High tea

This week, the awesome people at the newly opened Raffles Hotel in Manila invited a few members of the book club for an afternoon of high tea. My goodness, they were very gracious hosts indeed!

The original Raffles Hotel in Singapore had a reputation for having been a favorite of such writers such as Ernest Hemingway, W. Somerset Maugham, and Rudyard Kipling. Raffles Manila would like to continue this long history of supporting writers and readers, so they're exploring the possibility of touching base with a book club.

Being a tea drinker myself, I've had high tea a couple of times, but I never knew that this afternoon tradition involves 3 courses! Oy, I die!

The first course: savory sandwiches
Cucumber, ham and cream cheese, pastrami, egg salad, and smoked salmon

The second course: scones
My favorite scone was the chocolate chip variety
Clotted cream so thick you can eat it like ice cream
and strawberry jam

The third course: sweets
Macarons, dark chocolate cake, eclairs, fruit tarts
The mini key lime pie was divine.

I would just have to say that Monique, the marketing communications manager, is a true bibliophile. She talked about Ian McEwan, Salman Rushdie, and David Mitchell. Of course, we just have to introduce her to Jose Saramago. Bianca, one of the marketing staff, is a Harry Potter and Chuck Palahniuk fan. It's so wonderful to meet fellow bibliophiles, yes?

The Writers' Bar at Raffles is an ideal place for reading, I think. They have high bookshelves filled with books. Too bad I wasn't able to take pictures.

I do hope that we can hold one of the book club's discussions over at the Writers' Bar at Raffles, or at least their long bar, where they encourage customers to throw their peanut shells on the floor. I'm thinking period dramas! Or elaborate costumes! Or ladies in flouncy dresses! Or rugged gentlemen like Papa Hemingway! Oh, the possibilities!

I'll eat anything

I have no food allergies whatsoever. Give me your raw oysters, your most bitter herbs, your deep-fried insects, your steamed fish lips. I'll happily devour them. Like my good friend, Iya, mentioned this weekend, "I'll eat anything twice." That's why I have a special affinity for Jeffrey Steingarten, the resident food critic at Vogue magazine.

Steingarten's first collection of essays, The Man Who Ate Everything, was a joy to read. Rather than the essays being write-ups on restaurants, Steingarten's short nonfiction pieces range from the simple concept of bread to the intricacies of searching for truffles in France. His second collection of essays, It Must've Been Something I Ate, while having somewhat lost the novelty of his first collection, is still good reading for anyone who is serious about his or her food.

I'm sure that Steingarten enjoys the perks of having a Vogue employee ID. It's very much evident in It Must've Been Something I Ate. He can get into those posh restaurants without a reservation. He receives expensive kitchen gadgets as gifts. He can fly to France at a drop of a hat to serve as judge in the annual best croissant competition. His charmed gustatory life is crystal clear in his essays.

A lot of people would feel that Steingarten's nonfiction book scores low on the relatability factor, especially for readers beyond his first world existence. But we should bear in mind that he wrote these pieces for Vogue, the same people who have the cash to burn on an expensive handbag or a tasting menu in one of Thomas Keller's restaurants. I wasn't bothered by this observation at all. In fact, because of the high-brow feel of the essays, I felt that his life, or his job in that magazine at least, was something that I could aspire to. I wouldn't mind eating in the world's finest restaurants and being paid to write about my dining experience.

It Must've Been Something I Ate was the book of the month for the book club. Considering that I read it almost 10 years ago (it was published 2002), I decided to reread it. I would've wished that the moderator, Joko, chose The Man Who Ate Everything (published in 1999), as I found the essays here more food related. After rereading IMBSIA, I was surprised to find myself still amused by Steingarten's humorous turns of phrase and his meticulous attention to detail. Here's a man who would go to great lengths just to find the recipe for the perfect potato gratin. I can't imagine myself spending hours and hours in the kitchen. Heck, I can overcook instant noodles.

