So I walked around a lot today.
And I found myself waiting for a cab in front of Paris Delice on Makati Avenue. While I was waiting, I thought a lot about nipping in to give their nutella beignet another chance – because, surely, the first time I had it, it wasn’t a fluke. And the second, third, fourth, and nth time that they tasted like shit, surely, they didn’t mean it.
YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE FASTING.
I decided to forget about the cab and walk. I walked past McDonald’s, where I wondered if I could still get a Sausage McMuffin…
YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE FASTING.
I kept on walking. I walked past the Pacific Star Building, where I recalled Au Bon Pain’s chocolate croissants and wondered if I should check out what sugar-laden treats were available at the Starbucks that now occupied its space…
YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE FASTING.
I kept on walking. I walked past two Krispy Kremes, craning my neck both times, hoping to catch a whiff of something that would lure me in, while walking faster just the same…
YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE FASTING.
I walked and walked. Until I got to HSBC’s headquarters at the Enterprise Building and got down to business.
I was so chuffed that I sorted out all my banking errands in record time that, as I was trying to figure out the quickest way to my salon appointment, I remembered that my first encounter with Paris Delice’s nutella beignet was at the small stall that they have at the Enterprise Building’s food court. On a hunch, I thought, “What if…???”
I can always fast tonight and skip dinner, right???
GOOD THINKING, WONDER DOG.
Feeling like a sleuth on a case, I scrambled up the stairs, made my way across the food court, stopped for half a dozen peanut butter and semi-sweet chocolate empanadas (- shut up, these things happen!), then found Paris Delice’s stall at the very end of the food court.
“One nutella beignet, please.”
Sure enough, as soon as I took a bite, there it was – that perfect blend of soft, chewy doughnut melting perfectly into gooey nutella. I had to close my eyes in reverence and let out an involuntary, “Holy mother of god”… as opposed to the “What the fuck is this?” that I had uttered too many times at their main cafe on Makati Avenue.
So there.
I still have no idea what the hell a beignet is (although I do realize that knowledge is just a Google-click away, but you can damn well do that for yourselves, can’t you?) and I have no clue what goes on between the cafe (where all the nutella beignets are made) and the stall at the Enterprise Building, but some weird sort of alchemy turns something hopelessly inedible into something wonderfully sublime. No, I haven’t solved the mystery but at least now we know where to get the good stuff.
Beam me up, Scotty!
Oh, you know what was a fluke? That 51.9 kilos from yesterday. I do know how to bounce back from an illness, don’t I? And bounce I will. All the way to freakin’ Blimp Ville.
GAI OLIVARES, BACK AWAY FROM THE SNICKERS BARS.
I didn’t fast tonight either. Blood tests tomorrow and I can’t overfast. Although that was the original intent, wasn’t it? To measure the effects of intermittent fasting on my health. But I seem to have gotten lost along the way and have no idea why I am still even doing the bloody tests.