Well, I'll Be Jammed . . .

Not cocoa -- coconut! Rich, luscious coconut jam over a special 'skiver

I've got an itch.

[They've got creams for that, y'know . . .]

I mean a cognitive itch - "the mental equivalent of an itchy back", according to James Kellaris, a University of Cincinnati marketing professor who coined the term to explain the all-too-common condition of earworms, those annoying tunes that get stuck in your head.

"The only way to 'scratch' a cognitive itch is to rehearse the responsible tune mentally . . . The ensuing mental repetition may exacerbate the itch, such that the mental rehearsal becomes largely involuntary, and the individual feels trapped in a cycle or feedback loop."

(Kellaris, quoted in "Songs That Cause the Brain to Itch")

Dr. Kellaris is referring to music, but I seem to have caught an edible variant of this audible condition: a particular food that insinuated itself into my consciousness, mercilessly stung my appetite and trapped me in a whirlpool of web searches until I finally found the right recipe to soothe it.

Scratching at the Surface

It all began when Lori at Fake Food Free wrote about two favorite food discoveries from her recent travels through Southeast Asia: the intriguing, albeit visually alarming, Soup Tulang (bone marrow soup) and kaya, a delectable coconut jam popular in Malaysia and Singapore. The latter set off tingly feelings of familiarity, even though I've never before tasted it. Instead, it brought to mind Filipino coconut jam and sparked a question: what other versions of this deliciously rich spread might be out there? Before I knew it, a tickle of curiosity turned into a full-fledged spasm for answers.

From the start, it was clear that kaya, a sweet confection made of coconut milk, eggs, pandan extract and sugar, is the best known iteration of coconut jam on the Web, with several blog posts and food references popping up (see also this piece from Phyllis at meHungry, where I first read about it). The most popular preparation of the jam is by layering it with pieces of cool butter on toasted bread to make kaya toast; when served with a soft-boiled egg and a cup of coffee, it comprises what many consider to be Singapore's 'National Breakfast'. Rather than offer a diluted synthesis of the myriad recipes and facts already available about kaya, I encourage you to visit more learned sources, such as Aun Koh of Chubby Hubby and Robyn Eckhardt of EatingAsia, as well as this recent and raved-about recipe from StephCookie at Raspberri Cupcakes.

Despite kaya's near-monopoly of the search results, there were tantalizing hints about coconut jam in other regional cuisines from the South Pacific to the Caribbean. But 'tantalize' is just another word for 'tease': there were frustratingly few details about the origins, ingredients and cultural significance, if any, of these alternative confitures.

At the center of it all

Jams, Jams Everywhere . . .

The most obscure of them is siamu popo, a Samoan coconut caramel spread, for which I found a brief mention in a Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO) document. From this tidbit of data, subsequent online searches turned up only a literal translation (siamu = 'spread', popo = 'coconut'), references in Samoan-language websites (of which, regrettably, Google Translate is not yet capable), and a few remarks in cultural events newsletters alluding to the jam as a national foodstuff. Out of desperation, I tried a longshot keyword search for 'Samoa + coconut + caramel', which only yielded more information than necessary about a particular Girl Scout cookie. All in all, I came away with little else.

More promising was Caribbean coconut jam (which is a lot like calling kaya 'Asian coconut jam' - accurate in a non-informative way). Once again, there was little specific detail about the origins and significance of this condiment, but at least I found a recipe! Unlike kaya and, as you'll see later, Filipino coconut jam, the Caribbean version uses shredded coconut rather than just the cream or milk, and incorporates lime zest, cinnamon and nutmeg. I also came across Passion Culinaire, a French-language food blog that featured a recipe for gâteau de coco (coconut cake), which the author describes as "typique de la Martinique (typical of Martinique)" and uses a nearly identical recipe for the dulcet filling. Although this is hardly definitive proof for a specific place of origin for Caribbean coconut jam, perhaps it narrows the scope a bit.

Next was Egyptian coconut jam, which I learned is traditionally served during Passover and is associated with the cuisine of Syrian Jews of Sephardi origins (source: Wikipedia/Syrian Jews). In an article for The Independent (UK) a few years ago, food writer Claudia Roden, the Cairo-born author of The Book of Jewish Food, described her childhood memories of celebrating Pessah (as Passover is known in Egypt) and the many foods that held special connotations for the holiday, including "jams and preserves [made] with coconut, which evoked purity by its whiteness." Happily, she also shared a recipe for Egyptian coconut jam that is significantly different from the other spreads by its use of distinctly Middle Eastern flavors of floral essences and nuts.