I really was looking forward to this month's discussion. Two of my great loves, as I mentioned in an earlier post, are books and food. Combine these two together, and you'd notice that I can get carried away talking about them. Just look at the photos below to see what I mean. Oy, I go overboard, really.

Photo courtesy of R

Yes, I've grown a moustache. Somehow, it gives me the license to be overly dramatic with my expressions and hand gestures. Aside from the mo, I've also done something new: I signed up for Italian classes. I've always wanted to learn the language, and last Saturday was our first meeting. It felt good to be in an actual classroom again, with a pen and a notebook on my desk. Molto bene!

Books on food

This month, the book club is going to discuss a book about food, specifically, Jeffrey Steingarten's essays on food collected in It Must've Been Something I Ate. If you're in Manila and you find yourself free on the afternoon of September 29, do join us.

I remember reading Steingarten's nonfiction works about food almost 10 years ago, and I recall that I enjoyed reading both books. So I scoured my shelves to find these titles, which are now yellowing but still in good condition.

I know I had to reread It Must've Been Something I Ate in its entirety, but I can't help but read some of the essays in The Man Who Ate Everything, which is the earlier book and which I find the better between the two. My thoughts on IMBSIA will be posted next week after the discussion.

My shelves are no stranger to books about food: be they about specific food, memoirs by chefs and wait staff which are very interesting to read by the way, and culinary history, to name a few. Recently, I bought Gabrielle Hamilton's Blood, Bones & Butter, which is turning out to be a very endearing memoir.

But what I'm really digging is Adam Gopnik's nonfiction work entitled The Table Comes First. Gopnik wrote one of the most memorable memoirs that I've read (Paris to the Moon), wherein he chronicled the time when he and his temporarily lived in Paris. In The Table Comes First, he focuses on Paris again and how this city has influenced our sense of food enjoyment. It's quite fascinating, I tell you.

I don't have cookbooks on my shelf, as I don't cook myself. Heck, I can't even make a decent toast. But books and food are two of my great loves. So what better way to celebrate this love than to read books about food, yes? Bring on the bacon!

Yes, you can eat your books now too

Last month, I was invited to the surprise birthday party for a good friend, Iya. Of course, being prepared for the occasion, I came with an empty stomach. Aside from the sumptuous buffet laid out for us, look what they've come up with -- a birthday cake with edible books!


And it wasn't just the cake that was bookish. Iya's husband and friends also had these bite-sized chocolates with book covers on top as giveaways! I thought that these were just plain milk chocolates, but inside the chocolate coat were truffles!




Ah, dear reader, the chocolates were heavenly! Pure bliss in every bite! Each guest was allowed to get one piece, but I think I got 7! (I hope no one noticed during the party.)

I was also born round

For many years, I was a human yo-yo. I had several fat phases and then relatively slim phases. Now, since I turned 30 more than 5 years ago, my body thinks that there's nowhere to go but up (and down and sideways). My current weight is the heaviest I've experienced. No worries though. I know I'm in good company. Frank Bruni, the ex-restaurant critic of The New York Times, also had the same problem.

In Born Round, Bruni's very readable memoir, the critic chronicles his life from his toddler years to the time that he had the best job in the world (i.e., dining in 5-star restaurants and then writing all about his gustatory experiences). Born Round is one enjoyable read. It doesn't come off as a memoir that takes itself too seriously. In fact, the breezy pacing of the book has the atmosphere of fiction.

Bruni states that he was born round, which is true, judging from the pictures in the book. You could see that, despite being the middle child, he appears to be the eldest because of his girth. One funny bit is when he mentions that he usually barfed food when he was still a toddler just to make room for more food. This particular period would foreshadow what would happen during his college years, a period when he was bulimic.

Bruni's Born Round is painfully honest. When he writes about how he gorges on buffets and family reunions, somehow I can relate to him. It's hard to say no when you're presented with so many options, yes? There's always the "just one more bite" mentality. And it didn't help that Bruni came from a family with Italian roots, a family that used food to display their wealth and show hospitality.

