We saw the PETA production of Bona last Sunday with Manny and Ren. We were told to come early—the only tickets left for the sold-out shows were balcony, free seating—so we decided to grab a bite nearby.
As we were unfamiliar with the dining options in the neighborhood, we landed at a Chinese restaurant chain that has fallen on hard times (Not Ma Mon Luk, which we still love). The waiter turned on the airconditioning as we took our seats, which should’ve been our cue to flee, but fond childhood memories of their dimsum kept us in our seats. Our beloved tausa pau (black bean) siopao had vanished from the menu so we ordered asado pao and siomai.
While we waited for our orders a cockroach crawled onto our ankle—another cue to flee, which we also ignored. (It was raining, we didn’t want to be late for the play.) We killed the cockroach before our friends could scream. Have we mentioned that we are the ipis slayer? We believe in squishing them with extreme prejudice. (The other PETA is welcome to write us on behalf of cockroach rights.) Ren asked the waiter very politely to take away the liquefied corpse. The waiter did this without comment.
The asado pao was steamed into goo, the hot sour soup Manny ordered was sweet, and Ren’s fish fillet with bean curd must’ve been microwaved on high because it was hot enough to vaporize your tongue. The portions were generous but given the food quality was this a positive? One got the distinct impression that a gang had broken into the restaurant then decided to keep it running.
After the play, which we enjoyed very much (All resemblance to Lino Brocka’s Bona are almost purely coincidental; this is not a dramatization but a reworking. It’s a comedy, and the acting makes it work. Review later. Watch it!), we walked to the parking lot at the nearby church and noted that there was a bath house and gay bar across the street, very convenient for the guilt-ridden.
Our default late night restaurant is Old Swiss Inn (at Somerset beside the Pen), where the chocolate fondue banished the memory of the gooey siopao, sweet soup and friendly insects. This midnight snack was spiced up by the conversation from another table, which began with the words “Anal stimulation is a very controversial topic” and moved on to erectile function and the urethra. We don’t think it was a convention of urologists, but the vocabulary was very refined.
When we got home we got a message from a friend who suddenly remembered that near the PETA theatre is Teresita’s of San Fernando, where “the kare-kare and halo-halo are to die for, best Php200 I’ve ever spent on food”. Argh.
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