A recent breakfast at T-28 Cafe in the Outer Sunset reminded me just how good a cup of hot, strong milk tea tastes on lazy weekend mornings. Although the richness of a well-aged pu-erh or the emerald sweetness of a spring shin-cha give me great pleasure as a tea drinker, neither have a place in my heart like down-home milk tea.

Milk tea is its own religion in Hong Kong, intertwined in the colony's history and culinary culture. It's a topic not taken lightly, and I know I enter dangerous territory writing about it as an outsider. I've hosted visitors insisted on traveling with their own packets of instant "3-in-1" milk tea to ensure that their morning cup wouldn't be compromised. Although the boba generation may not remember, milk tea helped defined the intersection of east and west. Enjoyed from morning to midnight, it was served on nearly every street corner. Establishments guarded their secret recipes, and even McDonald's began offering its own version of milk tea.

One of the 28 remaining dai pai dong in Hong Kong. Ubiquitous in the 50s and 60s, these street stalls specialized in both hot and cold milk tea as well as fast fare at all times of the day and night. I love those little, built-in, square stools -- perfect for hunching over a bowl of noodles.

As with any ritual that combines comfort with caffeine, there's much debate over the specifics, from the type of tea leaves to the brand of milk to the precise mechanics of combining the two. Generally, though, most can agree on some basic tenets for milk tea: a blend of Ceylon and Assam leaves brewed for an extended period, a generous stir of evaporated milk, and a hint of sweetness from a spoonful of condensed milk or sugar. Purists will insist on Black & White brand milk (the one with the cow on the label) and a cloth brewing bag to mimic the fine-textured, oblong filters that lend milk tea its nickname in Cantonese: "silk stocking tea." I'm perfectly okay with English and Irish Breakfast teabags, but even the pragmatist in me admits that milk tea with anything else but evaporated milk falls far from its creator's intent.

The key is brewing the tea over low heat for a very long time. The extra tannin gives enough body and bitterness to balance the milk, so the result is a strong yet silky smooth, creamy, and full-bodied drink that's as easy to identify by sight as a properly made espresso. In fact, even before the cup arrives, you'll know: walk into any cafe that makes its own milk tea and you'll pick up instantly milk tea's distinctive scent.

Marrying into the Wu family means learning new habits. The morning after my wedding, Ba Wu brews a big pot of milk tea for all our guests.

Yes, I know, Anglophiles and expats all shudder in horror at the thought of milk tea. But just like a tall glass of Southern sweet tea or a mug of cowboy coffee, the moment you sip one made with integrity and generosity, you'll understand.

For your first cup of milk tea, don't order from a place that makes it from an instant mix. Instead, look for Hong Kong eateries or bakeries where it appears on a separate drink menu. The popularity of bubble tea means a true milk tea has become extremely difficult to find. Try it at Sweetheart Cafe on Grant, D&A on Broadway, or ABC Bakery on Jackson in SF Chinatown. Slanted Door has an excellent version, lifted out of its Chinese diner ambience but honest, strong and good. My favorite source, T-28 Cafe out on Taraval at 28th Avenue, has an extensive menu that also highlights lemon tea, ginger coke, and other lovely libations.

Making Hong Kong Milk Tea

Experiment with various combinations of Ceylon ("English Breakfast") and Assam ("Irish Breakfast") teas. I personally like the redder, warmer flavors of more Assam leaves, but many prefer the darker, more robust Ceylon. If you use a large mesh ball or one of those muslin tea brewing bags, it'll be easier to strain loose tea leaves. Of course, teabags sidestep this entirely.

Bring a small pot of water just to the boiling point, but do not let it actually bubble up. Lower the heat to as low as possible. Add three times as many tea bags or twice as much loose tea as you would normally. Cover and leave the tea to brew for at least 10 minutes and up to 30 minutes. Strain out the tea leaves or remove the teabags; for this, it's okay to squeeze teabags to get the extra boost. Stir in evaporated milk until the tea is the color of caramel, then bring the tea back to very hot serving temperature.

