By  LPJ

Binging. That doesn’t really give a good ring, does it? But that’s exactly what I went through the past week. It was wonderful. I may be exaggerating here, for it wasn’t really eating in excess. It was just eating decent proportions of very delicious food for consecutive days. That doesn’t usually happen. But it just did.

Fair binging (an oxymoron, perhaps) started on a somber occasion, the commemoration of my brother-in-law Mario’s 40^th day death anniversary, a custom carried in the Catholic tradition. My sister Susan, though still in deep grief, hosted lunch at  Kanji Sushi and Ramen, a Japanese restaurant in Palo Alto. After the memorial mass, attendees proceeded to be seated at closely lined up long tables conducive to social chit chats among kins and friends gathered for what normally would have been considered a sad occasion. It must have been the anticipation for mixed tempura, ramen soup, teriyaki chicken and mochi mango-strawberry ice cream that lifted the somber air to a party atmosphere. I don’t think my brother-in-law would have minded. After all, he loved sumptuous food when his health allowed a robust appetite.

                                              (Photo by Susan P. Veloro)

Sunday morning after our church service took us to Dinah’s Poolside Restaurant in Palo Alto, for lunch. I stuck to my favorite, fish and chips, while the others in my group enjoyed zesty wagyu hamburger, spicy pasta, meat and cheese omelette, thick clam chowder soup and fresh salad. By the pool, we sat under a canvass walled in by a transparent tarpaulin to shield us from the cool breeze. But the bright sunshine and blue skies called us outdoors, so we walked to what I call a “secret Japanese garden” behind the pool where splashing fountains, ducks languidly sailing the waters, large, cantankerous gold fish, ferns and lilies jutting out of rocks on the pond, and bubbly currents awaited us. A very lovely scenery that we feasted on before we grudgingly walked back to our cars in the parking lot.

The evening that same Sunday was a dinner treat for my niece Shirley’s birthday. The fantastic food was no surprise, for we had been at the Thai Farmhouse in Menlo Park before. An artistically decorated place right beside the Menlo Park train station, it is a much sought after venue for celebrations particularly for the ambience and fine gourmet experience. We had the exquisite pad Thai topped with shiny red lobster, the 24-hour soup featuring tender beef on the bone floating on top of noodles in richly flavored soup, chicken in green curry underneath a 3-inch tower of cooked eggplant slices, blue rice, and my absolute favorite, crab meat generously mixed in fried rice. For appetizer, fresh vegetable spring rolls. Despite a heavy lunch some hours before, I definitely gave in to my appetite for the elegantly presented Thai dishes, of course, aided by my smooth-textured, sweet iced Thai tea.

As if all those weren‘t enough, we drove to nearby Baskin Robbins for scoops of ice cream. Mine was mint with chocolate chips, a regular default when I can’t decide.

The binge culminated in an elegant afternoon tea at Lisa’s Tea Treasures in Campbell on a warm and sunshiny Tuesday. Setting in the restaurant was very prim. The venue presented an elegant Victorian design, highlighted by flowered wall paper around the room. Delicate little plates and cups on cloth covered tables gave away the kind of food and fashion of eating at the place: miniature sandwiches, scone, and delicate pastries. Each person had a teapot of choice tea. Mine easily became my favorite: Moroccan mint tea which I ended up ordering to take home. My  best, however, was the potato creamed soup with a light consistency and flavor. I also ordered that to take home. That afternoon tea was my sister Susan’s treat, a grand experience I hope to repeat.

Binging, in a most delightful way, I truly enjoyed. But I’m comfortable, too, to be now back to the norm — modest daily eating.

The binge was great, but just for a week. That was enough. Another week would rear an ugly head.

Linda P. Jacob