Most times, I don’t know what day it is. And I’m not talking about the “A Map of Saturday” romantic kind of not knowing. It’s the clueless, ‘really, it’s that day already?!?’ kind of deal. If I’m lucky, I know what day it is in the week, but unless I glance over that calendar icon on my laptop or my phone, or facebook tells me it’s somebody’s birthday today, I’d never know where we are in the month.
At least, I have facebook. I know it’s Christmas when I see Noche Buena and annual family portraits in front of a Christmas tree posts. I know it’s the new year when I see fireworks, or “new year, new me” posts. Or, like in the eve leading to 2015 posts, wine in wine glasses, because my friends are aging. I am grateful for facebook. Also, in that line, facebook lets you know Lent is coming when…
One, people start giving up something.
Rice is the most usual casualty. However, it’s also makes people highly doubtful whether it’s really due for sacrifice or for weightloss. Some people give up facebook… but not before announcing it on Facebook. That one baffles me, but to each his own.
For three years in a row, I tried abstaining from meat for 39 days. And you know how much I love meat. Third day is usually a hump day, but after that, I breeze thru the rest of Lent. The husband, however, for 3 years was having trouble dealing with it. We love eating out, but it’s not his idea of a fun time come Lenten Season. We have nowhere to eat and if we do find some place where I can order something, the first 3 minutes of the meal is spent me picking off bits of meat in a supposedly meatless dish. Palaboks are particularly traydors.
At Easter, being raised Catholic, I look forward to Christ rising again, and eventually, I’m not gonna lie, eating meat. It would be a shock if I had not literally dreamed of meat before Palm Sunday. My body usually gets its first dose of meat Easter lunch and one time, since my body was not used to digesting meat for the last 6 weeks, it revolted come Easter night. Served me right for trying to eat chicharon bulaklak, inihaw na liempo and sinigang na baboy in one sitting. When it comes to food, sometimes, I get a little too carried away.
And/or, Tuna pie!
I love everything on the Jollibee’s poptart-on-steriods range. Peach mango pie is on regular rotation. There’s a Jollibee branch where my bus stops and I get my final jeepney ride on. Whenever I had a long day, I casually drop in and the ever-shrinking Peach Mango pie is waiting for me piping hot off the counter, ready to comfort me and tell me ‘there, there… it’s okay now’.
I loved it when they released a choco mallow version. But my favorite was the banana langka pie, which I don’t know why they pulled off their menu. It’s the Philippines. I’m sure all those peaches were canned, but we have bananas and jackfruit everywhere. Who do I need to talk to to convince them to resurrect that “turon but better” pie? I am going to write a letter — or start a petition on Change.org. I invite you to join my worthwhile cause.
Then, there’s always one day in the year that suddenly you start seeing Tuna Pie popping up on your facebook feed. Of course, the first thing that goes thru and blows your mind is, “Meron na ulit tuna pie?!?”. Of course, this also means every other restaurant now have their Lenten offerings out. Lent is upon us. But we still need to eat.
Jollibee’s tuna pie to me is like McDonald’s twister fries is to other people. I get irrationally excited about it. I know it’s just canned meat in fried pastry. Just like I don’t understand why people get off from a differently shaped fries. But I have to have it. And I make sure I infect everybody with my eagerness and get them to be irrationally excited about it too just to validate my feelings — that the tuna pie is amazeballs.
…I am just going to ignore my suspicions if there’s actual tuna there. Cheese, yes. Tuna, meh. But yes, tuna pie, please continue to lie to me.