Although such feasts may be overly distended or seem incredible, specially in more civilized settings, there is a thin line between what may be gastronomique and what may be macabre, what may be creative, or what may be totally oblique, or what may be in bad or even worse taste. But such are those hilariously memorable yet deplorable meals that at least a gastronaughty person has experienced one even if only once in his lifetime.

Let’s take the case of restaurant and their chefs. One can have all the fancy authentic names and gyp the supposedly "cosmopolitan set" with such dishes as vegetable terrine with red pepper coulis. The expatriate owners served us precisely the same dish that had the odor and redolence of baby barf. I am glad that this hall mark of pretense closed years ago and never got into this (century).

The truth of the matter is there are just as many French cooks who can dish out bad French food as there are Filipino cooks who can’t cook good Filipino food.

Or how about the wedding of a cousin, who was on a budget. One cannot see the logic of going elegant on a shoestring budget without thought for the well-being of one’s guests, who wake up early in the morning and attend with rather heavy heads and sleepy hearts this ceremony of a lifetime. Breakfast was on the top floor with a panoramic view of Manila Bay but alas, the hot chocolate turned out to be one of those canned instas that made me feel like part of a "Raiders of the Lost Ark" or Mr. Shortie-who-dunks-the ball-against-taller-kids-my-age theme commercials. There was also the sliced sweet ham cold and straight out of the supermarket pack that was thawing on our plates. For about the same price, breakfast would have been memorable in a more austere yet reassuring place. (Up to now, I still hate my cousin for sending us next door to Aristocrat sans barong after the reception…)

Or how about the Korean restaurant in Mabini that folded up and advertised authenticity. A bowl of traditional cold noodles yielded a mound of hotdog mustard instead of real yellow mustard for this dish. Or talk about pulutan where the restaurant banks heavily on dishes such as deep-fried chicken behinds. On one occasion, a groupmate for his chicken rump a la Alexandria, that is – with kernel of golden corn in it.

Even some mortals lucky enough in life to be members of the oldest gourmet society in the world, the Chaine des Rotisseurs, are not spared: the Chaine has had its share of dreadful meals. At one grand dinner amical, the cocky chef was so sure of himself that he never gave a pre-dinner tasting for assessment of the Chaine board. I have never seen so many disgusted beings in black tie or barong, all ridiculously capping the evening at the nearest pizza parlor. To this day, that seems to be the joke and remedy of the situation whenever the dinner is assessed by members. Of course, fast food chains cannot be serious substitutes either, considering one can start his day with this breakfast from an American chain that cannot decide whether the mango juice should taste like orange or the orange juice should taste like mango. Take it also from children who complain about shrinking portions or downsized portions that do not seem to be what they get when they are abroad or what they use to get when these chains just opened. (The decision makers took up courses in minimalist interior design and tried applying it into food.

Sometimes, the clients bring these unforgivable repasts on themselves. I’ve seen a guest at a Morato restaurant complain about a perfectly done Caesar Salad with the rich, thick dressing coating the lettuce evenly. The man was so aghast at what looked like a dry salad, that he smothered the entire preparation with an extra order of Thousand island dressing. Now that’s what you call Caesar salad with ten Thousand Island dressing (you kind of wonder if he asked them to cut back on the garlic or anchovy because he was with a date…)

Then again there was that great promotion called "Caesar Salad – eat as much as you like." Gluttons would ask for thirds then wonder why they felt nauseous after having the equivalent of a small jar of mayonnaise running in their systems.

There is also the other side of the story, which brings us to the joys or disadvantages of being entertained at home. As chefs, we individually have experienced the trauma and worry of people who have to entertain us, with our trade or craft in mind. It is difficult when you are stared by all as one is given a dish made by a family member that is honest, deliciously done yet they have to squeeze out your opinion on what the defects of the dish maybe. (People don’t have to try to conjure cute or impressive recipes while we are only trying to escape from our kitchens to have good, uncomplicated meals of homey and honest food.)

Sometimes it is also quiet funny and surreal when you have a setting like Manila’s bejeweled and smartly dressed socialites came upon at a cocktail in a plush home, where the drinks were paired off with escabecheng maya-maya, breaded pork chop and pancit bihon. (The vodka tonic and the pancit bihon were a complex combination since the twist of lemon was built in.)

Even in country homes, our Filipiniana authors romanticize the pleasures of fresh barrio and fiesta cuisine. Well, try attending day two of a barrio fiesta where they heap your plate with all sorts of galantines, meat loafs and roulades that are slow cultures of microscopic action due to the tropical heat. One only needs a lighted match to spark the insides of the car of probably to give the eater enough gas to inflate a few balloons for the evening dance at the plaza.

We’ve had the opportunity to be invited to a chef-friend’s aunt’s who, prepared a meal of "Roast Chicken Hollandaise". The dish turned out to be fried egg on top of fried breaded chicken on a sea of mayonnaise and pickles. At another dinner in New York, the repast commenced with a Consomme de brunoise (maybe bruno), a consommé of cubed beef bouillion and large vegetable cubes with roasted Cornish game hens as the main course. It should have been labeled Cornish game hen surprise, the surprise being the gizzard, heart and liver, all still intact in their plastic bag inside the roasted fowl.

With regard to attire, we had been invited to a dinner where we felt our sartorial capabilities had to be commensurate to the invitations. Visions of a small, intimate dinner of interesting people from all walks of life played in our minds. The resulting scene was dinner on Melamine ware. (It was so embarrassing not to be dressed for such an occasion though I wanted to be dressed like one of those evil minions from Lord of the Ring…)

So one can see that there are always two sides to a story. One should never think that memorable meals are only those that are meals of excellence. As in a person’s development, growth is determined by several factors such as peers and environment. Thank God the grubmaster in our boy scout patrol is now a computer expert. He used to have all these bizarre ideas on our camping meals; most memorable and possibly most absurd was a dish composed of a mix of pork and beans, pineapple juice and corned beef --------------------- yuck!

• If you know your host is famous for dreadful meals, come early and announce you are leaving early. Get bombed on the wine and liquour and leave. Or come late and announce you’ll be there for dessert and coffee.

• Proper attire for dreadful meals – dress up in loose garments so that you have allowance for gas production.

• Remedy for dreadful dishes – Ketchup, Tabasco, Worcestershire sauce, lemon, pepper – mix all together for a barbeque sauce, smother food and probably the cook.

• Flush everything down with the wine. If the wine is just as bad, take a few absinthe or red bull; after awhile everything will be festive.

• Say you’re on South Beach. Leave the food on your plate. Better still, lovingly pile it up on the plate of the person next to you whom you’ve developed a dislike for.

• At a dreadful restaurant, order Fried Chicken… Chances are the cook has had years of experienced doing this dishes in former places that have folded up.