Monday is flat noodle breakfast with pork sausage, a bowl of Thai rice porridge and a half day of going back to adaptive management for effective influencing and catching up on Rodrigo Barahona's measurement of digital influencing.
The night was still restless as Tuesday dawned and jerky bacon got inducted into a plate of Chinese stir-fried noodles so I decided to stick my morning fare with latte and apple juice, and my dinner in the street corner deli with a big green bottle of Chang after a day of more adaptive management.
Wednesday is just plain "Wow!" as the Japanese invaded and layered my lunch buffet plate with a dollop of cold soba, strips of pink salmon sushi and red tuna sashimi, and sublime slices of duck breast while the people in the Autumn Room segued from capturing the sentiment in media monitoring to chasing tactics effectiveness monitoring and untangling the convoluted lines and circles of social network analysis.
I moved from the comforts of Room 5074 to the shared space of Room 5071 on Thursday when the meat balls were dumped on a bed of rice noodles, the wrestling match between direct, indirect and future beneficiaries tumbling from the Chatrium into a duel between plain grilled pork neck or papaya salad with pork neck, both served ablaze with masticated bird's eye chilli.
That was the case until Friday mercifully came, as bored and tired as the oglio e olio that was as mercifully salvaged by a side of shrimp and duck salad and the bowl of vanilla ice cream that always top my every lunch at Albricias, plus the fact that it's all over and I'm finally flying back to Manila.
And I say all of that fancy pansit from palatial Chatrium's cavernous buffet hall can never eclipse the pansit palabok Komrad Bong served during his despedida on a Saturday afternoon in Bacal 1, the star amidst a culinary nobility of warek-warek, crisp fried crablets and mountain stream goby, frozen tuna sashimi lathered in lethal wasabi, the usual dynamite and shanghai, and goat head boiled to gelatinous softness it was almost heaven.
That I tried to burn with Balong on a Sunday morning that unfortunately concluded with a ton of lechon, goat caldereta, duck tinungkoy, chicken tinola, squid adobo, milkfish relleno, beer sub-zero, and that small plate of pansit guisado which every true blue pinoy must serve on their birthdays.
The night was still restless as Tuesday dawned and jerky bacon got inducted into a plate of Chinese stir-fried noodles so I decided to stick my morning fare with latte and apple juice, and my dinner in the street corner deli with a big green bottle of Chang after a day of more adaptive management.
Wednesday is just plain "Wow!" as the Japanese invaded and layered my lunch buffet plate with a dollop of cold soba, strips of pink salmon sushi and red tuna sashimi, and sublime slices of duck breast while the people in the Autumn Room segued from capturing the sentiment in media monitoring to chasing tactics effectiveness monitoring and untangling the convoluted lines and circles of social network analysis.
I moved from the comforts of Room 5074 to the shared space of Room 5071 on Thursday when the meat balls were dumped on a bed of rice noodles, the wrestling match between direct, indirect and future beneficiaries tumbling from the Chatrium into a duel between plain grilled pork neck or papaya salad with pork neck, both served ablaze with masticated bird's eye chilli.
That was the case until Friday mercifully came, as bored and tired as the oglio e olio that was as mercifully salvaged by a side of shrimp and duck salad and the bowl of vanilla ice cream that always top my every lunch at Albricias, plus the fact that it's all over and I'm finally flying back to Manila.
And I say all of that fancy pansit from palatial Chatrium's cavernous buffet hall can never eclipse the pansit palabok Komrad Bong served during his despedida on a Saturday afternoon in Bacal 1, the star amidst a culinary nobility of warek-warek, crisp fried crablets and mountain stream goby, frozen tuna sashimi lathered in lethal wasabi, the usual dynamite and shanghai, and goat head boiled to gelatinous softness it was almost heaven.
That I tried to burn with Balong on a Sunday morning that unfortunately concluded with a ton of lechon, goat caldereta, duck tinungkoy, chicken tinola, squid adobo, milkfish relleno, beer sub-zero, and that small plate of pansit guisado which every true blue pinoy must serve on their birthdays.
