and insalata di polpo (octopus salad). 

We inhaled everything in less than 15 minutes and rushed off to the airport, bellies full. If only all fast food experiences were as precious.