Born Round tells significant events that happen in each stage of Bruni's life. During middle school, Bruni became a champion swimmer, even though he didn't have a swimmer's body. He writes about his experiments with different kinds of diet, most of these under the guidance of his mom. The part when he and his mom were on Atkins is one of the most poignant in the book. In college, he was bulimic and tried different drugs just to keep his weight in check. After graduating from college, he took on several journalism jobs, which included being part of the press corps of President Bush and being nominated for a Pulitzer. Everything is captured in wonderful detail.

But the highlight of his career was when he joined The New York Times as a reporter. He didn't start as a restaurant critic though, far from it. His first major stint was when he was assigned as the Times correspondent in Rome, writing about affairs of the Vatican, which usually had no significant value. But it is in Rome that he was exposed to eating in different establishments and then earning a reputation of being someone who's in the know as to the best dining places in Italy.

So when the people at the Dining section of the Times called him up, he accepted and then moved to New York. I never knew that being a restaurant critic was hard work, but it is, almost terribly so. Bruni had to invent different names and then come up with disguises just so that he can dine anonymously and not be given preferential treatment in these restaurants. He writes that he often eats out 5 to 7 days a week and sometimes has 2 dinners in one night, just to make sure that he visits restaurants at least 3 times to write a good review.

For every visit to a restaurant I used a fake name and typically reserved a table for four. I needed three companions to order different dishes and help me cover as much of the restaurant's menu as possible. If I was making my first visit, I usually laid down only one rule for my tablemates: no duplicate orders. Four different appetizers. Four different entrees. Four different desserts. If I was making my second or third visit, I'd call our the dishes that had been previously tried and shouldn't be ordered this time around. [page 289]

His attempts at varied diets, his period of bulimia, his on-off discipline when it comes to working out, and his taking of drugs (e.g., speed) all contributed to his weight fluctuating until his late 30s. Unfortuntately, when he was offered the critic position, he was in his best of health: he was working out and thus had a leaner body, he was eating healthily, and he had a healthy romantic relationship with his partner. I understand the dilemma. Would you sacrifice all your hard work just to take on a job that would require you to eat for a living?

Born Round is one of the most touching memoirs that I've read. It offered me a glimpse of someone who had the same problems that I did. Except for his stint as a restaurant critic, one would be tempted to say that Bruni's life has been unremarkable up to that point. But I think not. Bruni's style of writing makes you live in the moment; I often pictured myself present in those family dinners that he writes about. When he describes his separation from a lover, I felt truly sad. And I reveled and cheered for him in his triumphs. Born Round, like the best memoirs, made me feel empathy.

My icons: Bruni and Martha Stewart

Read this book if:

1. You've always dreamed of becoming a restaurant critic.
2. You were, like Frank and me, born round.
3. You've constantly struggled with your weight.

Would you be having the specials, today?

For an amateur foodie such as myself, I look forward to reading about restaurants, seventeen-course meals, foie gras, leather-bound wine lists, and Valrhona chocolates. Phoebe Damrosch's memoir, entitled Service Included, about her days as captain of the service crew of Per Se, therefore, was a natural reading choice. I've always been curious about this restaurant; Per Se has been touted as one of the world's best restaurants, earning 4 stars in the New York Times restaurant reviews and 3 stars in the Michelin guide.

Just look at the interior of Per Se. The muted colors and the elegantly simple designs are actually conscious decisions. Thomas Keller, the renowned chef who owns Per Se, wanted an eating establishment where diners focus on the food and not the ambience. There's even none of those annoying pipe-in music. (Somehow, I can't imagine myself eating my light-as-a-feather omelet with truffles while Barry Manilow sings "Mandy" in the background.)


