New Friends. New Worlds. Everything In Between.

Under the licorice-black sky on a Friday, I was on our patio and drinking a bottle of soda that is so cold, it leaves pleasant pain in my throat that matched a more intense one in my heart. I was in the middle of a crossroad of choosing what I really wanted to do in my life. I was a nurse, but I dreamed of being a writer. I wanted to be both, but if I had to choose, which should win? After a few more minutes, my best friend called and asked me where I was.

“Home. Why?”

“Let’s go out. I'm bored. I'll pick you up”

“It’s 2 am. And dad's still up. He won't say yes”

I paused for a few seconds and added: “Which means I have to sneak out. Be here in 10.”

He arrived in 20. Typical.

We jumped into the car and started the trip, determined to find something impressive despite the obvious lack of proper planning. Eventually, we reached another city, and though it had the basic luxuries of the metropolis, the cozy atmosphere of provincial charm could definitely be felt.

The sky was changing from midnight blue into that of a lighter hue. As the first few rays of sunlight peeked, we noticed people setting up small stalls, and the notion of what they are sent my gustatory logic into a slight frenzy.

“Street food.” I said.

Specifically, quail adobo. We were quite astounded. Growing up in the idyllic suburbs, this was something that we hadn't encountered until that day. We took a whiff of its aroma and decided that we would love to have one.
The taste reminded me why adobo is a classic. And that classics reinvented once in a while.

Adobo is made by immersing pork or chicken in a marinade of garlic, salt, pepper, soy sauce, and vinegar for several hours to give the right blend of flavors. However, using quail made it more delicate and crispier, with the bones being penetrated by seasoning as much as the skin and the meat were.

It was an endearing dish. It was simple, yet superb. It was something more unusual, thus stands out quite well. Most importantly, it was still adobo to its core. Perhaps, it had different form, but it still had the essence of being the proudest float on the huge parade of Filipino dishes. It was still the culinary creation we love , but it was also a calculated risk that showed innovation.

Eating the tasty poultry was comforting, pacifying even. James then asked me what I plan to do next. I took a bite of my quail, and said, “I'll still be me to my very core, but I’ll take risks.”