Justice for Pancit Canton

After a tiring work rummaging the library all day, I decided to reward myself instantly by eating instant street food.

My neurons were tired working hard and they demanded me to eat something familiar to my taste buds. The day deserved to be concluded with a stick of kwek kwek and a plate of pancit canton.

My patience was tested when the vendor told me that they ran out of gus. Relief came when my pancit canton was subtly cooked.

When I was about to eat, I noticed that the noodles seemed different. It looked like  yakisoba noodles.

Since they didn’t have LPG anymore, I decided to let it go and enjoy the food.

I was satisfied at some point because my work in the library made me famished.

After my meal, I remembered the days that I ate pancit canton. It has been part of my bonding with my family and friends.  This has been my way of escape from several assignments and tasks.

There were days that pancit canton tasted so good. Other times the stock was just fine. Indeed, this food made its rightful spot in our grocery list. It is a mortal sin to forget pancit canton.

When I was younger and I didn’t want our viand, I would cook and eat pancit canton with rice. Life is indeed incomplete without pancit canton.

When my tongue remembered my past, I realized that I didn’t like the new taste and aura of the new pancit canton.

Sometimes, change is inevitable, but I think I am not ready for this kind of change. My taste buds will always crave with the classic flavor.

The stall still didn’t have gas, so I transfered to another stall. Then, I remembered that I wanted to buy kwekkwek, so I bought and ate.

Right then, I forgot my pancit canton experience entirely.


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