And who wouldn't crave those salmon cornets, which Per Se is most famous for. The cornets are scoops of salmon tartare with chives resting on each cone. The cones are then filled with a red onion crème fraîche. Truly bite-sized pieces of heaven in savory, light pastry.


Anyway, enough about the food and on to the book review. (Notice how I get carried away when I write about food?) Service Included is one wonderfully written memoir. We all know that being part of the service crew isn't at all glamorous. Damrosch goes beyond listing all those brutal truths about being a waiter in a restaurant as well known as Per Se.

In Service Included, Damrosch recounts her training from being a backserver to the only female captain in this restaurant. For those of you not in the know, like myself before I read this book, backservers are people who refill your water glasses, clear plates after every course, and replenish your bread basket. Captains are those who you talk to about the menu and the wine list. Apparently, being a captain is a big deal, as Damrosch recounts in her book. Ultimately, the experience of diners rests heavily on the attention of the captain, other than the food of course.

It's probably Damrosch's background (she has an M.F.A. from Sarah Lawrence) that makes the descriptions of working in a restaurant so vivid. Damrosch's attention to detail is so remarkable that you can't help but imagine yourself in Per Se and being served those delectable chef tasting menu that can last for more than 3 hours.

There are several funny moments in the book. At one time, the famed New York Times restaurant critic, Frank Bruni, drops by the restaurant and strikes a very lighthearted discussion with Damrosch about scrambled eggs. The discussion is particularly enlightening, as you would read how Per Se takes everything seriously, even in its scrambled eggs.

"You look perplexed, I (Damrosch) observed.

"I am. What makes these scrambled egs any different from my scrambled eggs? Why would a restaurant of this caliber serve a whole course revolving around eggs?"

I thought about this for a moment. He was right, really. I had never thought to question the custard course. Some of the more virtuosic egg preparations seemed more appropriate: the white truffle-infused custard served in an eggshell or the pickled hen egg with truffle filling made to look like a deviled egg and paired with a tiny truffle "Pop Tart." But a soft-boiled, scrambled, or coddled egg was simply an egg, no matter how much truffle coulis you added. [page 130]

Mouth-watering, isn't it? For the meantime, I had to content myself with our usual scrambled eggs at home, which has only two ingredients -- egg and salt.

Damrosch writes very interesting information about the restaurant business itself. I never knew that restaurant critics visit a new restaurant three or four times before they write their reviews. Waiters are given seminars on where their ingredients come from, how each dish is prepared, and what wine goes best with each dish. Service Included shows you that, in the end, running a restaurant is analogous to maintaining an art gallery, with the dishes as the artwork to be sold.

And the rules, oh my God, the rules. Damrosch lists very funny points that you should consider every time you eat out:

• Don't try to bribe the host. If there's no table, there's no table.
• Do not pick up your glass when a waiter or sommelier is about to pour something for you. It makes you seem greedy and oblivious.
• Your food is delivered to your table based on where you were sitting when we took your order. When you switch seats, it screws us all up.
• Please don't ask us for cigarettes.

Damrosch has decided to leave the restaurant industry and concentrate more on being a writer. I can't wait as to what kind of book she comes up with next. For now, let's just be content to see the menu at Per Se.


Read this book if:

1. You've been a waiter at one point in your life.
2. You like eating out.
3. You're unfazed when you read a menu in a foreign language.

Gimme good food

Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants. These three statements represent what Michael Pollan advises us to do in his latest book, In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto. Now why would a person tell us to "eat food" since haven't we all been eating this stuff since the day we were born? Pollan argues that what we've been eating lately couldn't be categorized a food. Edible stuff that contains unpronounceable ingredients, preservatives, and flavoring designed to imitate natural flavor can not be called food.

Just think about it. When was the last time you had a meal that did not have any artificial flavorings, had not undergone any processing whatsoever, and did not include refined flour, refined sugar, and high-fructose corn syrup? According to Pollan, these additives constitute what he calls the Western diet, a way of eating that has negative consequences on our health and the environment. Alarmingly, more and more people across the world are starting to follow this diet, foregoing their healthier traditional eating habits in favor of fast, high-calorie, and nutritionally deficient meals.

