Barbecue of Roses
A century ago– meaning some weeks ago in the regulations of blogging– I hung out with fellow high school bums Yayi and Ralph, and altogether hunted for the mouth-watering barbecue of Tower Café. It was an effort to quell my personal issues with being a lost, rudderless graduate. They too were as quite as anxious about… I dunno. Yeah, the things we do to lick our wounds. BBQ=FTW.
Only holy barbecue relieves us! Only barbecue from Tower!
Don’t question why I was overreacting. See, the legendary canteen was city-famous for the said bbq, being strategically located near St. Paul Cathedral. It had the irresistible, burnt whiff of lean, grilled meat for those who were too hungry to sing one more Hosanna verse. Then it got demolished about 10 years ago to give way for the pseudo heritage-inspired fastfood chains and malls, and got transferred to another place. That’s WHY I’m overreacting.
Thus that same time, I dragged Ralph and Yayi and went to that place. Later, we all discovered that Tower’s Cafe 2.0 was long gone. Disappointing. So inevitably, we just gorged on empanada and some barbecue prototype that were sold at the famed Plaza Burgos to alleviate our betrayed childhood and culture.
Days and weeks later (I love my vacation), the crowd got larger quite upon having the Kathy, now a college teacher, and Keneth, fresh from his Mandarin course in China (How Chinese could he get?!). Went to Irene’s last last weekend, and savored one-of-a-kind Ilocos empanada. Sweit!
PS I went to the third-generation Tower Cafe somewhere in del Pilar Street in Vigan, only to learn that their barbecue’s gone! I died. Now why am I overreacting?