**If you are familiar with and have more details about any of these jams (or know of another kind), please share! I'd love to learn more about them.**

A Jam by Any Other Name

As appealing as all these coconut jams are, the persistent tickle in my tummy was for the version nearest to my heart - the rich, dark spread of caramel-y consistency known by various names in the Philippines: matamis na bao (Tagalog for 'sweet coconut shell'), katiba (in Pangasinan), latik and the colloquial cocojam. Whereas kaya sweetens buttered toast and the Caribbean confection fills a layered cake, matamis na bao is at its luscious best as a topping for such native sticky-rice cakes as biko and suman. They also happen to be my all-time favorite Filipino desserts (and the main temptations at the Circles breakfast buffet during the holidays), so when Lori's post touched off a coconut jam craving, I went in search of a recipe.

Matamis na Bao: sweet stuff

Although cocojam had its fair share of search results, I was flabbergasted to find that nearly all of them referred to commercial products, even where the author made the accompanying rice cakes from scratch. I fared no better with my collection of Filipino cookbooks - not one had a recipe specifically for matamis na bao. Finally, finally, I found something: a simple 3-ingredient recipe that required only a bit of adaptation. My coconut jam itch was about to be scratched . . .

Fast forward to this very moment, when there's a lovely little jar of scrumptious matamis in my refrigerator. While it took a little time and a lot of stirring, the effort yielded the flavor and texture that I so fondly recalled. But while I've sated this particular craving, I'm starting to feel a slight prickling of the appetite again - the other jam recipes, it seems, are playing my song.

Matamis Na Bao
(adapted from this recipe)

Despite the lack of details about the different jams discussed here, it's undeniable that each is quite distinct from the other while still sharing the essence of coconut. For this reason, I chose to use the Tagalog term for coconut jam to distinguish its proud provenance, just as kaya in Malaysia and Singapore, and siamu popo in Samoa signify their origins. If anyone is aware of other names for Caribbean and Egyptian coconut jams, please let us know!

As mentioned, this recipe consists of just three ingredients; however, I was not readily familiar with two of them, necessitating substitutions that turned out much better than expected. The following briefly describes the original ingredients and my substitutes:

Fresh Coconut Milk
One version of the matamis na bao recipe begins with fresh coconuts and proceeds to instruct on scraping, soaking and squeezing the meat to produce fresh cream. Not gonna happen. There are plenty of excellent canned coconut milk products readily available, such as Aroy-D and Savoy; I used the brand Chaokoh after reading this convincing product review from Leela at SheSimmers.

Panutsa (Panocha)

In the Philippines, panutsa is a grade of muscovado sugar, one of the country's fastest-growing agricultural products, and is commonly found in cake or chunk forms. Similar products include panela from Colombia, jaggery in India, and rapadura in Brazil (source: Wikipedia/Panela). While dark brown sugar may be used in its place, the flavor is likely to be much sweeter and less complex than ideal. I opted for muscovado rocks that we brought home from our recent Philippine trip and I encourage you to look for muscovado or similar sugars at your local Asian and Latin markets before resorting to DBS.

Glucose

Calling a food by its chemical component is so unappetizing! In the US, glucose syrup is perhaps better known as corn syrup, while in the UK the preferred liquid sweetener is golden syrup (or treacle), made from sugar cane. My third, and winning, option was molasses, the dark, viscous by-product of sugar refining (ironically, it's added back to white sugar in small amounts to make 'brown sugar'). Specifically, I used blackstrap molasses, which contains many of the nutrients extracted during the refining of sugar cane, including iron, potassium and calcium. However, it is much less sweet than other syrups and is actually somewhat bitter, so I reduced by half the amount called for in the original recipe.

The result was a coconut jam of caramel-smooth texture, dark chocolate color and subtly complex flavor.

Equipment
Candy thermometer

Ingredients
2 1/2 cups coconut milk
1/4 cup blackstrap molasses
1 cup muscovado sugar

To make:
1. In a heavy sauce pan or pot, combine coconut milk and molasses over medium heat until it comes to a gentle boil;
2. Add muscovado sugar and stir well to dissolve into mixture. Continue cooking at a gentle boil, stirring constantly and reducing heat as necessary to keep from boiling over;
3. Cook mixture until it reaches 200°-220°F on candy thermometer ('jelly' stage) - approximately 1 hour of cooking time. The mixture will have reduced by at least half.
4. Remove from heat and let cool for a bit before transferring into a clean glass jar. Coconut jam should keep in the refrigerator for about 2 weeks.