Pollan studies where have people, Americans in particular, have started to get it all wrong in terms of their diet. For a people who are obsessed with staying young and being healthy, Americans have high rates of heart diseases, diabetes, and obesity. If you stroll along the aisles of American supermarkets, labels scream "low fat," "cholesterol free," "fortified with vitamins and minerals," and "approved by the American Heart Association." So what exactly is the culprit to the increasing predisposition of people to chronic diseases? Pollan argues that it has something to do with the changes on how we look at the stuff we put in our mouths.

The culprit, according to Pollan, is nutritionism, an ideology wherein people pay more attention to the nutrients found in food than in the whole food itself. There's just too many things we don't know about the stuff that makes up food. Take, for instance, the whole brouhaha about fats. Before, margarine was promoted as a healthier alternative to butter because the fat in margarine comes from plants. But since plant fat is usually liquid at room temperature, people have hydrogenated the fat so that it becomes solid, resulting in margarine. But now we know that this hydrogenation process is so unhealthy because it converts plant fat to saturated fat.

In the early part of the 20th century, fat was deemed as the culprit. Lately, however, scientific studies have shown that fat, whether animal or plant fat, in diets does not equate to having heart diseases. In fact, scientists are slowly coming to accept the fact that they might have been wrong about fat in the first place. Humans are omnivores, and we're biologically programmed to consume fat. (Our cells have membranes with large fat components; cells in our brain are covered with fat.)

Perhaps it was wrong to reduce food into its component nutrients and study these separately. We can't just fortify foods with these nutrients because their effects vary when they're taken out of their natural source. It is this reason why supplements don't seem to have any effects. It is way better to get your dose of vitamin C by eating fruits and vegetables than taking a pill. There may be certain compounds in these natural food that allow our body to absorb and use vitamin C more efficiently.

We've become part of a culture that view eating as simply a necessity, not as an integral part of the day wherein we also get to catch up with our family and friends during dinnertime conversations. We take our lunches on our desks and while we're driving, as if eating has become a hindrance to our productivity at work. Food has become cheap that we consume large servings of it. All these must change, Pollan says. We have to remember the time when food was part of our culture, a celebration of the gustatory pleasures that food brings.

And why should we eat more plants? Because plants have a variety of nutrients that's good for us; it's as simple as that. They have loads of antioxidants, whose effects may not be as powerful if they're taken as supplements. In some cases, these antioxidants when taken in pill form, do more harm than good; they become oxidants. I'm reminded of my biology professor's argument in favor of going vegetarian. The lower you are in the food chain, the less food you have to consume to get all the nutrients and calories that you need.

In Defense of Food is an eye opener. It shows us that there's so much to find out about food and that what we do know about it is limited and, at times, can be so wrong. It will make you assess your eating habits and will provide suggestions on what you can do about these unhealthy habits practices.

Read this book if:

1. You're clueless about what you're putting in your mouth.
2. You want to know what's all the fuss about omega-3.
3. You want one good reason for liking butter.

Cooking and blogging about it

I must admit that, when I'm channel surfing, I end up watching cooking shows at the Food Network and the Asian Food Channel. These cooking shows are my brand of reality TV. Because of them, I now know more about escargots, pigs' brains, and fennel than I need to. Although, I believe that I'll never be able to test this theoretical knowledge in the kitchen, since the only time I go there is when I'm hungry and have to raid the fridge for some leftovers. At home, the kitchen is mom territory.

