meyer lemon mini cakes

Before I went home to the Philippines last December, my childhood friend T. told me: "you HAVE to try the calamansi muffins in Real Coffee in Boracay!"

Calamansi is something I most definitely miss here. It's a citrus fruit that's smaller than a key lime and native to the Philippines. We use it in almost everything - squeezed to make lemonade (although that is a heck of a job to squeeze so many tiny fruits to get enough juice), as a marinade for seafood and meats, a flavor enhancer for grilled food, and so many more. In fact, many times a plate of food at a Filipino restaurant would include a calamansi, sliced in half, for you to squeeze the juice over top. We also make fruit shakes out of it. The taste is quite distinct - it's like a cross between a lime and a tangerine.

I'm shaking my head in disbelief now because I was going through my many photos from my trip and could not find a single photo of it. Perhaps because it's something I grew up with? Here is a photo from the Filipino food blog Burnt Lumpia. My good friend K, who came with us on this trip, took a photo of it - scroll about halfway down this post and you'll see it right beside a heap of noodles. Thank goodness one of us took a picture :)

So when T. told me about calamansi muffins, I was intrigued. This was not something I remembered from previous trips to Boracay island (and I do have a good food memory).

I imagined something like a lemon poppyseed muffin, like what you would get at many coffee shops nowadays... but so much better. Biased, I know.

The first time we attempted to go to Real Coffee and Tea, I was disappointed to see it was closed. I wasn't online much during this trip and didn't check the website for their hours. It was after dinner after all, and apparently it is only open during the day. We were leaving the next day, and I wondered whether we could still make it there. The day before, we got rained on all day so we missed out on being able to explore further.

Thank goodness the sun came out.

The day we were scheduled to leave, we booked morning massages for all four of us right on the beach. Let me tell you, there is absolutely nothing like it. And for the equivalent of... maybe $8 for an hour of massage, with the sound of the waves, the sea breeze, and the warm sunshine... oh what I would trade to have that right now...

A massage with a view.

And of course, after the massage, I had to maximize my time in the water, down to the last possible  minute. I found out that Real Coffee offers delivery, so it was the perfect solution. Tracking down this muffin was important business, right? I thought, "go big or go home", so I went ahead and requested a dozen muffins for delivery.

When the much-anticipated muffins arrived at our resort, I went ahead and sampled one immediately. It did not disappoint. (I don't have a picture of it either... it was so good). It had the perfect sweet-tart flavor of calamansi, and a moist crumb.

If I remember correctly, the four of us took turns schlepping this precious cargo box of muffins through multiple modes of transportation (hotel shuttle, bus, plane, and finally the car ride home from the airport).

So this is a long story to say that I have been craving these calamansi muffins. But I think Meyer lemons can stand in for calamansi for now, because that's all I have. And this might be my last hurrah with Meyer lemons until next winter. This isn't a recipe for muffins, but they're just as good, if not better.

Meyer Lemon Mini Cakes
(adapted from Cooking Light, August 2007, lemon buttermilk cake)

3/4 cup granulated sugar
2 tbsp Meyer lemon zest (zest of 4-5 meyer lemons)
1/4 cup butter (half a stick)
1 1/2 tbsp Meyer lemon juice
1 whole egg
1 egg white
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 cup buttermilk, shaken