For this recipe, the matamis will have a room-temperature consistency similar to soft fudge. For use as a sauce, spoon a desired amount into a microwaveable container, add milk or water by the teaspoon, and heat for 10-12 seconds until the right consistency is achieved.

Cocojam 'Skivers
(adapted from Cooks.com)

I can't leave well enough alone. Though matamis na bao can be used like kaya as a bread spread, it really shines when paired with glutinous rice cakes cooked in coconut milk. Too impatient to make those more involved recipes, I instead pulled out my aebleskiver pan, played around with a batter recipe and cooked up a tangled, Asian-Danish fusion pancake ball with the slightly chewy texture of a rice cake and a sweet center of coconut jam.

Ingredients
2 cups coconut milk
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup rice flour
2 eggs, separated
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 Tablespoons sugar
Vegetable oil
Matamis na bao or other coconut jam

To make:
1. Pre-heat aebleskiver or takoyaki pan over medium heat;
2. Separate the eggs and beat whites until stiff, then set aside;
3. Combine the remaining ingredients (including egg yolks) and mix until smooth. Fold in egg whites;
4. Add scant vegetable oil to pan and heat, then spoon batter into wells until just to the top;
5. Spoon small portions of coconut jam (about 1/4 teaspoon) onto batter before the first turn, then continue cooking 'skivers as usual;
6. Serve with a side of matamis na bao and freshly grated coconut.

Anatomy of a Binge

'Apple Pie' Lefse: sweet atonement

I was doomed from the start.

In my last post, Heaven Can Weight, I alternately reveled in and lamented over the astounding buffet at Circles Café in the Makati Shangri-La Hotel, where I could be found stuffing myself every morning during our recent Philippine vacation. As a result, my luggage wasn't the only thing that went over the weight limit.

From the heights of self-indulgence to the depths of self-remorse, I've spent the past two weeks cutting back on calories, working out like a fiend and dissecting how I lost complete control of my eating in the first place. My conclusion: I had no choice - the buffet made me do it.

The Buffet-volution of Tangled Noodle

It's been my personal rule to avoid 'all-you-can-eat' establishments after an unfortunate incident a few years ago at an Indian lunch buffet involving way too much korma, lassi and gulab jamun. Many of you, I'm sure, also decline to dine without limit. But the buffet scenario isn't always so easily averted: while  we can bypass a particular restaurant, it's hard to dodge the feast at personal gatherings where commensality is part and parcel of socializing. When it results in one too many return trips to the chafing dish, we're likely to blame ourselves - just as I did - for having weak wills.

Noodle family's Noche Buena spread

As I throw myself in penance onto the elliptical machine, it may help to understand what I was up against: like the Serpent in the Garden of Eden, that sly arrangement of food served as temptation for me to take one (or more) bite of a very large apple.

Variety is the Sneaky Spice of Life

In a 2004 study about the effects of the variety and arrangement of goods on total consumption, consumer behavior researchers Barbara E. Kahn and Brian Wansink (whose book, Mindless Eating, was discussed in this blog) found that the more varied the assortment of food offered, the greater the amount of food consumed (Kahn 519). In other words, the mere sight of a large medley of eats, as in buffets, may be enough to turn an otherwise disciplined and healthy diner into a chowdown chowhound.

How exactly does it happen? Kahn and Wansink cited previous research demonstrating an increase in 'good' moods when people are faced with variety, or multiple options, which in turn may lead them to view external stimuli more positively (Kahn 521). For example, at home I usually prepare and eat only one breakfast item, such as pancakes, yogurt and granola, or eggs on toast. At Circles, however, I was faced with ALL of these at once. Although it was so far from my norm, I was so thrilled by the variety that I saw nothing wrong with putting each food on my plate.

Ironically, when faced with the choice of so many favorite breakfast foods, I was unable to pick just one. This is part of what psychologist and author Barry Schwartz calls the Paradox of Choice:

"One of the 'costs' of making a selection is losing the opportunities that a different option would have afforded ['opportunity cost'] . . . If we assume that opportunity costs reduce the overall desirability of the most preferred choice, then the more alternatives there are, the deeper the sense of loss will be and the less satisfaction we will derive from our ultimate decision." (Schwartz 72)

If I had chosen, say, only pancakes for my morning meal, I might have wondered if the eggs on toast would've tasted better. By choosing to eat all of my favorites at once, I reduced the potential risk of regret. Unfortunately, I didn't completely eliminate the second-guessing: was the immediate satiety and pleasure I felt while eating really worth the remorse and self-disgust later when I couldn't button up my jeans?