Perhaps it's the respect that I have for chefs and cooks that glues my eyes on the TV. I admire how they make elaborate recipes seem effortless. This respect and admiration also translates to books about cooking, eating, and anything that has to do with food. When I saw Julie Powell's memoir entitled Julie & Julia in Fully Booked the other week, I was intrigued by the premise. Julie Powell, who works as a secretary by day, decides to cook every single dish in Julia Child's bestselling cookbook, Mastering the Art of French Cooking Volume 1, for one whole year. Powell also decides to blog about it, after much prodding by her husband Paul. She eventually gives the whole endeavor a brand -- the Julie/Julia Project.

Powell is a first-time author, and it shows in this memoir. Most of the time, I end up re-reading certain passages just to get the idea right. Powell does have a gift for capturing vivid imagery, especially when she writes about her difficulties following Child's recipes to a T. When she recounts how difficult it is to obtain bone marrow in NYC, you empathize with her predicament. Other times though, she just rambles on.

I chilled it and served it the next night, in the coffee cups with the Raphael cherubs on them that we bought in a cheap souvenir shop outside the Sistine Chapel during our honeymoon, after a long, long walk, which we then used to drink wine with the cheese we had for lunch, on a green square, as we did every day during our honeymoon. And eating it that night reminded us that there was such a thing as fun, which was a good thing to remember right then.

And here's another reason why blurbs aren't to be trusted. Entertainment Weekly describes Julie & Julia as hilarious. I don't think it is. The attempts at humor feel somehow affected and generally fall flat. Powell does write about several self-deprecating instances which could've been funnier if these appeared in manageable doses throughout the book's 300 or so pages. As it is, Powell pokes fun at herself and at the disastrous results of her dishes so many times it just feels tiring.

(Also -- and I didn't mention this before because it's rather embarrassing -- but under my too-tight dress I was also wearing an extremely binding corset/girdle sort of thing. I had bought it in college for -- God, this part is really embarrassing -- a musical theater troupe I was in, because we were performing -- this is mortifying -- "Like a Virgin." ...Since the Project, though, I've been wearing it because it's the only way I can squeeze into a lot of my clothes.)

There are so many recipes in MtAoFC (I think there are more than 500 of them), so Powell focused on a few in her book. In these few occasions, you get a glimpse of how Child's recipes can be deceptively simple. Powell writes about how she's challenged by them and recounts the circumstances she's in as she's doing them. You get to know her close friends, her family who supports her throughout the project, and her job, which finds itself standing in the way of the Project.

If you're looking to be inspired to sample Child's recipes in MtAoFC, you may be better off buying Child's cookbook. Powell's descriptions of the dish she managed whip up tastes bland on the palate. Perhaps this may be the result of focusing too much on the complexity of the recipe rather than the final output itself. Nevertheless, what is enjoyable to read is when Powell relates all her cooking adventures into her personal life and the people around her.

My husband cooed as he dug into his plate of delicious flambeed crepes. If there's a sexier sound on this planet than the person you're in love with cooing over the crepes you made for him, I don't know what it is. And that blows Botox and ropy necks to hell.

The thread that connects Powell's narrative in Julie & Julia to Child's biography is thin. Powell just injects snippets of Child's personal history between chapters, and these biographical bits focus on a time when Child hasn't begun cooking yet. The technique works though, and it propels Powell's thesis to full effect -- one woman finishing a project based on another woman's work, who, in another time element, is just starting out her own.

Julie & Julia isn't really a food about the joys of eating or food. Powell's memoir touches on these superficially. Often, these simply serve as a backdrop to what's happening around her -- her ongoing attempt at having a baby, her relationship with her husband, her frustration with her dead-end job. Still, Julie & Julia is a good memoir, providing you with an honest glimpse of the unglamorous life of the memoirist. But if you're looking to read about food and the joys of eating, I suggest that you check out Jeffrey Steingarten's wonderful books The Man Who Ate Everything and It Must Have Been Something I Ate.

Read this book if:

1. You've always been fascinated by French cooking.
2. You love watching all those cooking shows.
3. You're a blogger and you're participating in challenges.
   

