5- Rice, Please.

In the Philippines, rice is king, and in a lot of ways, people judge whether to go to a restaurant or not, for practical reasons, on whether the joint offers "Rice to Sawa, or, "UnliRice", or, "Unlimited Steamed Rice".

Unlimited rice tends to sacred. Local fare tends to be "best eaten" with a heaping pile of rice. Be in fried catfish, tamarind soup, or roast suckling pig (lechon de leche), rice is the recognized appetizer, on the road stuffer, and coup de grace.

I am not going to go technical on different kinds of rice and how the Rice Terraces Plantation in Banaue, Philippines is a agricultural wonder. I will echo a much simpler message which is the sentiment of many-man, woman, child, diabetic, health buff, diet freak. Rice rules. Rice is like a jumpshot that smoothly swishes through a basketball hoop. It's perfect. The smell of it. The texture of perfectly cooked grains in your mouth with even subpar entrees makes for a happy day.
If all this is representative of "parts unknown" for you, begin respecting your rice. Pay no mind to its color. Rice is rice. Rice makes you feel good. Rice is one of those things that, in a life full of uncertainty and avarice and corruption, and, to a lesser extent, crummy food and pop songs crafted to make ears bleed rather than to give ears the Spa Treatment, we can always count on to be an integral part of a collective "affair to remember" (hi Mr Beatty...do allow me quote the title of one of your most acclaimed movies...thank you).

All rise- for rice! Waiter's here with our grub.

MC

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