Monday, January 30, 2023

A LETTER FROM BALI

Dear Sir,

Ratna's Devotion shows that she is ready to receive The Invitation from Ganesha to discard the colors of mourning and wear her jewelry again except her underwear because the Vikings in Valhalla don't do that and she needs flowing air to temper the wetness she felt for you and your hardness for her.   

Yours is almost My Wriggly Friend whom Ratna adored and pampered with a casserole of river snails from Guilin and beef sapie from Wugang that were lard-stirred with mutton and seafood then boiled by an old friend in chicken soup and cattail root before being served in a cloth of rice noodles, Tengchong rice lumps and rice pellets that were harvested at the Tegalalang Rice Terraces here in Ubud.



She ate her meals on the kitchen floor after serving you the violent pork kidneys she restrained with beef and pig entrails then stuffed in a braised crucian carp head that fed on mushrooms grown on a Korean claypot in Yunnan and yet, her widowed passion stirred your depressed loins like a shot of whiskey spiking the wine and beer of the airport lounge in Manila where the Thursday Group convened on Monday for a sour cabbage dressed in chicken oil and the Tuesday Group had tofu fish and Gangshan lamb brisket on Wednesday, variations of douchi-flavored poon choi that became famous as the bobo dish of rock stars and the murderous Huns with silver nose earings that are depicted in the oil paintings and wood carvings of Ubud as connoisseurs of kopi luwak.   




She is the MILF of Bakal 2, widowed and deserted at the same time who now Hunt for gratification by interpreting babi guling into four ways: plain and dressed in sambal, battered and fried, sausaged blood and crispy skin with vegetable soup and lawar on the side as presented at the Warung Babi Guling Ibu Oca for the great and the late Anthony Bourdain whom Ratna will rub forever.

 
In parting, I urge you to to ask Ratna to remove her dupatta but you yourself should take off her choli to prove that the only person she ever nursed is her deceased husband, then feel through her lehenga to confirm that there's nothing underneath and that no human has ever passed there before, or she would be forever humping through the trails with the Phantom Biker.    


Truly yours,

Codename: Emperor

Monday, January 23, 2023

MY 53 YEARS

Longer Nights
sleep ushered by Japanese TV shows
yellow pee missing the chamber pot

Golden Years 
how many left for the good times
the sun should set without regrets     

Seven Seconds
eight cases, 10 dishes, 25 friends
17 more years (at least) on top of 53 


Epicure
inihaw, kinilaw, paksiw, adobo, sisig
thinned cholesterol streaming

Bibulous
light, pilsen, extra strong and brandy
pickled liver and kidneys holding

Resurgence
Thor's Day Sexify birthday leftovers  
a riposte steeped in warm cognac 


The Makanai
The Recruit "Cooking for the Maiko House"
9 years in the trails to stay alive

Monday, January 16, 2023

HAI[na]KU 57-59 Decoded

Taco Chronicles
gone too soon from Morato
The Playlist of food

TRANSLATION: The pizza tasted of Clarita's delectable rot poured over delicate fried ribs and a false Korean sinuglao that was presented as an authentic pares in the aisle of a Florida bus bound to Cubao and Sampaloc.



sisig From Scratch
buro will always Take Point
like raw chicken feet

TRANSLATION: The Craft struck out in Maimpis but stole a base at the Capitol who licensed Aling Lucing to garnish her sisig with inihaw na bangus, buro, chicharong bulaklak and a paksiw na tilapia from Where the Crawdads Sing 


Traitors for dinner
fried dumplings, canned sausage, friends 
I Came By and left

TRANSLATION: A Collateral of nilagang baka failed to save a dry Friday night despite the fried dumplings, steamed siomai and 4 days of burning the residues of boozing with a string of cheap barbecue and chunks of kalderetang kambing.    


Monday, January 09, 2023

THE PASSAGE

We were 1000 Miles from Christmas, not in the small village of Valverde or to escape from A Storm for Christmas because that happened in Oslo, nor were we running away from Christmas Land and Christmas on Mistletoe Farm in Cobbledon or wishing for a A Christmas Miracle for Daisy in Montana.

We were on an El Camino Christmas travelling 353 kilometers from Singapore to Kuala Lumpur on Christmas day where I was again happily Shooting Churches (mosques and temples), Eating Noodles (char siew+roasted pork+beef brisket noodles, hor fun, curry chicken bee hon, fried kway teow mee, pork noodle, fishball noodle, roast duck noodle, Hookien mee, seashell noodle).


That was The Roundup and the sisig, balut and tuna sashimi that led out 2022 while reheated lechon belly and deep fried mushrooms welcomed 2023 with a bowl of uncooked rice adorned with 20-peso coins and a red egg.



But the Lodge has become a Glass Onion, A Knives Out Mystery where friendship was sacrificed for the farce intramurals of Alice in Wonderland in the year of The Snowman and a night of day-old sisig and microwaved frozen ham. 

Ngayon Kaya? 

Will the The Takeover be construed by Sue Perkins to be Perfectly Legal like the The Pale Blue Eye of a bland litsong baka, a delicate litsong baboy, coagulating pinispisan and tinumis, and a shivering kalderetang kambing that were seasoned with a barrage of Johnny Walker Black and the cold wind of January 7?



Across 5 days, the Phantom Biker led out the tired Tiger to get lost in the biking trails of Munoz, San Jose, Lupao, Guimba and Sto. Domingo so the arriving Rabbit can fearlessly frolic in its place, although the Tiger can always smell its way to the Rabbit to devour it, and the Rabbit can always run away...