November 27, 2019
My dinner at Van Gogh is Bipolar restaurant starts with a ritual
First, the food server asks me to put the pink towel on the table.
An old sewing machine was used as the table’s base.
A huge ceramic bowl arrives.
Paolo is a Fine Arts graduate from UP and he volunteers here once or twice a week.
He welcomes guests and explains what this whole dining experience is all about.
I can’t do two hands at the same time because I am taking pictures.
Not my hands
Next: Paolo cracks one egg and drops the egg white in the red glass, and puts the egg yolk in a shot glass. He sprinkles it with pink Himalayan salt, a pinch of cayenne powder, a dash of something he calls black sauce, half a teaspoon of honey, and a squeeze of kalamansi.
He then asked me to gulp this concoction. I hesitated for a few seconds but I did it anyway. split second and the yolk was gone.
The last time I ate raw egg was probably 45 years ago. When I am feeling weak and sick, my mom would crack an egg, stir it in a glass of Sarsi soft drink and make me drink it. Ayaw ko but no choice otherwise she would give me the meanest look and yell at me.
Hot veggie soup with mushrooms.
I actually have no idea what is coming. I am happy with my main course: some veggies, black rice, fried chicken, yes, fried spring chicken, and some fruits.
The chicken is crispy on the outside and moist on the inside.
A dinner date with myself
Comes the dessert part:
The first is gelatin with sesame seeds.
Next is chocolate mousse.
I ate 1/2 of the gelatin and 2% of the chocolate. I was just too full.
One can also find peace and relaxation by simply dining alone. Once in awhile a date with oneself is good for the soul. Salute!
My feet and fate probably brought me here to meet a 24-year-old artist who attempted to kill himself twice. His story in my future post.