Divide the tea among several cups and invite your guests to stir in a spoonful of sweetened condensed milk or sugar.

Learning the true shape of our food sometimes comes as a surprise. The challenge of carrying ingredients across time and distance plus the reality of everyday cooking has transformed the look, feel and -- most importantly -- taste of many foods.

That dry, yellow powder known here as turmeric is certainly one of them.

Looking at a little bottle of it in the supermarket, it's hard to believe that this cousin of ginger boasts the same family's gracefully arched leaves and large, stunning blossoms. There are many varieties grown in India, from where nearly all the world's supply comes. Turmeric's fragrant bite and intensely golden hue make it a key ingredient in the cuisine and culture of Asia's southern and southeastern regions. It's applied as an effective antibacterial tonic in Ayurvedic medicine, simmered in peppery Burmese soups and infused into golden cones of nasi kuning at Indonesian weddings.

Many foods more familiar to Westerners, say ballpark mustard and certain cheeses, also gain their yellow hue from turmeric. It's often dismissed, unfairly, as a lesser substitute for saffron by those who haven't tried it in its whole, fresh form or who aren't familiar with its native, rather than derivative, uses. The Royal Botanical Kew Gardens maintains an excellent website where you can learn more about the ancient history, botany, medicinal uses and spiritual traditions of turmeric.

Selecting and Storing

Look for the slim, orange rhizomes of fresh turmeric in the produce section of Asian and Indian markets, in small bags near where the herbs are sold. Buy rhizomes with bright, smooth peels, avoiding any with soft spots, dark bruises or dried out tips. They freeze well and grate easily while still frozen. Just immerse what you need in some warm water for a few minutes, than proceed to peel and grate.

For each teaspoon of dry turmeric in a recipe, substitute about 1 inch of fresh turmeric. Peel the thin outer layer by gently scraping with the edge of a spoon's bowl, and then grate the rhizome finely with a microplane or a ginger grater. It's best to bring out the color and flavor of the fresh rhizome with a quick stir in some hot oil.

Some simple ways to enjoy turmeric:

- Use it in any curry recipe that calls for dry, ground turmeric, adding it to the pan after the dry spices have been toasted or stirring with other aromatics that are cooked in oil.

- To dress up leftover rice: Saute grated turmeric, minced garlic, salt and a generous amount of black pepper in hot oil until fragrant and golden. Stir in a few tablespoons of coconut milk. Add cooked rice and stir until evenly coated. Serve hot. For a special meal, transfer the rice to banana leaves and steam for 20 minutes.

- To make a lovely Burmese soup: Stir several crushed garlic cloves, a small amount of paprika and half a teaspoon of grated turmeric into a couple cups of chicken broth. Simmer for 10 to 20 minutes, then add thinly sliced seasonal vegetables such as daikon, chayote, spinach, mustard greens, watercress or even carrots. Season to taste with salt and a generous grinding of black pepper, then sprinkle with chopped cilantro or scallions just before serving.

- For a refreshing cucumber sauce over fried or grilled fish: Halve lengthwise 2 or 3 small, pickling cucumbers or 1/2 of a hothouse cucumber. Scoop out seeds and cut into thick slices. Stir grated turmeric and onions in hot oil until fragrant and bright golden. Add chopped garlic and finely shredded ginger, then stir in the cucumbers, 1/2 cup of stock and, optionally, a spoonful of coconut milk. Simmer just until the cucumbers are warmed through, then transfer to serving bowl or pour over cooked fish.

- The next time you're at an Indian market, look for turmeric pickles tucked in among the other mango, lime and eggplant pickles. One of my favorites!

- To brighten your own favorite salsa, chutney or pickles: Grate turmeric, then heat it in the oil or a small amount of the liquid used in the recipe or even a bit of the pickling brine from purchased pickles. Stir well with other ingredients.

- Experiment with this natural food coloring by slipping a bit into any recipe that calls for ginger. You never know, that bright, new dish might become a classic from your kitchen.

