THE TON IN MANILA

We are le bon ton but not in a snubbish upper 10,000 way.

In fact, only one of us feel and act as the landed gentry of Oxford and was absent when we were celebrating successes at the pool of The B Hotel.

And the success that Queen Charlotte narrated as A Bridgerton Story tasted much like sisig, kare-kare, gambas, kalderatang baka and the empty tables of the HidN Lounge.

In a subsequent reflection session just after a deluge hit Limbaga 77 Cafe and Restaurant, I realized that G2 approaches and strategies are in fact a menu of results that hinted of sweet and sour fish, strengths in the form of spicy seafood adobo, and weaknesses wafting with bistek tagalog although the influence that swayed our diverse stakeholders is a serving of kaldereta with a dash of women's economic empowerment, a tray of inihaw na liempo garnished with climate change resilience, and a sampler of tokwa't baboy, crispy shrimps and crablets swimming in a dip of inclusive business.

There was a lot of closures.

And it was being redundant so we left the contract requirements for a fried chicken, the workplan for a crispy pata, a lumpiang shanghai checklist, and the technical sustainability plan for a tuna sisig at the mercy of tuneless echoes emanating from the corners of the Music Match Family KTV.

As we segued into the design workshop, vegetarian chop suey, adobong manok and bangus belly were identified as the thematic areas of focus at Pepeton's Grill where grilled tuna belly, bicol express and kapalmuks were also passionately discussed as the value chains of the night when Vietnam drew with Thailand at the 32nd Southeast Asian Games. 

Finally, a theory of change was sketched with cheese sticks from a palette of nachos and key interventions as a regional strategy inspired a plate of buffalo wings to build a nest in My Brother's Moustache.

Meanwhile in The Last Kingdom, it was prophecied that Seven Kings Must Die and two already did with the third one passing peacefully to the other side on Friday morning.

That and a clogged nose somehow took out the zing from the cheesy Cali Pizza, enticed a tequila shot and a bottle of wine at HidN Bar, and opened bottles of Red Horse and the microphone at Dekada Bar and Grill where the world was told to fuck off by Heneral Luna who went berserk in the churchyard.