Signs of Love

Last Sunday, MyGirl reminded me that 30 April was coming up.

I had a light bulb moment for a gift for Mother.. 

Get all the grandchildren to sign HAPPY BIRTHDAY.

The pictures could be collated as a greeting for Mother.

I sent out the suggestion to the siblings.

By Monday, Mindy sent this initial collation via email 

and the message was entitled "Missing H's" 

because GI and one of his cousins had not yet given in their pictures.

By sheer coincidence, both of them were assigned the letter H.

MyGirl took several photos of GI on Wednesday and sent them to me via FB messenger.

I wanted to submit GI's picture ASAP that I just hit FORWARD to our FB family group where I knew Mindy would be able to grab the photo. I actually sent several GI photos with matching captions because they were too cute not to share.

It wasn't until the next morning when London Eye sent a message asking whether Mother accessed FB messenger that I realised I might have spoiled a perfectly good surprise.

On Thursday, Sunshine sent through the last missing grandchild H photo along with two photos of herself making what looked to me as the PEACE sign.  Her message was "Are we good now?"

On Saturday morning, MyGirl said she had something to give me. She came up to me, showed me the below picture and said, "Advanced Happy Birthday Mom!"

I was blown away!
The siblings had taken the HAPPY BIRTHDAY message a step further and added  WE LOVE YOU.

Yes, they had been plotting behind my back so I could also have a surprise.

 I should have suspected something was amiss when Sunshine sent more than her son's H photo.  All the while I thought the "Are we good now?"  was because hers was the last letter needed for the HAPPY BIRTHDAY to be completed.   Apparently there was a bigger project underfoot.

MyGirl said her assignment was to take a picture of me that could be added to the existing collage.
At the onset, I was to make the exclamation point.
Thank goodness they settled for a heart.

Z presented Mother with the final printed version when they went out for lunch today.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Mother!

WE LOVE YOU!!!

Who Tells Your Story?

It started off with a bus ride, a headphone splitter and an offer to listen to music.

RD and I usually catch the bus together in the mornings he goes to school.  At times we are able to catch the bus together on our way home as well.  

Earlier this week, when RD and I were on the bus on the way home, he asked if I wanted to listen to Hamilton.  

"Sure," I said, without having a clue what Hamilton was.  Apparently Hamilton is a very (very) popular Broadway Musical about one of America's Founding Fathers, Alexander Hamilton.   

We listened to the first part of the musical until we arrived at our bus stop.  It was good.

The next time we were together on the bus going home, RD offered to share his music again. Naturally, I was keen on finding out what happened to Hamilton, so I brought out my splitter and he resumed our Hamilton playlist.  It was a long bus ride but apparently not long enough for us to finish all the songs.  The story and the songs were so captivating, I didn't really realise that the bus ride home took us longer than usual.

On Fridays, RD doesn't have classes.  However, he said he needed to go to school today so we rode the bus together.  He had mentioned he would be leaving the city early so we surely wouldn't be going home together so when he asked whether I wanted to listen to the continuation of Hamilton, I said yes.  

It ended in tears with the last song.

As I said, I had never heard of Hamilton before all this so I was not really prepared for the ending.  

We were at the Harbour Bridge when the last song played.  The words of the song Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story plus the fact that it was a Friday brought me to tears.  (Poor RD didn't really expect that reaction from me.  Heck, I didn't expect that reaction from me.)   

It was a good musical.  If ticket prices are reasonable, the next time Hamilton comes to Sydney, RD and I will seriously consider watching it.

I look forward to my next bus ride with RD.  I will be armed with my splitter and hopefully I won't be needing tissue paper.

[ELIZA] And when my time is up Have I done enough? Will they tell my story?

[COMPANY] Will they tell your story?

[ELIZA]
Oh, I can’t wait to see you againIt’s only a matter of—
[ELIZA AND COMPANY]
Time

[COMPANY] Will they tell your story? Who lives, who dies, who tells your story? Will they tell your story? Who lives, who dies—

[COMPANY] Time… Time… Time...

[FULL COMPANY]Who tells your story?

Don't Worry Pops, We're Almost There

We were really a long way from home that weekend a couple of weeks back.

It was the farthest south we've gone.

We had to travel back over 300 km.

We left the Botanical Garden after 10 am.

I decided to take pictures after we'd passed several distance markers.

Over 244 km from Sydney taken at 11:13 am.

There was a lot of trees on both sides of the road.

The skies were beautiful.

We saw a lot of animals along the way, too.

201 km from Sydney at 11:51 am.

I started sending the distance marker shots to the kids.

We headed for the Rainforest at Kiama but the GPS didn't really know where to go.

It literally told us that we were in the middle of nowhere.

91 km from Sydney @ 2:14 pm

I took this picture when we were about 10 minutes from home.
I was sure the kids would recognise the spot.
We got home before 4PM.

Ensaymada From Past to Present

I chanced upon a familiar brown spiral notebook while I was at home in Manila this January.  It was a notebook with recipes in my maternal grandmother's handwriting.  I took pictures of some recipes including this one for ensaymada.

From the looks of the recipes in the notebook, these were not my grandmother's tried and tested recipes.  I assume that the notebook contained recipes she had copied from various sources which she intended to try out.    Nonetheless, I was determined to try out her ensaymada recipe.  

At the onset, the fact that I did not have proper ensaymada moulds discouraged me.  However, at a certain point in time, I figured the moulds were just containers.  What mattered was the end product. On a whim, while MacGyver was away, I decided to try out the recipe using my regular muffin pans. 