Glaze (optional)
1/4-1/3 cup confectioners sugar
Meyer lemon juice

1. Preheat the oven to 350. Butter and lightly flour your pan. For this recipe, I used a 6-cup mini-cake pan which I scored on sale and absolutely love. It's no longer available, but here is a similar one. You could also use a muffin pan or perhaps even a loaf pan, though I haven't tried it in those.  
2. Add the flour, salt, baking powder, and baking soda to a bowl and whisk together.
3. In a large bowl, or in the bowl of a stand mixer, rub the sugar and lemon zest together. I like doing this step, just as I did with the grapefruit yogurt pound cake I wrote about a few months ago. This step helps perfume the sugar and also separates the clumps of zest so that they get thoroughly incorporated into the batter.  
4. Add the butter to the bowl and cream together the butter and sugar on medium speed until light and fluffy.
5. Add the lemon juice, followed by the whole egg and egg white, beating well after each addition.
6. Mix in the dry ingredients in three parts, alternating with the buttermilk in two parts (so you begin and end with the dry ingredients).
7. Mix together just until the wet and dry ingredients are combined. Do not overmix - excessive mixing activates the gluten in the flour, resulting in tough or rubbery cakes - which is a tragedy in my book.
   Spoon the batter into your prepared pan. Bake for about 25-30 minutes or until the tip of a knife inserted in the center of one of the cakes comes out clean (a few crumbs sticking to the cake are ok).
8. Place the cake pan on a wire rack to cool for ten minutes, then loosen the cakes from the pan and allow them to cool further on the wire rack.
9. While the cakes cool, make the glaze: add enough Meyer lemon juice to the confectioners sugar to make a thick liquid. Whisk together until smooth. When cakes have completely cooled, drizzle the glaze over the cakes. 

These cakes turned out so moist, thanks to the buttermilk. The Meyer lemons impart a sweet, almost floral and citrus flavor that is just so distinct from the tartness of regular lemons. Although not exactly the calamansi muffins from sunny Boracay, I'd say it's close enough, being on the opposite side of the world where the earth is just waking up from a long winter*.

As a final note - you'll be zesting more lemons than you'll need for juice for this recipe, so might as well go on a Meyer lemon-themed meal after making these cakes. I am craving a Meyer lemon vinaigrette over some roasted asparagus or blanched peas... sounds like the perfect winter-to-spring meal to me.

*I know it's nearly May, but Cleveland always gets the memo pretty late. We still had a brief moment of flurries last week!

is it only Monday? (and, reminiscing a family lunch in the Philippines)

First working day of the week, and I'm already tired. Is that what happens when you approach your mid-thirties?

I shudder just saying that. Mid-thirties.

I could use some of this in my life right now:

chocolate souffle | Antonio's, Tagaytay, Philippines

And this:

Chocolate and coffee should give me more energy, right? Right. Of course.  ;-)

Looking at these photos, I'm remembering the lovely lunch I had with my family back home. It was in this place called Antonio's, and it is a beautiful, old (but maintained/restored) Spanish-Filipino style house with a lush tropical garden.

My brother and sister-in-law had their wedding reception here - I still regret not being able to go home for that milestone of an event - I didn't have my green card yet at the time, and my family told me not to leave the US and risk not being able to re-enter. So I was happy to be able to finally see the place.

More details...

 I loved being able to see everything so GREEN in December.

And then I remembered, that's what I grew up with 23 years of my life. Funny how being away changes one's perspective so much. I saw these sun-dappled patches with new eyes.

 Glorious sunlight. Yes, this is what December looks like in the Philippines.

More details...

She-and-He labels for restrooms

And A. having a moment with my niece P.

And let's not forget the food...interestingly, this was one of the few non-Filipino meals I had during our trip.

I don't eat a ton of cheese on a regular basis, so the raclette was a treat. The pickled vegetables cut through the richness of the cheese, which was a nice contrast. Of course, you can't go wrong with buttered and toasted baguette. I'm also not a huge fan of kohlrabi, but the soup was quite good.

L: raclette; R: cream of kohlrabi soup

Salads, below. I made it a point to eat kesong puti (this amazing creamy local cheese) every chance I got. I kind of met my cheese quota at this point already with the raclette I had prior, but what the heck...

L: baked kesong puti with arugula; R: mesclun with gorgonzola

And the rest of our meal... between courses, we had a pineapple sorbet, followed by the main course, which A. and I shared. And yes, I ate chicken. I believe it was a local chicken. Don't worry, I didn't go all Portlandia on the server (and if you haven't seen that video, it is hilarious). That said, in the interest of full disclosure, I did eat chicken during this trip - there were some traditional dishes that you just can't get anywhere else. This one was quite good (but not quiiiite the best) - crispy outside and juicy inside... accompanied by a romesco sauce and the creamiest, most indulgent risotto. Yum.

