Eating Beyond My Means

I don't eat too much, but I certainly eat very interestingly. So interestingly, in fact, that I pay good money flying to places that serve authentic versions of bahn cuon, felafels, sheep testicles, and macarons.

The travel cliches of seeing new places and meeting new people are secondary to eating new food, whether I'm in a coastal city on the Mediterranean or deep into Borneo. Sure it's nice seeing a bull fight in Madrid, but teetering on a tall wooden stool with a glass of cheap rioja on one hand and guindilla tapa on the other—in a bar so local no one speaks English—is priceless.

The happiest moments in my life always involve food. When I envision what I think might be blissful moments—such as reaching the top of Asia's highest summit—there's always food in the picture. In this case, I will be watching the sun slowly rise over Kinabalu, sipping hot chocolate in the company friends who (like me) are stupid enough to try this test of cardiovascular endurance. When I dream about Morocco, I don't see myself shopping in the souks or riding camels. I would like to (a) eat in the souk and (b) eat the camel. I jest, but you know what I mean.

Food is the reason I run. I keep saying that I love running, but I'm just deluding myself. What I really love is eating, and in order to eat all I want without gaining the amount of weight that would render my current wardrobe unusable, I have to run. My heart rate has to go up and burn all the flavourful fat and wine I so lovingly ingest.

This means I need to clock in more miles in the next few weeks leading up to my trip to two countries. Cheap, freshly baked French baguettes and real phad thai from the street vendors await. None of the hilarious pineapple curries, please. I only eat authentic.

CBTL Coffee Maker VS. Old School Coffee Press

I am opposed to almost everything except (a) old world wine and (b) good furniture. I detest things that pretend to be anything more than the useless garbage they really are.

Case in point - this lazy and moronic CBTL single serve beverage system.

This contraption does to coffee what boxes do to wine. It cheapens the experience and removes everything that is romantic about preparing and enjoying a cup.

That said, it is a brilliant addition to the millions of products that feed endless cycle of consumerism. To keep using it, you need to keep buying  the 'beverage capsule' at P40 a pop. It won't work with any other.

Who buys this shit?

More importantly, whatever happened to simply having a good old cup of unpretentious Batangas coffee?

The Philippines has some of the best - if not the best - robustas in the world. We are so lucky to have easy and cheap access to these beans. Sadly, many Filipinos don't know that and would rather drink watered down Italian coffee.

Me, I love my Barako and my simple hand-powered Kenya coffee press. It requires no electricity, and you can make everything with it, including espresso and latte.

This straightforward gadget is an integral part of the morning routine that keeps me sane. I boil water, pour it over the beans, wait four minutes, and enjoy my cup while reading the news online.

This slow and deliberate process is not something I am ready to give up, especially not for an awful looking 'beverage capsule' system that looks like a prop from a bad sci-fi movie.