Circles Café pastry case: one of each, please

May the Force (of Habit) Be With You

While opportunity costs and trade-offs might explain why I ate different foods at one sitting, they don't shed light on why I ate such an enormous quantity of them. For illumination, I turned to a recent paper by behavioral economist David R. Just, who noted that people make rational food decisions based on hedonics (short-term sensory pleasure) or utility (long-term health and wellness); however, extra-rational (i.e. mindless) choices are often guided by heuristics, quick, low-involvement decision-making strategies, such as 'rules of thumb', habits or preferences, e.g. 'I will not have second helpings' (Just S47). The catch is that heuristics are strongly influenced by context - the condition or environment surrounding the decision, like being in front of a buffet.

"Distracting stimuli [e.g. eating with others] may influence consumption by limiting the ability to deliberate on choice and intake . . . [and] may result in selecting and consuming types of food that have short-term hedonic benefits but long-term health detriments.

"[Environmental] attributes surrounding the presentation and serving of food [also] suggest a consumption norm that dictates what and how much to eat." (Just, 851)

The idea that our surroundings serve as an eating cue is supported by Kahn and Wansink, who also observed that "if there is a social norm to choose more variety, an organized larger assortment may signal that larger consumption amounts will be socially acceptable" (Kahn, 522). At Circles, other diners' rushed past me as I cast furtive peeks at their laden plates to see what they had chosen, and I'm sure they did the same of my picks. In this atmosphere, we were all engaged in the same purpose - to eat breakfast - and the colors, textures and aromas of the abundant food around us flashed one luminous, reassuring message: it's okay to eat like a horse, you're part of the herd!

There's No Such Thing as a Free Lunch (or Breakfast)

"I felt remarkably full but couldn't shake the feeling that since I could eat as much as I wanted, and had already paid a fixed price (about £20), two plates wouldn't cut it . . . 'Full?' I sneered at my stretching stomach. 'Get over it. I'm getting my money's worth.' " (Strimpel)

Sound familiar? It does to me. Like journalist Zoë Strimpel's experience, I've binged at a buffet until just short of passing out, determined to consume the amount of food equal to the money I spent. Once the fixed price* of all-you-can-eat has been paid, it's up to diners to decide for themselves how much to eat commensurately. To do otherwise would mean a loss of good money and, as Schwartz noted, "losses have a much greater psychological impact than gains" (73).

*Unless you live in Brazil, Peru and other countries where many buffets are 'pay per kilo'. This 'pay per weight' system is also found in many U.S. supermarkets where ready-to-go foods are offered.

Unfortunately, this kind of impetus makes us poor calculators. Once again, to avoid a negative outcome (regret before, loss now), a buffet-goer might make extra-rational food choices (per Just) in order to fulfill a socially acceptable goal - to maximize one's 'investment' in the meal. This means not only ignoring natural physical cues to stop eating, such as feeling full, but also breaking a law - an economic one, that is.

The Law of Diminishing Noodle Utility
(Graphic revised 1/17/10 - Thanks for catching the error, Tom!)

The law of diminishing marginal utility, in our context, states that with every additional bite of food, we actually take away less value from our eating endeavor. Proprietors of commercial buffets rely on this principle to operate successfully as diners rarely (with some exceptions) actually eat more than the restaurant's cost of the food. In trying to recoup our perceived costs, we consume more than is pleasurable, healthy or economic; we end up losing for winning.

An Accessory to Eating

At least in my case, the observations made by Kahn, Wansink, Just and Schwartz were borne out - the seduction of a large variety of food, the sight of others engaging in the same activity, and the need to 'come out even' came together to override the healthy eating habits that I worked long and hard to develop. It's rather disconcerting that subconscious elements have such influence on my behavior. I still believe the buffet made me do it but I'll own up to a portion of responsibility. Call it the Shangri-La Syndrome: I may have been unwittingly entrapped by Circles but in the end, I wasn't entirely unwilling to participate.

I must confess, those were the best ten days of breakfast eating EVER!

