There are two reasons behind the slight delay of this last post of the dinner party series. One, I realized that I didn’t really take a lot of photos of dessert. Could be because of that last photo in the previous post. Two, I wanted to wait until I got clearance from Boy to post his photo, as well as his contact information. Three, I’m a procrastinator. Four, I’m wrapping up my vacation here, which means I’ve  been spending more time trying to cram everything in and less time at the laptop.

Okay, so there were more than two reasons.

In any case, here is my one and only decent photo of dessert.

Notice how I’ve already taken two (or maybe four) bites of it. (This whole two = four thing is starting to become a habit here.) It was orange cake, with chunks of candied orange peel as a garnish. It was moist, with a wonderful texture and a light, delicate crust all around.

To accompany the cake, we all voted to forego the usual coffee drink in favor of tea. Of course, in Boy’s house, it’s not just plain old tea. He served us teh tarik.

Teh tarik is pulled tea that tastes so wonderfully smooth and creamy that I can still taste it in my mouth as I type this. It’s popular in Malaysia and Singapore. Had I known that its preparation was entertainment in itself, I would have taken a break from my intent preoccupation with the orange cake long enough to witness the making of teh tarik.

Alas, gluttony has its price, and so all I have to show you is what was put in front of me.

Trust me. You absolutely must try this. The creaminess. The light froth on top. The perfect drinking temperature. I almost cried.

Well, not exactly. Alright, just a little. But I think that was mostly because my stomach started complaining about the sheer volume of food I ingested, and was beginning to threaten mutiny.

And for that, I have this guy to thank.

Meet Boy. Chef, candlemaker, landscape artist, dive stuntman, and horticulturist. Did I mention he also caters? Yes, folks (well, folks in Manila, that is). You, too, can get Boy to cook for you. I’ll post his contact information in the comments section if you’re interested.

And you remember his house? His beautifully decorated, charmingly appointed house? (What did I just say? Charmingly appointed? What in the world does that mean? Who says things like that?)

You also remember these quaint little homemade touches, don’t you?

Well, he just told me his house is for sale. Yes, I asked him if he was serious. He seemed to be. Then again, at that exact moment, he was hanging out with my cousin and their third stooge Marx brother wheel friend. That would be this guy here, captured in his favorite activity. (And if your eyes are sharp, you’ll spot the whole, as-yet-unmolested orange cake there in the corner.)

I call him Loves To Refill Glasses. Needless to say, I can’t really vouch for any statements made with this guy around.

Where were we? Oh yes. The actual dinner.

Dinner started with a scrumptious bowl of French onion soup. Now, normally I’m not a big fan of French onion soup. It’s a long story that has to do with an unfortunate hospital confinement, three days of no food or drink except intravenous fluids, and then a first meal of heavily-spiced French onion soup that overloaded my taste buds. My tongue still has nightmares of that fateful night.

And yet, for some reason, I didn’t feel like gagging when the first course was placed in front of me.

That bowl was empty pretty fast. I won’t tell you just how fast. I have my pride. Well, at least some of it.

Next up was this beautifully presented gigantic rectangular plate of various appetizers. It was huge. And pretty. You really had to be there, because my pictures don’t do it justice.

See? It was so big that I couldn’t fit the entire plate in my frame. Spot that little bivalve mollusk up there, in the upper righthand corner? That’s a delicious scallop in its shell, with some kind of garlic-herb-cheese crust on it.

Excuse me while I drool all over again.

If I wasn’t battling the urge to attack this plate immediately, I probably would have thought of adjusting my aperture so that the smoked salmon rose there in front would be in focus more.

And you see that salad there? That perfectly dressed salad?

He decorated the lettuce with marigold petals. Both lettuce and marigolds were from his garden. Where he also grows his own herbs.

I found that out not long after learning that he made his own candles. I think it was right around that time that I pretty much bid goodbye to my pride.

Which subsequently was pretty much obliterated once the main course rolled out. Stay tuned if you could use some pride reduction as well. We happen to be running a special this week.