A rivalry to watch out for

A blogger's take on this effingly brilliant concept

Forget vampires vs. werewolves, Godzilla vs. Mothra, Montagues vs. Capulets, and men from Mars vs. women from Venus. Team Edward vs. Team Jacob? Please, that's no contest. I'll happily spoil it for you -- Bella marries Edward, boinks him, and begets a vampire-human mongrel.

All these classic and treasured rivalries don't stand up to the one featured in my most anticipated movie of all time: Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus. I just can't wait to experience all the layers of human and animal drama, existential angst, and profound character development when I finally see MS v. GO on DVD. And it stars Debbie Gibson, the 80s singer of "Electric Youth" fame. Check out the trailer here.

A mega shark, a giant octopus, and Debbie Gibson walk into a bar.

What is this -- a joke?

Would you like chili sauce with that?

I love sharks and octopi (octopuses?). I've eaten both. In the Philippines, squid balls and fish balls are popular street foods. No, we don't eat squid and fish testicles, although that's a wonderful thought. These balls are actually made of fish and squid meat rolled into bite-sized pieces.

Fish balls are actually made of shark meat, which gives a stronger fishy flavor. I'm not sure whether they use octopus instead of squid to make squid balls though. Nevertheless, octopus does taste like squid, and I bet people wouldn't throw away the occasional stray octopus if it could be used to make squid balls.

Slurped this, gobbled that

I turned 35 last month, and I realized that when you're in your mid-30s, you get to be more aware of the things that constitute your diet. Words like red meat, trans fat, white sugar and white bread, and even ice cream suddenly get bad connotations overnight. True, we all should be watching what we eat, but it becomes more important when your body slows down its metabolism and gets heavier more easily. It also doesn't help that I eat everything and I'm not allergic to any food group. Bring on the frogs' legs, the snails, and the crickets!

I've tried to make a few modifications on my diet, which can be challenging considering the culinary habits we have at home. My father's from Pampanga, a province where all the dishes are so decadent they seem like solid cholesterol in a plate. My mother and grandmother used to cook with pork fat, which we get when we make chicharon (pork cracklings). Since I don't want to give up on the things that I absolutely must have, I decided to make "healthier" substitutions for them. And it's this book, Eat This, Not That! that's proving to be quite invaluable.

First on my list is ice cream. I find myself craving ice cream after a meal that's a bit salty. The book recommends replacing ice cream with frozen yoghurt, which I can live with. I'm not at all familiar with the healthy benefits of eating yoghurt. Frozen yoghurt stands seem to be sprouting like mushrooms in the metro and a lot of my close friends swear by yoghurt, so I'm guessing it's a healthy alternative to ice cream. You might want to check the nutrition facts on that yoghurt; some don't have those live bacteria, which is the primary reason for eating it. If you can't stand the sour taste of yoghurt, you can always go for sherbets or sorbets according to the book. While sorbets may have sugar in them, they have none of the fat content found in ice creams.

Next on my list is white bread and everything else that is white. I just love white bread; I grew up having it for breakfast and snacks at school. I like the smooth, creamy texture of cakes and Krispy Kreme doughnuts -- all made with refined (white) flour and refined (white) sugar. The book suggests replacing these with whole wheat bread, which has more fiber and vitamins. One of the problems I have with whole wheat bread is texture; I find it too coarse on my tongue. And sometimes, they taste like cardboard -- not smooth and creamy at all. But I'm willing to make that sacrifice if it means I'll be able to live longer to read more books.

The authors of Eat This, Not That! write "I don't want you to read this book. I want you to USE it." Ummm, okay, but I can't imagine anyone bringing this book with them every time they order at McDonald's. Still, it packs a few surprises. For one, I was delighted to know that Krispy Kreme's original glazed doughnut has fewer calories than the same kind of doughnut from Dunkin' Donuts. Another, turkey burgers aren't necessarily healthy all the time, especially if they're fried and loaded with too much salt; you're probably better off eating a Big Mac. Salads, another of the supposed healthy food items on the menu, can be full of calories and sodium because of the dressing. And what's the best weapon you have against those sinful desserts? Ask for another spoon or fork, and share that banana split or that large slice of chocolate cake.

