eating out

Weirdly, they invited us to eat out. "Last time na 'to," both my mother and my aunt promised. The doctor's advice affirmed my mother's distaste for fast food. She'd just seen "Super-Size Me" a few days ago, and was horrified to find out that McDonald's chicken nuggets are made from the over-sized and sagging breasts of sick chickens, along with a potent brew of chemicals and flavorings you'd never hear in a restaurant.

Anyway, we went to Cortino's, a quaint little Italian restaurant located at the outskirts of Weslaco. The restaurant catered to one my mother's trainings in school, and their chicken alfredo simply captured her taste buds. Since we were feeling quite adventurous that time, and were willing to spend a bit more just for a night, we tried it out.

I was mildly pleased when I'd just entered the room -- it was cozy, not too big, but not too small either. The wooden tables were candle-lit, a long and tapering one centered on each. Nice, quite romantic, I thought. But I was taken aback by the menu's prices: 13 dollars for a one-person dish was too much! My mother told me it was OK. After all, she said, this was the first and the last time we were eating here. And so, I excitedly prepared myself for a fancy and kingly repose.

We all had salad for appetizers -- with much regret, I chose the blue cheese dressing, because I never thought blue cheese tasted like moldy bread. I got chicken picatta, which my mother's co-teacher enthusiastically recommended. It's a chicken breast fillet marinated and cooked in lemon juice and garlic, with some butter-garlic angel hair pasta. I didn't like it that much -- it was too sour for my tastes. I took several morsels of the chicken marsala, which my aunt ordered -- the creamy wine and mushroom sauce was simply exquisite.

But I am not a gourmet, and this blog's not turning into a food digest.

I had been gluttonous, to be honest. I stuffed myself so much I could barely walk after eating. The following morning my tummy was still queasy because of holding so much food. Instead of eating moderately, and receiving it with heartfelt thanks to God, I was overrun by my voracious appetite. Shame on me.

We walked on a nearby park later that night. "Maglakad-lakad ka muna, para 'di ka mabangungot," my grandmother used to say. It was wonderful. A full moon hung overhead, outshining those tiny pinpricks of light in the dark blue canvas of the night sky. A warm (that's how hot it is here, even at night it's warm) but clean wind caressed our faces as we paced around.

And I realized how much the Lord blesses us in His abundant mercy, despite our petty shortcomings, despite the grave and horrible sins we commit. Wonderful, so wonderful He is.