We were somewhere along Hwy 158 between Coinjock and Grandy in North Carolina, on a road trip to the Outer Banks, the long stretch of beautiful undeveloped national seashore in the East Coast.  It was the Allio’s annual summer trip, a week on the beach before the kids go back to school.   A week spent on an Adirondack on a patio overlooking the Atlantic with a book and a bottle of cold beer.  A week of seafood indulgence.  Fresh, thick tuna and wahoo steaks on the grill, steamed shrimp, and blue crab cakes.  As we drove along cornfields and farm houses, Dennis told stories about camping trips in Cape Hatteras with his mom, dad and his two brothers.  They would drive from Warren in Ohio to the gorgeous shores of North Carolina and spend the week on the beach.   They would climb to the top of the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse, the tallest in the East Coast, and watch the waves crash against the sandbars in the Diamond Shoals.  They would fish and crab in the morning along the Oregon Inlet and enjoy the day’s catch in the evening.  I had never been to the Outer Banks and so I was excited.  Extremely excited that I would get a glimpse of Dennis’ childhood.

On the way to the Outer Banks that morning, we discovered a bustling pit stop, Grandy’s Greenhouse and Farm Market. Fresh, local produce was everywhere like tree-ripened Carolina peaches.  There were homemade pies, breads, jams, pickles, and cheese. There was fudge.  And there was a sign for the Grandy’s Famous BLT in the frozen yogurt shop.  Now, tell me how you can resist this: crunchy, salty bacon; red, ripe tomato wedges; and crisp, juicy iceberg lettuce sandwiched between soft slices of white bread slathered with creamy mayonnaise.  The BLT was so simple, not at all pretentious but very satisfying.

To make it the perfect snack, we paired the BLT with a tall glass of Allie’s frozen yogurt — vanilla overflowing with sweet, sun-kissed Carolina peaches and strawberries.  As we took a bite and a scoop, the breeze blew once again on that scorching hot afternoon and we just knew it was going to be a memorable summer trip.

Stay tuned for more stories of our trip to the Outer Banks. Stories about fishing, crabbing and clamming.

Where is the Outer Banks?

The Outer Banks is a 200-mile long string of narrow islands off the coast of North Carolina, home to the tallest lighthouse in the East Coast, the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse. The Wright Brothers took the very first flight in a powered vehicle on the Outer Banks on December 17, 1903. The very first flight took place at Kill Devil Hills near the town of Kitty Hawk.

View Outer Banks in a larger map

The journey has been frustrating, too.  Oftentimes, I feel that my life has been reduced to a miserable obsession with blog stats.  It sounds funny but it’s actually sad when you think about it: how I am so deeply fixated with clicks and views, with being gawked at and spotted.  It’s not sad, it’s pathetic.  While I worry about my blog impressions, I worry about a million other things in the kitchen like the butter burning, the pan de sal not rising, the ube ice cream melting, and the natural light in the loft fading too quickly before I can finish my shoot.  Feeling frustrated may be an understatement. Feeling defeated may be more appropriate.

But despite these somber feelings of defeat, the journey has actually been very rewarding.  When the clicks are down, I turn to readers like Cindy and Jon who write thoughtful and detailed notes about what worked and what didn’t while they recreated my recipes.

I turn to readers like Dina, Iya, Lou and Bruce, who love not only my photographs but also the stories behind those photographs.

I turn to Dennis and his hairy knuckles.  Yes, those hairy knuckles kneading the dough for char siu baos are his.  He’s my number one fan and my number one critic. Whenever I am ready to pack my camera and quit, Dennis is the one who cheers me up and pushes me to write my next post.

Where do I go from here?

Writing Jun-Blog truly has been a wonderful experience.  But where do I go from here? I don’t want to be just another food blogger who makes asparagus soup because they’re in season or who makes strawberry coulis-infused pancakes because they’re coulis-infused.  The web is already saturated with amazing food-blogging moms and chefs who, frankly, can do a much better job that I can making asparagus soup and making strawberry coulis-infused pancakes.   I want to be different.

I have always drawn inspiration from the incredibly diverse food offerings in San Francisco and the Bay Area, from fine dining to street food, from the Farmers’ Markets to the unique ethnic grocery stores.  Lately, I have also been inspired by stories about beekeepers, fishermen, farmers, and mushroom hunters — stories that reconnect me with the people who bring food to my kitchen.  I think it’s truly fascinating to learn about why honey tastes like vanilla or why morels thrive in lightly charred pine trees.   Our salmon fishing trip a couple of weeks ago, even though we came home sunburned and empty-handed, gave me a deeper sense of appreciation for the hard work fishermen do so I can enjoy a plate of grilled fish for dinner.  Growing a vegetable garden. Canning tomatoes. Making berry jams. Butchering pigs and deer.  These are the kind of stories I want to write more about.  Although, I must say that I enjoy dipping Peeps in melted Venezuelan chocolate, too.

Reinventing Filipino Food

Revisiting my roots on a recent trip back home has made me realize how much I miss and how much I love Filipino food.  I’ve always wondered why there’s a dearth of great Filipino food in the Bay Area considering its diversity and its huge Filipino-American community, one of the largest in the country.  Filipino food is a rich blend of Spanish, Chinese, and Malay influences, among others.  The amazing local flavors, textures and ingredients deserve so much more attention and affection.

I get so thrilled whenever I hear about chefs in the city trying to reinvent Filipino food.  Kitchenette’s offering in a recent street food event is a perfect example of how it should be done: taking something truly Filipino — a souring technique called kinilaw — and elevating it by using fresh local ingredients.  There’s so much more to Filipino food than the ubiquitous chicken adobo, lumpia and pancit in cafeteria-style restaurants.  Filipino food needs a little bit of sophistication to make it more appealing to the more discriminating international palate.  And that’s the big challenge.

These are exciting times for Jun-Blog.  A hundred posts may seem trivial but for a chemical engineer turned photographer, it’s a huge thing.