Quite obviously, there was no shortage of chocolate.

Clockwise from left: chocolate souffle with cardamom creme anglaise, muscovado sugar, coffee from local beans, a trio of panna cotta - chocolate, hazelnut, and vanilla, and another chocolate dessert with pistachios

And on that note... I need to prepare dinner now. Except it's our usual bean-and-vegetable dinner (tonight it's a Greek lima bean stew and caramelized brussels sprouts), and nothing like this decadence... and just a quiet table for two at home, not a long table for 8-10 like the many family meals shared during our trip.

In the meantime, I am wishing for this right now:

(See the word I'm thinking of?)

ebb and flow

When it rains (snows)... it pours.

I have 4 big projects with deadlines that somehow all seemed to merge into the same week. Next week, to be exact.

I've come to realize that there is an ebb and flow to everything. Like last week, I think I posted 3 times on this blog. This week, zero, until today. Since this blog is more for a creative outlet and space for random musings, I don't hold myself to any particular number as far as frequency of writing here.

Or one week, I might walk some, practice yoga, try an online barre3 video. On another week, I may not have the energy for anything else but yoga.

Or, I might spend a whole afternoon cooking and baking up a storm (I like how Faith calls it a "kitchen rampage"). Then a week later, I just want takeout, when the only effort I can muster goes into opening the bag of food.

It's true with work as well. Some weeks are better than others. Some weeks, I feel like I have it all together and other weeks, I ask myself, "what the heck am I doing???"

I've come to realize that the balance also comes from being ok with this ebb and flow. Accepting what is.

Because it's all a matter of perspective. Or so I remind myself, when the anxiety hits. Life is never perfect. We'll never "reach" that so-called perfectly balanced state. I don't think it's a balanced state as much as it is a balanced perspective.

It's balancing the expectation of the task with my knowledge of myself. Not this lopsided view of overestimating the task and underestimating my abilities, as I tend to do.

Boracay, Philippines | December 2012

As I sit here watching the infamous "lake effect" snow fall outside my window, I am reminded of my time at the beach in the Philippines this past December and January. The ebb and flow of the tide, and how soothing it was in its rhythm.

I remember inhaling and exhaling with this ebb and flow, feeling this sense of calm just wash over me with every gentle wave that laps at the shore. Aaaahhh. The magic of the ocean.

But without this beloved tropical beach outside my door, I rely on my breathing once more. I visualize the steadiness of the tide.

And slowly, with the ebb and flow of my own breathing, I notice my heartbeat is no longer racing. My jaws loosen. My shoulders start to relax away from my ears, bit by bit.

Somehow, my breathing also silences the inner critic, and I find hidden underneath the anxiety is a source of energy and wisdom. 

And that was my short-but-sweet five-minute yoga practice. 

bits and pieces of home

I'm not a good storyteller.

I don't remember details of what was said by whom and how it was said and when.... much to my mother's chagrin when she wants to hear juicy stories of moments like when A. proposed and what-not. My mom, on the other hand, remembers everything, from the exact words to the speaker's intonation. In contrast, I might remember a few quick conversational exchanges at the most, but that's about it. I do have a really good memory for strange purposes/things like restaurant menus. Don't judge.

All that said, I don't have a long story of my trip to India and the Philippines. My amazing, month-long, 12-airports-in-30-days trip.

What I do remember, are images. Moments captured either on camera, but mostly those that are in a freeze-frame in my mind. And I remember, with clarity, what I felt at the time.

So my stories might come in short bursts here in there. Not necessarily in chronological order.

Even this post took me several "installments" to write, because the stories come back when I least expect it, and not in any linear fashion. So I write in bits and pieces, what I remember and when I remember it. And I write, so that I can remember.

(And also, I had to hit the ground running as the semester started a couple of days after I arrived back here... hence having to write in small chunks of time here and there.)