When the time came to divide the dough, I reviewed the recipe to determine the yield but could not find how many ensaymadas the recipe expected to produce.  Given the size of the muffin pans, I decided to divide the dough into 24.

The recipe indicated bake at 400F for 15 minutes and that's what I did.  Clearly I have not had ensaymada in a long time.  It did not occur to me that 400F was pretty hot and that bread is usually baked at that temperature.  Bread is usually crusty on the outside whereas ensaymada is supposed to be soft.  When I pulled them out of the oven, I could already tell that they were not the ensaymada I was hoping for.

They tasted good but unless they were reheated in the microwave, they were rock hard!

I concluded that (1) the temperature was too high, (2) twenty-four pieces was too many and (3) I needed to check out more ensaymada recipes if I wanted to get soft and fluffy ensaymada.

The temperature and the number count are easily solved.  The additional recipe research turned out to be a nightmare.  My SIL was very supportive, sending me one recipe after another.  (She doesn't bake but she reads and knows the good places to eat.)  I thought that the eight eggs in this recipe was a lot but then I discovered that the other recipes required a dozen eggs or even up to 20 eggs.  In fact, one recipe called for a whopping 60 egg yolks (but that was for 3 kilos of flour).  It was then that I realised I was willing to stick with 8 eggs.  The only question would be when I would try the recipe again.

The answer came in stages.  First, I dropped by Vinnie's on a Saturday morning and found a Texan muffin pan, six individual cups and four small tart pans.  Second, my work hours got shifted for a couple of days enabling me to go home early.  Third, I was determined to try out my grandmother's recipe one more time before trying others out.

Knowing there would still be several rising times required, I started the sponge as soon as I arrived home.  Unfortunately, I got distracted and it was near midnight by the time I remembered I had only finished steps 1 and 2.  I figured I would do steps 3 to 6, let the formed ensaymada rise in the fridge overnight, and finish off with step 7 when I got back from work the next day.

Easier said than done.  I had gone through the whole Jungle Book movie by the time I finished kneading (step 5) and forming the dough (step 6).

We completed step 7 in the evening.  Thank goodness the dough managed to rise while baking in the oven or else we'd have ended up with rocks again. 

I brushed melted butter over the bread soon after they came out of the oven then tried to sprinkle some grated cheese.  The cheese kept falling off that I decided to make that a DIY step.  I gave everyone the option of topping it with either sugar or cheese but since it was DIY most of the ensaymada ended up with both sugar and cheese.

So, all's well that ends well ... in our tummies.

Below is the recipe from the notebook which I have modified slightly to indicate the number of pieces to divide the dough, a lower temperature, and a longer baking time, in the hopes that the yield of this recipe are 16 soft ensaymada rather than 16 softballs.

ENSAYMADA (Country Bake)

1.  Sponge
     3/4 c lukewarm water
     2 t    yeast
     1/2 t  sugar
     1 c    flour
     Mix well and allow to rise 1 hour

2.  To sponge, add
    1/4 c   sugar
    4        egg yolks
    1 c      flour
     Mix well.  Set aside another hour

3.  Cream thoroughly
    3/4 c   butter
    1/4 c   sugar
    4        egg yolks
     Add to yeast mixture.

4.  Add 2 2/3 c flour.  Knead well (400 strokes) on floured board until fine.   Cover and allow to rise 10 mins.

5.  Knead dough on greased board.  Cut into sixteen equal portions and form into balls.

6.  Roll out each ball thinly.  Brush generously with butter.  Roll up and form into coil.  Keep and allow to rise until double.

7.  Bake at 350F for 18-20 mins.  Cool slowly.  Brush over with butter and sprinkle grated cheese.  Dip in sugar.

Into Your Hands

This is the stained glass window beside the choir

at the nearby St. Michael's Church.

Rookie Bushwalk

In the flyer we picked up at the hotel of 101 Things to Do at Batemans Bay, 

one of them was to visit the Regional Botanic Garden.

We discovered it was a seven-minute drive from where we were staying

so we figured it would be a good thing to tick off our list

before heading home.

What we did not know was that one could spend the whole day there.

Alas we had a five hour drive ahead of us

so we opted for the shortest track.

(I was the designated photographer so I managed to steal some nice shots of MacGyver.)

Up Close and Personal @ Mogo Zoo

One of the highlights of our trip last weekend was a visit to the Mogo Zoo.

Official animal photos in this link

It was unlike any other zoo I've visited.

 \

There was a red panda.

 His coat was in the process of shedding.

There were several giant tortoises.

 

We passed by the otters during feeding time.

This otter got a big fish.

This one managed to get two.

I thought the emperor tamarin looked distinguished with his beard.

I picked up the camera when we met the giraffes.

What a joy to have a zoom lens.

I could not help but think that Sister Deer would have loved this zoo.

The zebra were roaming quietly.

 

The lioness and the lion were in a big enclosure together.

The white handed gibbon enjoyed posing.

The rhinoceros was all alone.

I think this was a squirrel monkey.

It seemed keen on getting something from outside its cage.

It would pick up a long stick or a branch, sneak it through the wire,

then scratch intently at the ground. 

MacGyver and I took quite a number of pictures of the silvery gibbons.

It was fun to watch them swing across the ropes.

I was particularly amazed at their furry bottoms.

It spoke heaps of how the animals in this zoo were cared for.

Check out this beautiful tiger,