Lest readers things that I only like to eat meat (and by meat, I mean, of course, pork) I'm dedicating today's post to one of my favorite cusines: South Indian.

After a recent crash course in using a Sumeet mixer-grinder, Ramach and Vidya introduced me to one of their standby eateries. I had planned to make my way back up 880 to Fremont for some good Indian eats, but Vidya assured me that a detour to Sunnyvale would be worth my time. Never to turn down a personal introduction to food, I postponed a few more rounds of pani puri for a plate of endless rice.

As with many Indian restaurants, our destination was ensconced in a strip mall alongside a Korean market, Chinese noodle shop, and Hindi video store. Komala Vilas is nothing fancy. Like its website, it offers only the essentials. There's not an extensive menu that includes every region of the subcontinent, nor are there evocative artifacts on the walls. If your skin is pale, you might be the only one of your kind in the dining room. Expect families on the weekends and high-tech workers during the weekday lunch rush.

But for experiencing a delicious meal as its enjoyed toward the tip of India, you can't find much better.

A banana leaf meal. (Photo by Peter Tan.)

A formal South Indian meal is divided into three courses of rice. Before stainless steel became widespread, banana leaves were the plate of choice, and if you travel in India, you'll still see this very convenient, very natural form of disposable dinnerware. With purity of service being so important, these one-use plates, bowls and cups were standard. It also helps that the plants are incredibly abundant in the south. Kerala is named, quite literally, after the banana trees that cover this state. Nowadays, stainless steel is widespread, especially in less banana-friendly climes like the U.S.

If you visit Malaysia, Singapore, Indonesia, or Thailand, you'll find "banana leaf" restaurants and street stalls that serve a wide variety of food. There's something about eating off a fresh, green leaf that makes the simplest sauce even more flavorful.

Although it seems casual, there are specific dictates in India to serving food on a banana leaf, especially for celebratory feasts or religious offerings. From alternating dry vegetables with gravies to the exact corner for placing a sweet palate teaser, the order of up to 20 different foods follows a circular pattern that incorporates health, religion and regional traditions. Udupi diners, in particular, take particular care in the placement of their food.

At Komala Vilas, you won't need to worry about this. You won't even receive a menu, for that matter, but have no fear, for eating at restaurants like this is as simple as nodding your head. (You can even practice the Indian nod, that gentle sideways bobbing that marks a native of the subcontinent.) You'll be given a large, metal plate, then immediately, servers will appear with large buckets of food. All you need to do is say yes to rice and its many accompaninents.

One of the courses making its way around the dining room.

As with dim sum and hotel brunch buffets, it's all about the pacing. Even if you're very hungry, you might want to pass on seconds of the first course. The food is so good and the servers so attentive that it's very easy to accept more every time they come by. Spicy pickles and eating with your fingers slows you down a little, but not as much as you'd think.

Finally, a note must be included about forkless food. As one of my hosts in Kerala told me, she couldn't imagine eating with implements, as they would separate her from an entire sensory facet of food. The texture and temperature of vegetables in her hands were as important to her as our emphasis on visual aesthetics. At Komala Vilas, you'll learn to get in touch with your food. Just as you would use chopsticks at a Chinese banquet, do follow your fellow diners at a South Indian restaurant. Remember that the right hand is for food, though an occasional nudge with your left fingers is unavoidable for most beginners.

Cup your four fingers together like a spoon, and then use your thumb to slip each bite into your mouth. High society looks favorably on those who only wet their fingertips up to the first knuckle, but everyday eaters don't mind a handful of flavor.

Now, for the rice courses...

DAL SAMBAR
Sambar is the everyday food of South India. If you've tasted any of the common chaat, such as idli or vada, then you most probably received some sambar alongside or over it. Made from a handful of lentils or mung bean simmered in a pot of water until they disintegrate into a smooth, creamy mixture, dal has infinite potential. The most common flavorings include golden turmeric, sour tamarind, earthy asafoetida, fragrant curry leaves, and popped mustard seeds.