Eat This, Not That! isn't the type of book that you read from cover to cover. And, much as I hate to admit it, it's somewhat of a self-help book. Eat This, Not That! is so practical especially for those who haven't the time to go to the gym or simply don't want to. It also isn't afraid to list fastfood names and the calorie count of their menus. The book's a bit pricey at 900 pesos (about $25), but it becomes worth it if you want to do some minor lifestyle changes which do you good in the long run. The only problem I have with this book is that most of the alternatives are not available locally, which isn't the book's fault really.

Get this book if:

1. The difference between LDL and HDL is not clear to you.
2. You actually want to follow the food pyramid.
3. You love your body too much.

The Krispy Kreme burger: Would you even dare take a bite?

What's in our food?

Having read Joe Schwarcz's non-fiction book, An Apple a Day, I feel that I need to stock up on blueberries, tomatoes, corn, citrus fruits, and apples. No, these aren't the "wonder foods" we want to believe in; there's no such thing as wonder foods. These fruits and vegetables are simply good for the body.

An Apple a Day is a collection of essays divided into four sections: naturally occurring substances in food, food additives and manipulation, contaminants, and food hypes. Each essay is a stand-alone piece. You can skip essays and sections, choosing the ones that appeal to you and your diet. I think most of us would rather skip the part about food dyes and fluoride, but reading each essay would let you in on some of the amazing facts that goes on with our food, how our food is processed, and the additives in processed food such as sausages.

The first section on naturally occurring substances in food is the high point of An Apple a Day. Here we learn that an apple contains formaldehyde and a host of 300 other compounds. While formaldehyde can indeed be carcinogenic, Dr. Schwarcz constantly reminds the reader that the important thing about these substances is the dose. There's no such thing as a toxic chemical, only a toxic dose. Dr. Schwarcz also tells us that lycopene, a substance in tomatoes that is linked to a reduced risk for certain cancers, is actually more plentiful in cooked tomatoes than in raw ones.

The section on food supply manipulation is probably the weakest. It's clear that Dr. Schwarcz veers away from topics that he has no expertise on. Although, he does manage to make very engaging and interesting discussions on the merits of natural and artificial sweeteners. (There's nothing to be afraid of them.) And what's the difference between Coke Lite and Coke Zero? It's all about the sweeteners. Coke Lite is sweetened with aspartame, whereas Coke Zero by acesulfame. And unless you consume more than 20 cans a day of both, you need not worry.

Dr. Schwarcz doesn't take the pleasure away from eating our favorite dishes. In fact, he also extends this leniency toward food additives, food dyes, and food processing, just as long as we don't make a habit of eating red meat, barbecuing, frying all the time. Nevertheless, the author warns about consuming foods laden with trans fat and being gullible to hype such as the goji juice and detox. Goji juice, detox, and alkaline diets, just to name a few, simply have no redeeming health value.

The author's inevitable conclusion comes off as a bit of an anti-climax. Perhaps because we've heard all of these points before. The real gem is the essays themselves, and all the wonderful information we learn from them. In the end though, Dr. Schwarcz makes a few interesting conclusions:

• Start most days with oats, flax, and berries. Blueberry pancakes and blueberry muffins don't count.
• No need to be horrified with eggs: even five a week are unlikely to have an effect on blood cholesterol.
• Look for variety in your fruits and vegetables: the more colorful, the better.
• Eat fish a couple of times a week. Women of child-bearing age and young children need to limit their intake of swordfish and frozen or fresh tuna, which are known to be high in mercury.
• Aim for eight to ten servings a day for fruits and vegetables. Wash them well. Don't fret whether the've been organically grown or not.