It’s the time of the year for bibingka and puto bumbong — but it’s the everyday taste of Manila that truly brings me home.
Tonight, it was balut. My sister and I were waiting for the kids to return from a screening of Arthur Christmas when I heard the call resonate from somewhere down the street. I called back.. and before I knew it, I was sitting down enjoying the juicy delicacy of you know what. (No sense grossing out the uninitiated.)
I wasn’t always a fan of balut but learned to savor its delicate and filling flavor back in the day when law books kept me company into the wee hours of the morning. Did it have a placebo effect on me, I wonder. I, of course, was one of the many believers that it gave you stamina. As they say it in the vernacular, pampatigas ng tuhod. But now I simply love it for its taste. Plus the fact that while they are offered by some Asian and Filipino stores back in the big apple, they are not quite as flavorful nor as enjoyable coming from a cloth lined basket from whence it came tonight. Yum!
I waited for the taho vendor this morning but he did not come — probably owing to the heavy rains. Maybe I’ll get lucky tomorrow. Sure hope so!