A ladleful of the sambar will appear at the top, left of your plate. To the right goes the vegetable of the day, such as drumstick, cabbage, potato, or caulifower. Once the rice comes, you can mix in as much of the sambar as you want.

Large rounds of crisp pappadam will be offered, too. You can crush them into little bits to sprinkle over your rice, or you can just break off pieces occasionally to dip into the sambar. Or you can just eat them all before your rice even arrives. Your choice.

The killer bucket that comes by regularly is the one filled with ghee. It's an endless spring of buttery goodness, and for those who are ignoring their arteries, this golden richness makes everything taste better.

Sambar, cabbage and pappadam waiting for a generous heap of rice.

RASAM RICE
The second course is analogous to a soup course. Rasam refers to the tangy, thin broth that gets poured over your rice. A small amount of one or two vegetables adds some texture, while a generous finishing of fresh herbs and oil-sputtered spices adds complex layers of flavors. Again, mix it all up and then sweep the rice up to your lips. If you like your rice very wet, feel free to use the side of your hand to scoop and eat.

By this time, you will also have been offered pickles. Maybe green mango, maybe zesty lime, or maybe a please-them-all mixed variety. I love pickles and have to curb my affinity for all things sour, or else the entire meal begins to taste like one spicy heap of pickle.

RICE & CURDS
The third and last savory course is a cooling mixture of rice and buttermilk or yogurt. Again, you can ask for ghee to enrich the rice. One of the most delicious versions I've had included some fresh lemon juice and more ghee than you want to know. Rice and curds is Indian comfort food at its best. I'd go in just for this course alone.

FILTER COFFEE

A tumbler of filter coffee, nestled in a deep, flared davarah, comes to the table frothy hot.

Since I have Vietnamese blood in my viens, sipping Indian filter coffee comes as naturally to me as slurping pho. The metal filter, the 20-minute drip time, the bite of chicory mellowed with caramel sweetness -- it's culinary deja vu.

You can order chai, but since we're enjoying the flavors of South India, a tumbler of strong coffee is a must. Coffee became popular relatively recent in the subcontinent, but as the bean's cultivation spread under the Raj across the foothills of the Western Ghats, it soon became a drink of choice in the surrounding states of Tamil Nadu, Karnataka, Kerala and Andra Pradesh. It's the Peaberry that gives Madras filter coffee its distinctive flavor, but other dark roast varieties can also be used.

Someone in the kitchen will pour the coffee back and forth between two containers to raise a lively forth of bubbles. The coffee should arrive so hot that you can't touch the tumbler. Pour a little into the deep saucer and swirl it around to cool. Most like to sweeten their coffee a bit...or a lot. White sugar is the modern stand-in for jaggery, but if you ask nicely, you might be able to convince the server to bring you some deeply flavored palm sugar. Moist flakes of jaggery is to filter coffee what a drippy spoonful of sweetened, condensed milk is to Vietnamese coffee.

It's powerful stuff. There's rarely need for a second cup, but then again, when has need ever stopped us from enjoyment?

DESSERT
In the spirit of all-you-can-eat, I had triple servings of their lovely payasam. This soothing dessert -- made from milk that's been boiled, gently sweetened with sugar, thickened with tiny strands of vermicelli, flavored with cardamom, and sprinkled with almonds -- is one of my favorites. You might think that you don't have room, but it's only a few spoonfuls (times three), just enough to finish a thoroughly satisfying meal.

KOMALA VILAS
1020 East El Camino Real, Sunnyvale
(408) 733-7400

Yesterday, I attended the best cookbook event ever. Book signings are now more a professional obligation than a fun diversion, but I'm very glad I stopped in at the Bayanihan Community Center to see Amy Besa and Romy Dorotan. This wasn't your usual book event. Grandparents brought their grandkids, and Tagalog was spoken unabashedly. The tastings were generous--I enjoyed thirds on those adobo ribs--and there was much laughter in the air. Their discussion and demonstration were a powerful reminder of the way sharing recipes, memories, and food keep a community together over time and distance.

