Pan de Sal & Bagles

Here in New York, instead of the usual pan de sal, the usual breakfast fare is a bagel (in a variety of “flavors”), served with your choice of butter or cream cheese.  My personal choice is a raisin bagel (which is baked with a hint of cinnamon) with butter.  I must be one of a weird few who microwave their bagels (instead of toasting them) so the butter can melt into the bread. 

We have pan de sal here in New York courtesy of some bakeries in New Jersey, and the preferred variety is more like the Baliuag pan de sal variety (yellowish in color and slightly sweet).  Iba pa din ang pan de sal galing sa atin.

I remember when we used to get them straight from the bakery at midnight or early during the day.  They were still hot and we didn’t have to toast them again or heat them up.  The butter melted on the bread as soon as you put it there.  Mommy Celia and I were telling my Mom over the weekend that despite the fact that we have Filipino restaurants around, it doesn’t taste as good as the dishes from back home because sometimes, there are substitutions due to the unavailability of the original ingredients.

I’d have pan de sal anyday, but I want the ones from back home.


The Weekend Passed

I went into the weekend with high hopes of accomplishing much in terms of crafting.  (I did download a pattern for a winter cap) and doing some preliminary work on learning to speak French.  Here I am with the weekend ended, with neither objective achieved.  The weekend isn’t completely lost actually.  I managed to beign posting in my pinayfrancophile blog and I managed to upload quite a number of photos to the album, as well as “migrate” my franco-related posts in this blog to that one.

I spent a lot of time with Angel as always, who seems more clingy to mommy as his awareness of the world around him grows.

This morning, he wouldn’t stay put in his playpen.  I had to carry him on my lap as I ate breakfast by the kitchen counter.  I didn’t really mind.  He seemed to enjoy just being with mom.  I let him smell my coffee in the mornings — something he seems to like.  He eventually let me put him down on his play pen afterward.

I am looking at eventually letting him sleep in his crib which we will put beside our bed, but I think father and son plan to continue to sleep beside each other longer than I plan to have them.

Watching him grow before my very eyes is just amazing.  I can’t believe that this time last year, he was inside my belly, kicking, pushing and just throbbing with life.  Now he laughs at me, blinks his eyes playing cute to entice me to pick him up, and we even sing together.  In a few weeks, he turns a year old. 

I begin my day looking forward to being home with him again.  I have a portfolio of his pictures in my phone which I browse several times during the course of day until I hold him in my arms again.