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My Paris Trilogy (sort of!) – 2 La Parisienne de Manille (Or, how to eat tahong the French way)

FUNFARE - Ricky Lo - The Philippine Star

French or Filipino?

When Babette Aquino, La Parisienne de Manille, asked my traveling companion Raoul Tidalgo and me what food we wanted for dinner when she invited us to her well-appointed apartment (which she shares with her French husband, Monsieur Benoit, of 21 years) at an upscale part of Paris, a few blocks away from a friend’s apartment where we were staying, we didn’t have any second thought. After having baguette for days, we began craving for Filipino food.

Comfort food, that is.

Having dinner with Babette, who comes from the Aquino clan and described by friends back in Manila as “a woman of style” (who had a fashion line at Rustan’s years ago), turned out to be not only enjoyable but also educational.

First on the menu: Moules Marinieres (tahong to you and me, steamed in garlicky wine stock)

“Check if the tahong is ready,” Babette gently ordered, Annalene, her kasambahay of barely a month. “I love to cook. I myself prepared our dinner.”

You just don’t slurp tahong, the way we do in Manila. Babette taught us the French way.

“First,” she instructed us while reminding Annalene to scoop some tahong and soup into our bowls, “you crack open one with your fingers,” daintily now, “and bite the flesh; then, you detach one side of the shell and use it to open another tahong.”

Hmmmmm, yummy! I avoid tahong in Manila but I actually gobbled up a bowl-ful in Paris. It was that delicious! And tender.

“Sa atin,” she said, “what people usually do is cook and heat and reheat the tahong so it becomes hard. It’s better to eat it right away while it’s sizzling hot.”

And down it with the soup.

“In Paris,” said Babette, “it’s okay to put your bread on the placemat. You pinch a piece and dip it in the soup, like this...” Sarap!

Between bites, Babette educated Raoul and me about the Aquino family tree which is a bit complicated to be repeated here. Suffice it to say that Kris Aquino, for whom Babette also hosted a dinner when Kris and sons were there a few months ago, is her niece and Dr. Vicki Belo is also a close relative. Small world! There was talk about politics (Aquino nga, eh!) which was better kept off the record.

Next on the menu: Asperges (White Asparagus).

“Fresh,” Babette assured us.

And so soft that it seemed to melt in your mouth before you could chew it. Raoul is allergic to asparagus (and beans) but he consumed a lot, anyway. Let the joint pains come (they didn’t, thankfully!). It’s a good thing Babette didn’t prepare monggo soup, otherwise…

More talks about politics, digging up “reversal of fortune” tales during the dark days of Martial Law. That night, Raoul and I were more interested in how Babette has kept herself so young-looking and so fit, we could hardly believe her when she made a roll call of her contemporaries, all her barkada, many of them would, beside her, look like her aunts and uncles. We were so overwhelmed by her graciousness that we didn’t ask how “young” she was. Basta, looking young.

How does she do it?

“I walk,” she shrugged, “around the block, as often as I can.”

Really? Is it safe?

“Safe?” she exclaimed in mock shock. “What could be safer than this place? The President of France lives just around the block.” In fact, added Babette, sometimes she saw France’s former First Lady Carla Bruni (who has resumed her rudely-interrupted singing career after her husband, Nicolas Sarkozy, was defeated last year) also taking a walk. “There are guards at every corner.”

The night’s piece de resistance: Adobo(!) served with steaming-hot white rice

“And what do you call this in Paris?” I teased Babette. “Adobois, I guess.”

For a while, the three of us were silent as we devoured generous servings of Adobois, its greaseless sauce spread over the rice, making it even more delicious.

“Normally,” said Babette, “I don’t eat rice. But you can’t eat adobo without rice, di ba?”

Babette isn’t just living a life of leisure out there. She actually helps our kababayan become entrepreneurs, one of them Andy Celario who started as a driver and now owns his own car-rental business. Based in Paris for several years with his family, Andy speaks fluent French. He even acts as your tour guide while driving you from the train station to your apartment and from your apartment to the Charles de Gaulle Airport on your departure. He drove for Kris during Kris’ visit there. (With Andy’s permission, I’m printing his contact number in case you want to hire his services if you’re in Paris: +33 (0)6 40 95 27 68, or e-mail [email protected].)

After dinner (burp, burp, burp!!!), Babette gave us permission to take photos of her “comfort zone” (the pictures will speak for themselves) and, before bidding her goodbye, thanked her the memorable/”comfortable” dinner!

She ushered us to the elevator (the classic type you see in French art films) and promised to serve us more “comfort food,” with the Adobois as highlight.

(E-mail reactions at [email protected]. You may also send your questions to [email protected]. For more updates, photos and videos visit www.philstar.com/funfare or follow me on www.twitter/therealrickylo.) PHOTOS by RICKY LO & RAOUL TIDALGO

 

 

 

 

ADOBOIS

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