As the early morning air wafted through its aroma, a nano-sized hurricane stormed through memories of a minute delight. I suddenly had a craving for pan-de-sal. That small air-filled product of incubated heat and the sweat of bakeries in the Philippines. The concoction of flour and pockets of empty space is the daily bread of many Filipino households, who have to send a sleepy member to line up at the local bakery just before dawn. Buying at the ungodly hour of around 4 am rewarded the early bird with divine gusto. Even the relatively early 8 a.m could mean unavailability of those baked goodies wrapped in brown paper holsters. The pan-de-sal, air-headed as it is, filled the stomach and fed the soul. It's usually smothered with peanut butter or the thin rectangular plain butter, whose melting triggered a full-bodied sensuality, energizing the whole person and preparing him or her for the struggles of the day. My mouth watered, as this nano-craving for what I substituted with whole-grain bread and nutella - or the occasional honey crispix in a bowl of milk - suddenly flashed to bring me back to my country, my memory.
Posted at 01:58 am by starsi