Works Cited
Just, David R. and Collin R. Payne. "Obesity: Can Behavioral Economics Help?" Annals of Behavioral Medicine. 38, Suppl 1 (2009): S47-S55.
Kahn, Barbara E. and Brian Wansink. "The Influence of Assortment Structure on Perceived Variety and Consumption Quantities." Journal of Consumer Research. 30 (March 2004): 519-532.
Schwartz, Barry. "The Tyranny of Choice." Scientific American. April 2004: 70-75.
Strimpel, Zoë. "All You Can Eat Buffets Encourage Overeating as People Strive to Get Their Money's Worth." TimesOnline. 10 Apr 2008: no pag.

Breakfast of Contrition

Now that the holidays are over, I'm back to my regular morning regimen of yogurt and granola. With the memories of overindulgence at Circles Café still fresh, I won't be cooking up huge Sunday breakfasts anytime soon. Still, I'd like to enjoy a treat. As I may have mentioned before, I love pancakes, so here are two recent iterations that are simple enough to serve as penance for my gluttony.

Atonement Apple Pie Lefse
Lefse is a traditional Norwegian flatbread made with potatoes, flour and cream and is often served simply buttered, lightly sugared or accompanied by jams and jellies (though savory fillings such as smoked fish are also popular). Luckily for me, lefse can be found in the refrigerated section of grocery stores here in Minnesota, which I used here. If you're not acquainted with a lefse-maker, consider making it yourself - check out this tutorial from Jennifer at Unplanned Cooking when she guest-posted for Greg at SippitySup.

No measurements here! Just use as much as you'd like, or try completely different ingredients.

Lefse
Butter, softened
Sugar (I used organic from Mexico)
Cinnamon
Walnuts, chopped into small pieces
Applesauce, unsweetened

Preheat oven to 325°F and place lefse on baking sheets. Spread with softened butter then sprinkle sugar, cinnamon and walnuts evenly. Bake for 5-7 minutes or until sugar melts into butter. Remove from oven, let cool just until it can be handle. Roll up each sheet and serve with applesauce on top or on the side.

Penitent Pancakes
(adapted from Totally Pancakes & Waffles Cookbook by Helene Siegel)
The original recipe for these silver dollar 'cakes called for sour cream but instead, I used Greek-style yogurt and some lemon juice for a brighter flavor. Don't be fooled by their size: they're packed with great taste and texture, proving that a little goes a long way!

A perfectly plain penance

Yields about 16 pancakes

Ingredients
2 eggs
1 cup Greek-style yogurt (or 3/4 cup plain yogurt)
1/4 cup lemon juice
2 Tablespoons sugar
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon baking soda

To Make:
1. Combine all ingredients in a bowl, mixing well until batter is smooth;
2. Heat skillet or griddle over medium-high heat and add butter to coat. Spoon approximately 2 Tablespoons of batter onto pan, allowing space for it to spread;
3. Fry until bubbles appear on top and pancake is golden underneath. Flip and continue frying until done;
4. Serve with maple syrup, jams or powdered sugar. Enjoy!

Heaven Can Weight: Circles Café

Birchermüesli: simplicity among extravagance

How does Paradise become Purgatory? When a vulnerable appetite is tempted to acts of Dantesque gluttony by an otherworldly array of food, that's how.

Such was the diner's dilemma that I faced at the Shangri-La Hotel's breakfast buffet in Makati City, Philippines a few weeks ago. Oh, the food! As far as the eye could see (at least, to the far wall) was a display of chow so luxuriant that I was convinced I had indeed stumbled upon the namesake utopia of James Hilton's Lost Horizon. But as it turned out, a more appropriate literary analogy was Aligheiri's Divine Comedy: I had entered the infernal Circles, Shangri-la's 'theatre-kitchen' café, where enticing international breakfast fare mocked the pious yogurt-and-granola daily regimen of my non-vacation life.

After the final plate was cleared, there wasn't a fig leaf large enough to cover my shameful gorging in this Garden of Eating.

Asian sampler: sashimi, bangus and sambhar

Delicious Doom

Circles' cornucopia offered everything from sushi and dim sum to parathas and pancakes. In a global journey along the buffet line, I giddily chose between Indian sambhar and idli, American bacon and eggs, and Filipino bangus and sinangag (garlic fried rice). It was a microcosm of breakfast traditions from different cultures that challenged patrons to reconsider what constitutes typical morning fare. Bowls of crunchy cereal and pitchers of cold milk stood alongside steaming pots of miso, arroz caldo and ramen noodle soups. For those who preferred more protein-y options, there were Weisswurst and longanisa sausages, corned beef hash, smoked salmon and eggs cooked to order, all of which were equally enjoyable with toasted slices of whole-grain bread or a scoopful of scented jasmine rice.