I surprised myself by not taking as many pictures as I thought I would on this trip, especially in the Philippines. Under other circumstances, photography helps me appreciate the moment and pay attention to details. But a big part of me wanted to just soak it all in, and not behind a camera. With the thinking that the several seconds or that minute I spend getting the settings on my camera just right for each shot adds up, over the course of a month and hundreds of pictures, to potentially hours spent not being fully present with my family. 

~

I remember this tug at my heartstrings watching my sweet niece P. Thinking about how fast she's growing, and how she sometimes talks like an adult even at age 4. How she asked me to read the book I gave her, The Princess and the Pizza (in which the heroine has the same name as she! And as a side note, I love the feminist perspective of the story), again and again during a road trip. And how affectionate she is to everyone, randomly giving hugs, kisses, and I-love-yous to any member of the family, including A.

my niece's naturally wavy ponytail

Oh, and I do remember this one brief exchange as retold by my brother (her dad).

One morning, while we were vacationing in Cebu (a city south of the capital, Manila), P wakes up, and with her eyes half-closed she stretches in bed, and sleepily says: "I love Tito A." (as in my husband A.). Mind you., A. wasn't even with us at the time, because he had to fly home to Cleveland sooner. And then, almost like she suddenly remembered, her eyes open fully and she sees my brother standing in front of her. Then quickly, she says:

"Oh, I love you too, Dad."

Nice save, P. :)

And it made me reminisce with my parents, those days when my nephews (now pre-teens... how did that happen?) were babies. And my other 4-year-old niece's voice mail saying, "Hi Tita Mia, I'm big now, I'm going to school."

~

I remember both the warmth that accompanies that trip-down-memory-lane, as well as the slight ache in my belly (that is where I feel things, you know. Again... don't judge) as I pored over old photos of my late grandparents, framed and preserved in my parents' home. The home I grew up in.

Like this one. My grandfather, the perfect example of "chivalry is not dead" -- even as they were approaching 90 (!) -- asked my mom to set up a candelit dinner for two in our gazebo for their 60+ wedding anniversary.

One of my parents snapped this picture then, and while I did not witness this moment in person, it made me remember all his other romantic gestures toward my grandma. Like quoting Shakespeare to her, out of the blue, as they sat in our lanai overlooking the garden, resting after a long afternoon of tending to their flowers and plants.

~

I remember, with the same clarity as the turquoise waters of Boracay, a shift in perspective.

Under other circumstances, work fills my mind majority of the time. And yes, you'll probably hate me for this but I did work a bit while I was away - I had to finish grading in India because we flew out the very next day after my last day of teaching. Then twice I had to wake up for 2 am conference calls for my new consulting job, to speak to people who did not know I was away and in a completely opposite time zone. But I did not work much else aside from that. It was refreshing to not have work occupy so much space in my brain, and instead linger at the breakfast table.

Work is a means to an end, not an end in itself.

I know, it's nothing groundbreaking. And while I always knew that, I felt it even more strongly with the limited time I had with my family. And what a blessing that was. Yes, working is what pays the bills and helps us travel, and we are absolutely thankful for that. But the bigger picture, really, is family...and old friends who are practically family. Nurturing those relationships that enrich our lives like nothing else does.

Not all my projects, each at a different stage toward completion. Not the fact that I need to get my manuscript published. They always say in the world of academia, "publish or perish". But in the bigger picture, it's really not the end of the world.

But my niece will only be 4 years old once. And I will only stand at this exact spot at this exact time on this exact date once in my life.

Boracay, Philippines

It is a gift.

~

*For a detailed review of the foodie experience in the Philippines, from the unique perspective of an Indian national-US citizen-current resident of Germany-honorary Filipina (whew!), visit my friend's blog post here.

*I also have India on my mind. But those stories will come in bits and pieces as well. More on that later.

*Tito = Uncle, Tita = Aunt

Manila (Philippines) on my mind

Aaaand we're back.

