Last night I partook of a dish they call "Bicol Express." My poor tongue still burns.

I was, again, alone on a Friday night. After reading through an e-book of Dan Brown's Da Vinci Code, I was faced with one of the greatest dilemmas of my day: where to have dinner.

I contemplated taking a jeepney to Jollibee over at Mango Avenue, then remembered I had a hotdog sandwich and french fries for lunch. I didn't think I could stand the sight and smell of more fries. Well, there was Greenwich right beside Jollibee. I thought, Perhaps I'll have some pizza instead, or my favorite Wacky Wings. Hope they haven't run out of Java rice.

I stood at the curb, waiting, but there was not a single jeepney in sight.

Finally I decided to have my dinner at a nearby cafe, a mere 5-minute walk from where I was, and save myself a 6-peso fare.

I ended up eating a combo meal of grilled pork belly, softdrinks, and Bicol Express, at a place called Cafe Le Grand Soleil.

The incongruity of it struck me in the middle of my meal, and if it wasn't for the dim lighting, people would have wondered what was wrong with me snickering all by myself.

Imagine going to cafe with such a name, and ordering something that's so totally unrelated to that very name? Cafe Le Grand Soleil -- it shouts of carbonara and bolognese and more pasta -- but instead I went ahead and ordered a Filipino combo meal. If one eats at a cafe with such a grand name, one should at least order one of the grand items on the menu, any of their grand specialties. But what the heck, I'm a Pinoy, and Pinoys happen to love combo meals. Hehehe. =P

Well, it was on the menu, after all. A customer can choose what he wants to eat, however incongruous, as long as it's on the menu, aight?

Back to the Bicol Express. I knew there was a dish by that name, but I had actually forgotten what it was like. So here I go, asking the waitress, Unsa gani nang Bicol Express? (What's Bicol Express again?)

She goes, Ku-an, hang na siya (Well, it's spicy). Right. How very helpful, thank you very much. The only other dish I could exchange it with was cucumber salad, and I am not a big fan of cucumber (unless they're used to soothe eye bags). Plus, I like spicy food anyway.

So here comes my food. I stare at the so-called Bicol Express, squinting in the very subdued lighting. It looks like munggos (bean soup). Only, they seemed to be rather large munggo beans. I mixed it up with my spoon. They weren't munggo beans. They looked very much like loosely chopped green sili (pepper), you know those long ones you put in inun-unan (steamed fish...or is it stewed?)?

It can't be that spicy. I dumped a generous helping onto my rice and spooned a mouthful. It's freaking spicy as hell!

Well, to make this rather long story short, I survived the Bicol Express with a slightly burnt tongue and several funny thoughts in my head. My poor tongue, it got quite a baptism of fire. Literally.