Dirty Halo-halo Ala Pacquiao

Distance from home: 22.9 kilometers

Place:  Barangay San Lucas

Establishment name:  Apartment for Rent

The back story:

I have the road literally to myself because it’s Pacquiao fight day; proof of this is the 35kph I registered along the normally busy stretch along De lasalle where, on a normal day, one would be lucky to do 10 without stopping or pulling over to give way to tricycles or motorcycles who are themselves being muscled to the side by jeeps, cars, buses and trucks.  So while Pacquiao re-established himself as a boxing icon, I was king of the road.

The Stopover:

The halo-halo stand I chose was not my first option.  The first, which came at around Km 20 into my ride, turned me down because it had run out of ingredients.  The store, I suppose, is either doing good business, or must have a store policy against serving halo-halo to tall, sweaty bikers.

I knew I had a winner when I passed by this particular stand with an Apartment for Rent banner to call attention to its ware.  Anyway, aside from not saying it sells halo-halo, what sets this halo-halo stand apart from any I have seen is that the number of children gathered around it was greater than the number of ingredients in the halo-halo itself – I counted 10, all below 5 years old, 11 if you counted the baby inside the womb of the woman shaving the ice.

Now, you know that when there are so many tykes gathered in one place there must be a birthday party somewhere, right?  I don’t know.  I can’t tell.  There were no balloons, spaghetti or cakes, only kids getting their hands all over the big block of ice used for the halo-halo.  I understand the relief the freezing cold must be to the kids who are sweaty from running around and playing hide and seek --  they were squealing in delight -- but hey, as long as they are happy then I can forego my concern with sanitation.  At least the ice was kids-tested and found effective in bringing cheer.  So this must be a fun halo-halo.

The Candidate:

The halo-halo looked, well, like any regular halo-halo, with ice on top and colorful rekados at the bottom.  I stirred and swirled the mix until the colors at the bottom had generally spread around the plastic cup.  I could see langka strips, minatamis na saba, melon strands, pinipig, minatamis na kamote, and colored sago.  I’m pretty sure there’s also ube in it, or at least some purple colored goo that has lent its color to the mixture.

The first spoonful was satisfying enough.  It could have been better though if the jueteng kubrador, who was passing by, announced that the store owner’s bet won; I could have gotten the halo-halo for free as a balato.  But no, I wasn’t that lucky.  But still, the halo-halo was satisfying, it was not too sweet nor too bland.  Though the number of rekados paled in comparison with the number of squealing kids, the halo-halo however came with a two-year old playing with my bike’s rear tire and a grandfather asking how much my bike costs.  Now, that's something you don't get everyday.

The Verdict:

Because of the overall impact of small children cheering me as I spooned the rekados and drank the liquid, this Halo-halo is a winner, as far as I am concerned.  Perhaps, the kids are pleased that I am taking in the product of their dirty hands with considerable gusto.  And at P15 a pop, this halo-halo is not a bad deal at all.  I even asked for some extra kids-massaged ice shaving for my water bottle, so what more can I ask for?