Sinfully Circles' tempting treats

And then there was Sinfully Circles, a mirror-walled annex whose name tacitly acknowledged the temptations within: breads, pastries, cakes and chocolates of various shapes and flavors adding sweet, buttery, cocoa-licious insult to caloric injury.

But I only had eyes for the kakanin, an assortment of traditional Filipino treats made with whole or ground rice. Between the gaily-colored mochi balls, the striking stripes of sapin-sapin, the deep purple of ube haleya and my absolute favorite, sweet-sticky-scrumptious biko (rice cake topped with latik, or coconut jam), I simply could not resist having dessert for breakfast every day. It proved to be my fall from grace.

What Goes Around Makes Me Round

The restaurant's name, theme and much of the food were quite fitting for the upcoming New Year festivities as circles, spheres and rings are considered auspicious symbols of prosperity (coins) and completion (coming full circle), borrowed from Chinese tradition and incorporated into Filipino celebration.

(Clockwise from top left) Donuts, mochi balls, fresh juice and sushi rolls

Although I grew up participating in these practices, I was surprised to find just how deeply ingrained they were: without conscious thought, I often found my plate filled with these lucky shapes. Less fortuitously, said plate was constantly full for the next 10 days as I made the seemingly endless loop from table to food stations and back again.

By the time our stay at Shangri-La was over, my belly had taken on the soft, pillowy roundness of the freshly-baked pandesal I couldn't resist buttering each morning. Of the 4 pairs of jeans in my vacation wardrobe, only the spandex-blend pair still fit by trip's end. Thank goodness for loose tunics and black yoga pants - I would return home plump, yes, but at least semi-stylish.

I knew better than to lose myself in a buffet, yet the will proves weak when it finds itself in a room filled with delectables crying out, "Eat me!" Like falling asleep in a fairy ring, entering the realm of all-you-can-eat can turn into a nutritional trap and much like a wicked spell, the lure of bottomless dishes is, according to behavioral researchers, powerful and subconsciously irresistible. But that's for my next post.

In the meantime, let me leave you with the hint of hope that I found among the decadent food in Circles - Birchermüesli, a creamy concoction that made me feel indulgent yet faithful to my aforementioned morning mainstay of yogurt and granola. Though it didn't quite stem the overeating, it did help to bring me back down to earth.


Birchermüesli
Never mind how it came to be that my first taste of this Swiss cereal dish was in the Philippines - it only matters that I did and that I love it! Also known as Bircher-Benner müesli, this luscious, healthy meal was the creation of Swiss physician and nutrition pioneer Maximilian Bircher-Benner (1867-1939), whose original recipe for a simple mixture of raw oats, apple and nuts soaked overnight in sweetened condensed milk and lemon juice has evolved over the years to become a worldwide breakfast favorite. Today, müesli may be readily found pre-packaged at the grocery store but can be made just as easily from scratch at home.

I put together this müesli with ingredients in my pantry (although I do have a bag of Bob's Red Mill Müesli on hand) and instead of condensed milk or cream and lemon juice, I used yogurt and orange juice. Like most of today's müesli recipes, it differs from Dr. Bircher-Benner's original creation in specific ingredients but remains faithful in its simple essence - a delicious way to say "Magandang umaga!" (Good morning!)

Basic Birchermüesli for One
These ingredients and measurements are flexible so feel free to substitute and to increase amounts as needed for the servings desired.

Ingredients

1/4 cup rolled oats
1 Tbsp sliced almonds
1 Tbsp dried cranberries, chopped into small bits
1/4 cup plain, lowfat yogurt
1/4 cup orange juice
1 Tbsp grated or finely chopped fresh apple (I used Fuji)
Cinnamon

To Make

In a small bowl, combine all ingredients (except apple and cinnamon) and stir until well blended. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate overnight. To serve, top with grated apple and a sprinkle of cinnamon.

If you'd like to try some of the wonderful fare I enjoyed at Shangri-La's Circle Café, check out these great recipes from a few of my favorite bloggers:

Idly and Tomato Sambhar from Chitra at Ratatouille: Anyone Can Cook

Sinangag (Garlic Fried Rice) from Joelen at What's Cookin', Chicago?

Longanisa from Marvin at Burnt Lumpia

Daifuku (Mochi with Adzuki Bean Paste) from Divina at Sense & Serendipity

Sapin-Sapin and Ube Haleya from Manang at Kusina ni Manang

Biko from Marketman at Market Manila

Pandesal from The Beancounter