THE PANSITING

All the world's a pansit.

Birthdays and funerals, weddings and baptismals, fiestas and reunions, anniversaries, breakfast, lunch, dinner, merienda and lockdown food packs.

Mula Mavulis hanggang Saluag. 

Pansit, the original Pinoy fast food, has come a long way from the "pian e sit" sold by the panciteros and panciterias of old.

And I was the Pansit Man on sabbatical, shooting churches and eating noodles who in the time of the quarantine was called on to cook sotanghon with pork meat balls on Sunday, prep up for the wife's pancit canton on Monday, experiment on pasta with ragu on Tuesday, dare for a miki Abra on Wednesday, finally landed bihon guisado on Thursday, reinvent La Paz batchoy on Friday and ride for pansit-kanin on Saturday.

All for breakfast and to honor the last week of the 103rd Giro d'Italia and the first week of the 75th La Vuelta a Espana.

Tao Geoghengan Hart ITT-ied to pink at the last stage of the Giro so I asked Enola Holmes in England if Tao is indeed the next generation of British cycling.

"Shut the fuck up!" retorted Manuel and Driss who firmly believe that Wout van Aert will rule not just Belgium but the world.

They will be close enemies, the Ineos Grenadier versus a yellow bird from Jumbo-Visma, intense but mute like Siva and Regatta's dark drama because football is preferred over cycling in the slums of Singapore and Egypt, an enigma as tragic as the treasure and forbidden love stories of Hatshepsut and Senenmut during the 18th Dynasty, Ali and Zainab in the Ottoman period, and General Bishr and Naemat before the Revolution of 1952.

Ramkant played cricket in the hills of Jitvapur and dreamed of Umrika in Mumbai where he was smuggled in a cargo ship but ended up in Taichung, toiling with A-Ho under a sun in the sprawling grounds of the world's largest bike manufacturer whose Giant Revel will bring uncertain glory to the future of Spanish cycling: Max Soler who is a progeny of Luis through Trini, and Enric Mas who was descended from Soleras through the Carlana. 

I am the Phantom Biker and these are my stories in the time of Covid-19.

ABNORMAL

My normal is now abnormal. 

Like Inspector Danladi Waziri commemorating October 1 by baptizing Prince Aderopo with the blood of Akote's virgins.

Kurt Prank being pickled in a barrel of the Hoflingers' beer to be served as the main course for Munich's Oktoberfest.

A craving for raw human tapas setting off the vengeful fury of a patient man called Jose in Madrid.

The Hezbollah creating Ziad Haddad as a very big short project to infiltrate Beirut's film industry and politics.

Aviv becaming uncircumcised as heroes fly from Tel Aviv to Bogota to honor the tender love of Benda and Maria.

Because abnormal is now the norm in Bakal 2. 

The Phantom Bikers withdrew from 220th Oktoberfest and the 103rd edition of the Giro d'Italia to race in Season 2 of the Taco Chronicles for the prize of a birria in Jalisco, a pescado in Ensenada, suadero in Mexico City, cochinita in the Yucatan, cabrito in Santiago, American Taco in Orange County and burrito in Ciudad Juarez.

But they took a wrong turn and ended with siopao and Mountain Dew from a 7-11 store in Abar 2nd.  

OKTOBERFEST

Whatever virus we brought with us from my first trip to Manila in 7 months was fried by a liter of Johnny Walker Black in Cabanatuan, instantly I pray and not like a slow death from hunger in the camps of the Khmer Rouge who killed Loung Ung's father, Matt and Alejandro blown on the day of the soldado and I with J&B Rare that hopefully neutralized possible contamination during Kuya Boy's birthday bash in Bagong Sikat, Kabir triumphant in his duel with Tanveer to emerge as the sole bard of blood in Balochistan which culminated in a fellowship of fried meat and Double Black after we were handed our Past Master's jackets and before the pandemic finally descended in Bakal 2. 

I wonder if Sylvie's 5-layer sandwich and wild game barbecue of seared elk or Rasheed's barbecue combo and Argentinian asado are compatible with whiskey, or if Tina's 4th of July lamb kebab and ribs will go well with the extra strong beer of our Thursday Club. 

I'm sure Kuya Aztec's lamay-fare of kalderetang kambing and inihaw na tilapia easily upended Rasheed and Tina's old school barbecue of smoked salmon and goat leg one alcohol-free night in Pantabangan, although Tina's whole hog and brisket would be judged as the best in the finale of the American barbecue showdown in Georgia as the Phantom Bikers endured a goto in San Felipe that is as bland as the Giro d' Italia after Miguel Angel Lopez and Geraint Thomas crashed out and Simon Yates fell to Covid-19. 

SALT, FAT, ACID, HEAT

The FAT of Liguria (olive oil, prosciutto, parmesan) makes food delicious, SALT from Kama-kamagari (moshio, miso, soy sauce) brings life to food, ACID sourced in Oxkutzcab (sour oranges, lime, Melipona) balances the flavors, and the HEAT of  Chez Penisse in California (grill, roast, simmer) transform food from raw to cooked. 

Yes indeed although Samin Nosrat's tahdig is actually glorified tutong and I have doubts if it will go well with the acidic flavor of sinigang and papaitan or the sugar-tempered saltiness of tiim, all glistening with meat fat, all cooked in a mild simmering heat including the grilled liempo for the tokwa't baboy, all prepared by Jayson to celebrate the resumption of our labors, albeit sanitized, masked, shielded and gloved.   

In another part of the world, DCP Vatika Chaturvedi's task force was rewarded with ice creams for solving a heinous Delhi crime while in Pretoria, Solomon Mahangu (aka Kalushi) was forced fed with apples and tomatoes just for being black. 

But it was too early for lomi so The Phantom Bikers retreated to the usual aroskaldo as Kalifa's rap danced in Jinn's beat, Sara's forsaken cop life etched in alcohol bottles that adorn the Skylines of Frankfurt as Filippo Ganna and Diego Ulissi won the first two stages of the 103rd Giro d'Italia in Palermo and Agrigento, respectively.