I have so much to write about, but my thoughts are still in random snippets of words and images. Images that may or may not have made it into my camera, but rather images stored in my mind. Sensations, emotions, and thoughts that are not quite coherent yet.

About how traveling reminds me just how startlingly beautiful this world is.

The colors of the sky viewed from the window of the airplane... God's brushstrokes on his infinite canvas.

The endless expanse of varying shades of blue, the perfection of sea meeting sky. The magic of a sandbar - a narrow strip of white sand which, for a few fleeting hours, felt like our own private island before it disappeared into the water.

The dewy scent of the lush tropical garden in my parents' home, the home where I grew up. If green had a scent, this would be it.

The almost intoxicating fragrance of a ripe Philippine mango, which I ate everyday like it was a gift.

The genuine embrace from the little arms of a 4-year-old.

The warmth of my mother's hands... though they look different, they feel exactly the same to me as they did 25 or 15 or 5 years ago.

Reuniting with childhood friends... picking up where we left off as though no time has passed. And noticing how we laugh just like our teenage selves did many years ago, but we speak with more wisdom and maturity.

The comforting feeling of HOME. Of FAMILY. Of shared meals, memories, and yes, dare I say even the notorious Manila traffic jam.

...Ok, maybe not the Manila traffic.

sandbar off the coast of Cebu | photo by my brother Carlo

I've still got sand in my shoes
And I can't shake the thought of you

- Dido

daydreaming

These will look like very unseasonable photos given the dark and dreary days this time of year in this part of the world, but I can't help but dream and think that this is where I will be a few weeks from now...

And I just need to get through this rough week. It's been quite the ordeal physically, mentally, emotionally. It's taking every ounce of willpower to focus and get my sh*t (choose your vowel) together** . I really need to concentrate on work for the next several days to be ready for this trip... and be ready to finally stop thinking of work. I've come to accept that I will need to work some while I'm away, but I'm looking forward to a few uninterrupted days to get off the grid (GASP) for a while, unwind, and re-connect with my family and childhood friends.

Soon I'll be home in this island paradise...  why have I been I away for so long again?

Image credit

Image credit

 

Image credit

**From one of my colleagues, a new professor at a university. She once joked that she wants to add the phrase "Get your sh*t together" to her email signature line. We all got a kick out of that idea. Only in theory, of course.

lavender honey dark chocolate

I have to admit that when the going gets tough, I reach for chocolate.

To my disappointment, I was out of my usual chocolate bar and was unable to go to the store to get another one. Usually when I am towards the end of one chocolate bar, there's an extra one in my kitchen somewhere... or even in my purse. I think a square or two of chocolate a day is perfectly reasonable, and it's such a treat after lunch or dinner. But there was none to be had.

So I went into my kitchen to look for chocolate, and then I found chocolate tableas from the Philippines that my mother sent me last year (these things last a pretty long time, kept in a cool dark place).

These chocolate tableas are deep, rich, and best of all, heartwarming. It's the kind that takes me back home, to childhood memories of my mother making this hot chocolate for the holidays. She would make it in a HUGE pot, enough to feed our big family and more -- for the guests, both expected and unexpected, but welcomed all the same. The scents would fill the kitchen and waft into the living room as we waited in anticipation for the chocolate to be ready. Memories of my family gathering around a candlelit table, each with a cup of hot chocolate (and some sweet, buttery, brioche-style rolls we call ensaimada, for dunking).

So making this chocolate here, is like a taste of home in a cup. At 11 pm, I decided to make some. The enjoyment is in the process of making it, as much as it is in savoring it. I think part of it has to do with the "slow-food" feel of preparing it. No microwaving here.

Sometimes I make it in the more traditional way, the way my mom makes it. Just the chocolate, melting in a pot with some water, until it's simmering. Make sure you stir fairly constantly, so the chocolate melts evenly and no chocolate get scorched in the bottom of the pan, which would be a tragedy in my world. A little milk --  or a lot, depending on how dark or how milky you want it (I prefer the former). And turbinado sugar, depending on whether the tableas are sweetened or unsweetened.

