A Reunion Over Green Tea and Ginger Cookies

It was the first time I saw my friend since she was confined in the hospital late November 2007. Her illness caused her to battle it out in her hospital bed for almost half a year. Shockingly thin with a seemingly weak gait, her eyes belie her gaunt exteriors --- still sparkling, fierce and spritely --- as I hugged her and welcomed her back home.



Being the chipper neighbor that I am, I walked a block to her apartment with a paperbag of fresh greens, my Yoghurt-based Caesar's Dressing and a Garlic Oil Pasta with Asparagus, and bag of green tea leaves. Her system has to be careful of what it puts in so I reckoned these would be lean and safe enough for her to eat. Deceivingly wan, she devoured the hearty meal quicker than I did. I was pleasantly surprised.



Maybe also I talk too much while eating.



Over strong, steeped loose green tea leaves and deliciously chewy ginger cookies home made by her chef Nida, we talked about her victory and little enlightenments over the months. The gruelling and dark phase was a nightmare, and she is grateful for the relief and restoration she now feels being home. We caught up on things like my relationship, her life in New York and Florence, we talked about the China earthquake, and best of all, we talked about food.



There were random things I realized and/or learned that day.



1. Some people don't know how to deal with other people's adversity.

I told her that when my grandfather died, a close friend who saw me one building away from the funeral said "hi" without further regard for the loss of my relative. I was pensive when I asked her who has dropped in on her recently.



2. There's a lot of pores on the soles of our feet.

I see people selling detox pads, or detox foot soaks in salons and have been quite skeptical of them. She told me that when fluids accumulated in her body, it tried to find its way out and it found its way to her feet, constantly draining itself from her soles. "I guess it was trying to find a way out as if it was gonna burst", she said.



3. They sell fresh coconuts in NY.

One of my main culinary concerns in moving to NY is if they sell fresh carabao's milk (for my leche flan) and fresh buko juice (coconut juice) . She told me not to worry. Albeit there would most likely be scant Philippine buko, I would at least find a Jamaican coconut in some groceries.



4. We talked about the way food is grown in other countries.

I told her about my friend in Connecticut who has had this one tomato sitting by its lonesome in her ref for almost a month. No dents, no holes --- perfectly smooth after almost 3 weeks of storage. Also, we talked about the CNN article I read that some scientists are trying to develop apples that won't turn brown. That, I think, is somewhat disturbing.



5. She knows how to pick olives from olive trees.

She told me of the days when she would take part in olive picking in a grove of 700 olive trees in Florence, Italy. Like wine, there are good and bad years for harvesting and if you are picky with flavors, be careful in selecting your oil. Tuscan olive oil is something I must try, she says. We talked about the acquaintance I made recently with an Italian named Maurizio who runs his own resto two blocks away from me (I will write more about his and his resto on a later blog). He taught me how to drip a bit of olive oil on a plate, dip my forefinger, rub it with my thumbs and sniff --- the Italian way for appreciating good olive oil. He brings out a slender green bottle and says, "This costs more than a bottle of Chanel." It tasted like it, too.



It was a laid back rainy afternoon of sharing all sorts of stories after months of not seeing each other.

Such a multi-faceted character, this woman.


I am grateful that :

1. she is a friend,
2. she is alive and well, and
3. she is inching forward, one day at a time, towards an extraordinary recovery.