Me, as five dishes
Got this from Ailene —
- Batang-batang manok by my lolo and lola
I was 6, maybe 7, spending my Summer hundreds of kilometers from my parents. I would wake up in my lolo’s house and take the rest of the day playing on the streets. When the sun goes down, my lolo would look for me and — to entice me home — say that our dinner is batang-batang manok.
I would salivate over the thought of this juicy, fried spring chicken, ready for me after a hard day of playing. I would take my lolo’s enormous hands, alternately skipping and dragging him to walk faster. When we get home, he brings me to the table and — with a twinkle in his eyes and flourish in his hands—give me a bowl of rice topped with fried egg.
“San po yung chicken?” I would ask, and in his booming voice would say, “Ayan! Hindi ba’t batang-batang manok yan?” My lola would laugh. I would laugh. And like everything about them and about that Summer, I would love that fried egg for the rest of my days.
2. Lasagna by my mother
I woke up at 10 am, and find a note by my mother that there’s a whole tray of newly baked lasagna by the oven. I hunker down, and without even bothering to get a plate, begin eating.
Neither the tastiness of the meat nor the gooeyness of the cheese succeeds in rousing me from the barrage of conflicting scenarios in my head — every single one worse than the last. My girlfriend is two weeks late, and I have no idea what to do.
I look up from my daze and it’s already 11:45; more than 3/4 of the lasagna is gone. I hurriedly rise to take a bath. I have a 12:30 class.
I would have loved to finish high school.
3. Mixed Toppings from Thai Canteen (Balara)
My friend John and I have been waiting for 80 minutes now. We came from the Christmass (Christian Mass Communicators) tambayan, rode the Toki, got off at ROMVLO HALL and walked the rest of the way to the famous Thai Canteen in Balara. “You’re going to love this,” he said.
Maybe, I conceded. The line was looooong, it was noon, I was hungry, and I still had readings to photocopy for my Film 104 class. I was going to suggest somewhere else to eat, but the aroma of Mama Thai’s cooking already reached me at the end of the long line. Maybe this is worth the wait.
We finally get our chance after more than an hour of waiting. In those days, Mama Thai still cooked each dish after you order — hence the long wait. Even before I dove into my plate, the smells I would later associate with anything Thai did me in. Finally, I took a bite.
How do you describe objective gastro-perfection? It was spicy without burning your tongue, just hot enough to make you scoop more and more and more. The Thai fish sauce enhanced the sweet-spicy blend of vegetables, chicken, beef, and squid. The dark, thick soup dripping on your rice made sure every bite was a pilgrimage for your soul.
A fool I have been to eat anything else while Mixed Toppings was in the world.
We finish eating in less than 15 minutes; you don’t really masticate Mama Thai’s dishes — you inhale it.
4. 1pc Jollibee beef steak
It’s a Sunday morning, and while most people sleep in, you’re already in line by 7am. The rest of the battalion prepare to execute formations that will — somehow — help you defend this country should the need arise. You call yourselves ‘BlackHawks’, shout some funny/inane chant as you spend about five hours under the sun, turning the UP Sunken Garden into mud with thousands of feet marching as one.
Welcome to the ROTC.
Finally, the officer says you’re dismissed, and you can’t wait to have lunch before you take the 2–3 hour bus ride home (NLEX hasn’t been built yet, and the North Diversion Road traffic was ALWAYS horrible).
But it’s Sunday, and your weekly allowance has almost run out, and springing for a 2nd piece of Jollibee beef steak might be dangerous in case you need to buy water or something on the way home. On a few occasions (when you have a little extra), you walk from the UP Sunken Garden to Jollibee Philcoa so you have enough money for chickenjoy.
You laugh with Goryo — your Engineering friend who’s with you every Sunday, every step, every shout, every sweat. He’s worried about a Math17 exam, you barely passed Math1 and that’s one of the reasons why you’re in MassCom. He’s a DOST scholar. Your scholarship was from PDI.
Someday, you both swear, life would be better.
5. Filipinos dishes I cooked while in Switzerland
There’s only so much pizza, pasta, raclette, or even cheese fondue that I can eat before my Asian stomach can no longer deny the call of home. The wife, sensing I’m about to lose my mind, encourages me to dare to cook. “Just look for recipes in the internet” she says.
So I did. Sinigang. Nilaga. Sisig. Tapa inspired by Rodic’s. Lechong kawali. Chopseuy. When I got that in the bag, I began to expand. Homemade tocino. Shrimp kebab. Halabos na alimasag. Some spinach dish the wife requests. Panlasang Pinoy was heaven-sent. If that fails, there’s always mama to check with.
The air is insanely clean, the public transport system runs like clockwork, the country is ridiculously safe, and MY GOD IT’S UNFAIR HOW BEAUTIFUL Switzerland is, but they sure do suck when it comes to cooking Asian food.
Luckily, I don’t.