Or sometimes I make it with a little twist - in the winter I might make it Mexican style with a little cinnamon and cayenne. But this spring, I wanted the flavors of lavender and honey.

I had this bottle of lavender honey which I bought in a cozy local store in Asheville last spring. I'm quite proud that I've been able to ration it. One year later, and I still haven't consumed the entire bottle. I have about a quarter of it left, and I wish I had gotten two bottles.

Lavender honey. There's just nothing like it. The subtle flowery lavender notes in sweet, fragrant honey. It's nature's magic.

So I melted 6 chocolate tableas (might as well make enough to last the week, right?) in a little water, in a heavy-bottomed sauce pan (or you could use a double boiler) over low heat. Once all the chocolate was melted and the mixture was simmering, I added some plain almond milk, about a cup or so. I let it cook until it was heated through, then added a few tablespoonfuls of this lavender honey.

I enjoyed it in a little cup, letting the heat of the cup warm my palms as I placed my hands around it. And believe me, this is rich, and a little teacup's worth of hot chocolate is probably enough. No supersized mugs here. It's something that's meant to be sipped and enjoyed slowly.

Hot chocolate from the Philippines, 
with lavender honey from North Carolina, 

served in a Turkish cup and saucer, 
enjoyed in Northern Ohio,
thinking of family and memories from half a world away. :)

happy Monday

I just received an email this morning from this Filipino food blogger, telling me that I am the winner of his chocolate giveaway contest!

So I await 2 bars of chocolate (sourced from the Philippines... YEAH!) in the mail. One regular dark chocolate bar and one dark chocolate bar with fleur de sel. I love fleur de sel in chocolate... the sweet-salty combination just hits the spot.

The stars must have been aligned just right...

And another freebie... the yoga instructor at our student rec center gave us each a pass for ONE FREE WEEK OF YOGA at this studio! She actually gave it to us some weeks ago, and unfortunately I thought I misplaced it in between my stacks of books and papers... and then yesterday it turned up. What a perfect week for me to find it... because this week is crunch time in the semester.

Hopefully I'll breeze through the week with lots of stretches, deep breaths, and OM's.

It's a great Monday already... have a great week!

a real-life love story... and perhaps the best ever.

Happy Anniversary to my Mom and Dad!

my parents in Bohol, Philippines

November, 1970. My parents meet at a mutual friend's party. There was a power outage, but that didn't stop the sparks from flying... perhaps the darkness made the sparks even brighter.

February, 1971. My dad proposes to my mom. Mom accepts.

May 1, 1971. Wedding bells and I-do's.

May 1, 2010... 39 years and going strong... and honeymooning at every opportunity.
 
Through a daughter's eyes, your lives have been about giving. Of each other, and to teach other. To us, your children... and to others, family or not. And for that I am inspired, and of course, truly grateful. You truly have set the bar.

Much love to you, Mom and Dad.

(Photo shared by my Dad)

work/life balance

I had a recent conversation with a friend of mine who just went back to the Philippines for a 2-week visit. Now this friend is a highly intelligent, high-achieving, yet personable and fun-loving person. If there's someone you want who can get the job done (and more), she's your go-to gal. This girl can really WORK.

She talked about how laid-back the culture is back home. How our people know how to have fun (heck, we are the nation whose people can sing and dance at a citizen-organized revolution to impeach a president).

This is what I love about our culture. People know that family comes first. Work can be left in the office. After that, time is spent with family and friends. It's about family and relationships. After leaving the workplace, time is spent relaxing, doing leisure activities, whether at home or elsewhere.

But perhaps my view of life in my home country is skewed now. My parents are retired and enjoying life to the fullest, travelling like crazy, exercising, taking naps, and most of all, taking care of themselves. So I know my parents, by virtue of the life stage they are in, are not "representative" of the average person living there. But even people my age back home, who are building careers, seem to know the meaning of leisure and rest. And know where to draw the line between work and personal time.

