Whew! Finally managed to finish uploading all the photos from my Chinese New Year trip. Now I can start blogging.
So Chinese New Year this year was spent in Cebu and Bohol. Marlon and had originally not planned to take any days off apart from the Monday and Tuesday public holidays, so we figured somewhere with a direct flight from Singapore and minimum land travel was our best bet. Thus, Cebu and its ferry-able neighbor, Bohol. But then both my clients and design team decided to disappear for the rest of the week, prompting me to do the same. So a four-day holiday stretched out into a full week, which we discovered, was just about right.
Kate generously offered us a place at her house in Talamban, which was like staying at a boutique hotel or b&b for free. (Check out the guest house, on the left.) Not to mention her family fed us like pigs for slaughter. Her stepdad is an amazing cook, and it was a particularly sore regret we couldn't stay for his homemade lechon since we had to go off to Bohol the next day.
It was at Kate's family's table that I had my first taste of Cebu lechon. We woke up at noon on Saturday to find that Kate's mom had ordered Rico's Lechon for us.
Now, pork is my second least favorite animal product to eat, after eggs. I've only had lechon twice in my life, and those were forgettable affairs where I had to eat it or starve, because it was one of only a few items on a buffet. When I tried it, I didn't get what was so great about it, so I've stayed away from lechon since then.
My taste buds must have known what they were doing, because apparently they've been saving themselves for Cebu lechon all along. Like innocent young maidens saving themselves for The One, my taste buds turned into complete whores who couldn't get enough after the first taste. That first encounter with the salty, savory sinfulness of Cebu lechon set the tone for the rest of our stay in Cebu.
If it had been humanly possible to eat for 36 hours straight, until we finally set off for Tagbilaran, I'm sure we would have found a way to do it. As it turned out, sightseeing and shopping were only stop-gap activities meant to kill time until the next meal. It was definitely a disservice to Cebu to see only the Santo Nino Basilica, the Cebu Cathedral, and Ayala Center -- one we eagerly attempted to make amends for by sampling as much of its culinary delights as we could in only four mealtimes.
Kinilaw is one of my three favorite Pinoy dishes of all time (it's right up there with adobo and salpicao), and Cebu is its home. In honor of this glorious fact, I had kinilaw twice in as many days -- once at Jo's Inato (a Cebuano version of chicken inasal), and another time at Chika-an, two fantastic Filipino restaurants on Salinas Drive in Lahug. For me, big, pink tender chunks of tanigue with the jaw-clenching sweet-sourness of coconut vinegar are a combination that's tough to beat.
Speaking of Jo's Inato, that's where I met up with Gids for dinner. He was in town to conduct a performance with an orchestra (his first!). I can't put my finger on what was so special about Jo's chicken inato, but I couldn't stop eating! I am not normally a bottomless rice kinda gal, but I swear I must have had about three helpings of rice that evening! It was Gids who recommended Chika-an (over the Cebu classic, Golden Cowrie) and we were not disappointed at all when we went there for lunch on Sunday.
Anthony Bourdain's anointed "Best. Pig. Ever" was a must on our list, and we managed to get a bit of Marketman's acupunctured Zubuchon on Sunday. There was barely anyone at Banilad Town Center, so the staff even gave us bits of crunchy skin for free! We snuck our package of lechon into Chika-an for lunch and had it with their bottomless rice. Sarap! I am not a pig lover but I ate so much of it sumakit ang batok ko pagkatapos. To be fair to Chika-an, we ordered a host of other stuff -- their monggo soup in particular is creamy and rich, something the miserably thin monggo soups of your childhood could only dream of becoming after seven lifetimes of settling karmic debt. I suspect it's cooked like Indian dal, with cream and butter.
We also tried out Oh Georg! at Ayala Center, and it was a struggle to make space for this wonderfully sticky toffee pudding. But for this dense, moist cake with its smoky sweetness of ever-so-slightly burnt toffee, the "struggle" was worth it.
After 36 hours of such frenetic eating, I was afraid of stepping onto the Supercat to Tagbilaran lest I single-handedly sink it with my weight. But to paraphrase the old adage: those who eat and sail away, return to eat another day...
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