‘Do you love Balu?’, Ryan, one of the auditors, asked me.

I don’t understand what he’s referring. I replied, uncertain and simple, ‘No’.

He was keep on asking about balu as I was keep on thinking what balu is. Perhaps, two or three questions already flew in about that balu while I was so busy processing connections of the balu among the security and previous topics we had discussed.

‘No’, but I was ‘really unsure’ on my answer.

When every one else’s talking about the yolk, the embryo and the duck, I almost wanted to knock my temple. ‘The egg, of course’, I said to myself. Then, I butt in telling that I used to eat the embryo when I was a kid without knowing what the meticulous and selective adult’s thinking now.

I left the panel to attend to the meeting of HP bowling club. ‘I’ll see you later in the dinner’, I said to Ryan, ‘…and we’ll talk more about balu’ I said to myself.

After two hours and the bowling meeting was adjourned (sad I missed the magic show of Sandeep), Marianne and I went to the hotel for us to pick the four. We’re waiting for Paul wide (Paul tall will join us – so to have a distinction between two Paul’s) who had just bought the duck eggs from Glorietta. We then headed to the Mall of Asia to eat dinner. Most of us are already starving. All are egg-cited about the balut.

We picked Burgoo to satisfy our hunger. Balut eggs were still safe, uncracked and waiting. We told them that it is better to have an unempty stomach before our Fear Factor initiation begins. It’s still part of the Filipino’s warm hospitality, I guess. Warm as the balut.

Paul tall, Ian, Arthur and Ryan were ‘auditing’ on the duck eggs. Paul tall tutored them a speech lesson.

‘It’s balut’, Paul instructed.

‘Balu..t’, the rest pronounced,

‘There’s a t in the end’, Paul added.

‘Balut’

‘Much better’, we said.

‘Balut’, Ryan repeated.

‘That’s why I’m hesitant on replying earlier when you’re asking me about balut’, I revealed to Ryan.

‘Really’, he chuckled. ‘Balut’, he tried once again.

Our gastro-adventure started with a feast of American food, non-Texas size but bountiful. We had pizza and nachos. All love melted cheese. Yummy! Seafoods, pasta and fried onion rings were served.

Then, Ryan confessed that although he turned his back on onions, his fork can dive in those onion rings and eat ‘em. ‘Only fried onion rings’, he revealed. His first ‘union with onion’ was during our lunch out in Shakey’s. But let’s see about their new friend, Balut, who was beginning to lose its warmth.

Claude and Nits asked the waiters to provide us a bowl of hot water for the balut. When the staff recognized that we brought a dozen of eggs and their bowl won’t suffice, and perhaps how exciting would it be to find foreigner friends to eat balut, they offered the group to boil those eggs straight to their kitchen. Talking about contingency plan and balut safekeeping and security, eh?

And now for the dessert… not cold and sweet… but warm and salty… balut.

Paul tall asked me if I’m going to eat balut. I said yes. He thanked me for that. Then, Arthur asked Marianne and I how often we eat balut. To my last count it was a year I guess, or more. ‘I don’t crave for balut but if you want me to try it for a game, then I’ll do it.’

Paul tall started to break his balut. We prompted them that balut liquid would come out. We asked them to take a sip on it. ‘It’s tasty’, their unanimous call. ‘You should not eat the hard white part’, as the group’s warning. ‘They are called stones’, I added. ‘Go for the yolk and it tastes like an ordinary egg.’, Paul and Nits continued.

And for the climax…

Of course, as expected, auditors will put their auditing into practice. They began dissecting the egg. ‘Where’s the duck?’, Ryan asked the group without noticing his fork was already on the duckling on its contracted position. When the head of the animal showed, it chirped. Joke!

Among the four, it was only Ryan who had a stomach for that Philippine street delicacy. He even joked that the crunchy beak anchored between his teeth. The group started to chat on topics other than how gross balut is for they might threw up things. They asked Paul wide if he ate his balut. Paul showed them evidence, just like audit meetings eh, the shells of two eggs. Paul tall noticed one stone was missing. Paul wide revealed that he ate it. Laughter was heard.

It is the restaurant’s tradition to cheer birthday carols to the customers who had a celebrant with them in the group. We had listened to at least three. The count doesn’t end there when Paul wide asked the crew to sing for Ryan (for being the champion in the balut eating contest). He was given a scoop of ice cream with a candle thrusted on it. ‘I thought it was a balut coated with cream’, he joked.

Right after our two-hour dinner, another hour of sharing of ideas and experiences was spent. These are worth another blog posts, their impression on the Filipinos, traffic jam, religion, work and of course SAP table maintenance. Everybody is taking each last chance to bond with each other. We don’t want to end the night but the time has come for us to bid bye for now.

We have to count another year before they will return to the country. Maybe balut would be a piece of cake for them. How about century egg, penoy and the infamous one-day old chick?

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