In my conversation with that friend of mine, we realized how different life is here. I've lived here for almost 7 years, she for longer than that. We talked about how our work becomes our life. And no wonder we're under stress. "Duh". It's not rocket science.

How do we value our work? Work can be "just" work, or work can be a passion. Whether it's teaching children, balancing accounts, designing a product, or whatever it is you are committed to. When we love what we do, we pour all our energy into it. But ideally, we also have to allow ourselves to rest, so that we can greet the next day and continue our work with renewed energy. We owe that to our work, but more importantly, we owe that to ourselves. The fact that I say ideally is ironic, because shouldn't periods of rest be a given and not an ideal? But in this current economy, for many people it's not enough to just call it a day at 5 pm.

Is work a means to an end or an end in itself? We say we work the way we do to improve our quality of life.  And by quality of life, I mean work-life balance... I mean physical, mental, social, and emotional health. Does working the way we do increase the chances of having a better quality of life? What does it mean to have a strong work ethic AND work-life balance at the same time?

I'll have to ponder on those thoughts for a while. In the meantime, I'm going to take a break, take deep breaths, and practice some downward dogs and child's pose.

Then I'll have to get back to work.

phenomenal women

I've hit a dry writing spell the past couple of weeks (as you can tell from my last entry, "thinking in pictures").

So I guess this is a very delayed Mother's Day entry.

I've been thinking a lot about my 95-year-old grandmother in the Philippines. Her injury, and her resulting weakness. Her hospital stay. She now has a tube for feeding...which really sounds much worse than it is, but we all think it will help. Now she is back home, and smiling, responding, and talking again. She is still tiny and frail as she has always been, but my parents think she will bounce right back when she gets the nutrients she needs.

Amazing.

My grandmother has such a calm approach to life. "Whatever will be, will be" is probably her mantra. She takes things as they come.

I've been thinking about all the women in my family. My mother, my grandmother, my great-aunts. All phenomenal women. My own family's "Steel Magnolias."

Afternoon tea with Mom
photo taken July 2008, Columbus

My mother... a petite powerhouse who's larger than life. Strong, fiercely independent, yet nurturing. She weathers any storm with so much grace and faith. She's a friend I can talk to for hours, whether face to face over tea or coffee, or through this amazing PC-to-phone technology (for which we are thankful..we just deal with the 12 hour time zone difference). She's everyone's friend, everyone's mom.

photo taken July 2008, Krohn Conservatory

My grandmother... who used to tell the the best stories. Like the courtship between herself and my grandfather. Her brave encounters with the Japanese during World War II. How she cared for a large extended family with so little. How she always made sure everyone else had plenty and would insist at least 3 times that you have another helping of her delicious treats. My grandma, who at 94 traveled to Hong Kong, Macau, Singapore, and the United States. And she said she wanted to go to Rome next.

photo taken by Dad, December 2008
Boracay Island, Philippines

My great-aunt Tita Vely, who I haven't seen in a few years, and who has recently become my honest-to-goodness "pen pal". I was pleasantly surprised to receive a handwritten letter in the mail from her a few weeks ago (I just love snail mail.). I wrote her back, longhand, 3 pages long. I told my mother about it and she said that Tita Vely always gushed about my "adventures" here when they talked. My mother says that Tita Vely has always had an adventurous side, which is probably why she was so happy to hear about my life here. She's beautiful and feisty, and she reminds me of Katherine Hepburn.

Then there's Tita Aida, another great-aunt. She always told the funniest stories during family gatherings on lazy Sunday afternoons. Her jokes always made me laugh so hard I'd start crying.

And my grandmother on my dad's side, who passed away last year. She raised my dad pretty much on her own when my grandfather died in the war when my father was a baby. She always came to the rescue when my brothers and I were sick, with her magical herbal brew.

And there are other strong, independent women in my family. I'll be turning 30 tomorrow and with that comes some reflection on what my life has been and where I am headed. With this gene pool I'm hoping to "grow up" to be like them. Or to have little pieces of all of them in me.

To the mothers (and other women) in my family - here's to you. To your strength, grace, and inner beauty.