It Just Takes a Little Seoul: Spicy Shrimp Salad Sammy with Kimchi Mayo, Avocado, and Radish Sprouts

Hello, everyone! Yes, I'm back in the Toy Kitchen. And no, I didn't get eaten by a lion in Africa but thanks so much for asking, especially those of you who e-mailed me to make sure. It has just been such a crazy busy couple of months what with launching the RGTK product line, making the RGTK product line, selling the RGTK product line, delivering the RGTK product line...well, you get the picture.

Me, shilling RGTK on ANC Shop Talk (my segment starts at 30:15)

My former life in the corporate world feels like two centuries instead of just two months ago. Now, instead of business casual and heels (no sleeveless tops or open-toed sandals, please) my new dress code consists mostly of yoga pants, colorful jammies and flip-flops. So, no, I don't actually get this dressed up to cook when I'm alone. 

My actual work duds. And it's not even Casual Friday.

I'm cooking nearly every day, and my place is packed with boxes, bottles and sacks of onions and garlic. Not only does this make entertaining a near impossibility, but these days, I jump at any chance to put on shoes, go to a restaurant and taste food that I haven't had to cook, bottle and slap an RGTK label on. I'm also desperately eager for any kind of conversation that doesn't include bottles, ingredients, delivery details and meowing.

Despite all the adjustments, though (Dear steady paycheck, I miss you most of all. xoxo J), I am having the time of my life. Yes, I've been known to occasionally succumb to moments of panic, maybe grab a cat or two, and tearfully tell them not to get eaten by squirrels when I have to throw them out on the streets (They're sissies). But when I'm not obsessing too much about the future, when I remember to live in the moment, then the moments are actually pretty damned awesome.

Getting Jiggy with Mark Bittman: West Indian Crispy Pork Bits

Ever have those days (weeks, months) where everything and everyone just seems particularly difficult? It's times like those when you really appreciate the beauty of a ridiculously easy recipe like this one that just so happens to produce some genuinely delicious comfort food. The catch, however, is that it does require some advance preparation. But they say good things come to those who wait, and this dish is indeed, in the words of Martha Stewart, a very good thing.

This recipe is from Mark Bittman's How To Cook Everything, which is guaranteed to coax even the most fearful novice cooks into the kitchen. The recipes are easy enough to make you go, "Hey, even I can do that!" and before you know it, you are.

Then, bolstered by your success, you become increasingly confident, start experimenting with your own flavor profiles and before you know it, you've got your own cooking show. In your head. Or, you give up your day job and hawk your own product line.  Yo, Mark Bittman, thank you! You'll either get royalties or me showing up on your doorstep, suitcase and hungry cats in tow.

Keep It Real: Spaghetti Squash in Pesto Cream with Pan-Fried Scallops

As a rule, fakes suck. Fake labels? Tacky. Faking a love for sports, opera or books to impress? Even tackier. And sucking up to further a secret agenda? Well, that's just sad. It's also exhausting. Seems to me that it would be easier to just be who we are. Besides, we'd be so much more fabulous at being ourselves than trying to be a pale imitation of someone else.

The same applies to food. My unfortunate addiction to diet soda notwithstanding, I think fake and wannabe foods generally suck and should be avoided. I' like yoghurt but not when it tries to pass itself off as ice cream.  Fat-free cheese is an abomination. And don't even get me started on vegetarian restaurants that feature entrees in quotes, e.g.,"beef" stroganoff or "chicken" a la king.

Spaghetti squash, however, is a notable exception. This poor misunderstood squash never claimed to be pasta. It's not its fault that its insides just happen to scrape up into luscious, spaghetti-like strands that clock in at roughly a fifth of the calories of regular pasta.

Spaghetti squash is what it is and is perfectly happy to be what it is. And having never seen one in Manila before, I was perfectly happy to take one home when I spotted it at Metro Supermarket.

Announcements and Pronouncements

Chili, pumpkin soup, pesto and eggplant dip: "Please take us home. We promise to be very, very good!"

The day I announced my very first giveaway on this blog, I had also drafted my resignation letter and made a phone appointment with my boss in Hong Kong.

Starting a prepared food business had always been a long-time dream, and after a (mostly) wonderful 6-year ride at my current corporate gig, I was finally committing to doing it.

Imagine, therefore, my sheer terror when hours after I had posted my exciting giveaway, there were no takers. Zero. Zilch. Nada. Itlog (the Filipino word for egg, local slang for zero, in case you hadn't figured it out).

I began hyperventilating. What was I, nuts? How could I possibly think I could make a living selling food, giving up the security of a corporate job and a regular paycheck when I couldn't even GIVE my chili away?

"You're gonna starve," I said tearfully to the Destructo-Cats, who just looked at me, seemingly unmoved. "You're no match for those feral street cats. Hell, you're no match for those street rats. You wouldn't last five minutes out there."

The Curse of the Great Pumpkin (and a Giveaway)

"I WANT RESTITUTION!!!"

I was a man (not really) with a plan (yes, really). I had a bunch of orders for chili, soup and lots of other good stuff  and was determined to get everything done today.

The chili-making went smoothly. My pumpkin soup, however, was a completely different matter. It seemed so promising in the beginning, every step going exactly as planned. I mean, come on. I've only made this dish a few hundred times before.

But you know how some princes turn into pumpkins? Well, this pumpkin turned into a little punk. After pureeing my lovingly sautéed and roasted vegetable mixture together with my simmered-for-hours homemade chicken stock, I tasted the mixture. Hmmm. Bland.

I hadn't really added any other bells and whistles yet other than salt and pepper, so I shrugged it off and added my spices.  Still off. Way off.

Salad Days: Ginger-Miso Dressing

Roasted red pepper and yoghurt dip, hummus and toasted whole-wheat pitas brushed with olive oil and za'atar.

Saturday was nuts. A gazillion errands to run, and then an emergency trip to the supermarket when my organic poultry delivery unexpectedly took a detour (ETA, next Wednesday). I was having friends over for dinner that night and had an ambitious menu planned, so I'll cop to a moment (or two hundred) of panic. Tight schedule notwithstanding, however, it was gratifying to realize how much easier it was getting to execute my usual overly ambitious dinner party menus. 

Cut to 7:30 p.m. A gaggle of middle-aged women in their prime knock on my door, looking and sounding more like a bunch of schoolgirls at a One Direction concert than the cool and composed wives, mothers, entrepreneurs and career women that we claimed to be actually were.