Amy and Romy's book, Memories of Philippine Kitchens, has been years in the making, and once you open the covers, you undertand immediately the amount of time and effort that went into gathering the stories. It's a rare example of a cookbook that encompasses geography, politics, culture, oral history, and excellent recipes in a book that is as beautiful as it is generous and loving. Publishers Stewart, Tabori & Chang did an excellent job with it; they allowed Amy to include the region's complex history, a multitude of photos, and a voice centered in her own community's experience rather than bent toward explaining her cuisine to non-Filipinos.

The book has sold out in nearly every store around the world, from Manila to London to San Francisco. Managers tell of readers standing in their store aisles, crying over the book. Its deep resonance with the Filipino diaspora speaks of the need for this book. Long overdue, Memories of Philippine Kitchens is the harbinger of a wider appreciation of a much misunderstood cuisine.

The husband and wife team opened their restaurant, Cendrillon, in Manhattan in 1995. Amy had fled Manila just weeks before martial law was declared in 1972, and in their youth, they were activists in the international Phillipines political movement. Romy's passion for food, however, led him to work in restaurants. It wasn't long before they decided to open their own restaurant highlighting Southeast Asian cuisines and then, of course, to begin writing this book.

If you're not familiar with Filipino food, then you're in for a treat. The fresh seafood; the fruity sour flavors that assert themselves again and again; and the amazing variety of noodles, soups and desserts--Filipino cuisine is one of the most fun to explore. Generosity at the table is a hallmark, and the laughing, singing and joking that accompany any gathering adds their own unique flavor to the food. Three dishes that any serious food lover must experience: a piquant peppery adobo, a kinilaw made with the day's catch, and a communal pot of sinigang.

Kilawing Tangigue: Generous amounts of ginger and scallion spike this fresh-from-the-sea kinilaw, one of the native dishes of the Philippines. (Photo by Bing Ramos)

The islands--over 7,000 of them--are home to centuries of intertwined communities. Native hunters, Chinese and Arab merchants, Malay empires with Muslim rulers, Indian laborers, and Spanish colonists followed by American soldiers have all left their mark on the country's culture. Revealing history in the kitchen, the cuisine itself reflects this pastiche of influences.

Northern and Southern California are home to the largest concentrations of Filipinos outside of Manila. From the first sailors who landed in Alta California to the Central Valley's agricultural workers, including Philip Vera Cruz, co-founder of the United Farm Workers, their history is integral to the successes of this state.

To learn more about the history, culture and cuisine of the Filipino community, visit:

Arkipelago Books
1010 Mission Street, San Francisco
(415) 553-8185
One of the city's gem of an indpendent bookstore, this packed space stocks any book ever written about the Philippines or Filipino Americans. I visit regularly to check in on their wonderful cooking and food section, which has hard-to-find books such as Beyond Rice, a stunningly beautiful book on the traditional cultivation of this important crop, and Kinilaw: A Philippine Cuisine of Freshness, an essential cookbook for any seafood lover. Another great find is the CD collection of Bay Area classical guitarist, Florante Aguilar, playing harana, traditional Filipino courtship serenades.

Bistro Luneta
615 Third Avenue, San Mateo
(650) 344-0041
A modern setting for Filipino cuisine, Bistro Luneta blends traditional flavors with contemporary techniques. While other Southeast Asian cuisines also appear on the menu, this is the place in the Bay Area to taste Filipino cuisine at its most vibrant.

Patio Filipino
1770 El Camino Real, San Bruno
(650) 872-9888 or (415) 810-9882
The menu at this restaurant highlights the Spanish influence on the country's cuisine. The house specialty is Paella Valenciana, but there's also an impressive list of sinigang soups and dishes with favorite ingredients, including kangkong leaves, milkfish, duck eggs, and pork in all its many yummy incarnations. They have a catering service, definitely worth trying for your next feasting event.

The Filipino American Arts Exposition
Dedicated to preserving and presenting Filipino arts and culture, the FAAE hosts the annual pistahan celebration at Yerba Buena.