How To Chicken a Larsian. Vice Versa.

My love for chicken can be summed up by one elementary correlation: I worship sushi, but chicken makes me mad. It's a bird. It's a foul. It's a domesticated pheasant. Every part of a chicken is a travelogue on its own. Like, the wing is Tibet, the neck is Nepal, the legs is France, the butt... uuhhh... the butt is all American!  Isaw (intestine) is undoubtedly Filipino.  But it's just me. A chicken fan.

Coming to Cebu is a gastronomic adventure similar to a trip to Disneyland. There are chicken barbecues everywhere. When I say everywhere, it's like every five-meter radius.  Not to mention that a whole roasted chicken  can be feasted on for only Php99.00; Php130.00 max.  Hey, that's only in Cebu. So read again before you attack the roasted-chicken vendor at the corner of E. Rodriguez, Quezon City for selling you Php250.00 a whole chicken.

So imagine now when I discovered Larsian. It's one place near Fuente Circle right next to a hospital, where everything chicken is skewered, bathed in all sort of sweet, sour, soy sauces and laid on flaming coal. Paired, of course, with ubiquitous puso and more soy sauce (or vinegar) with lemon juice and chili to dunk it in before having the delectable morsel disappear in your mouth.  Then you convulse. 

But Larsian is more than just about roasted chicken. If I wanted chicken, I told you they're all over Cebu.  Larsian is a fascination in food, culture, and... ahm... food. And culture.  It's all about the manner of eating and the food you eat. That's because Larsian is not your typical eating place.  It's devoid of air conditioning (what exhaust fan?),  ambient lighting (they're trying), fine tables and silverware (not even plastic). It's not  a place to bring a date, unless you're dating Angelina Jolie who's always on the lookout for an Asian orphan to adopt.  You eat with your hands.  You can choose to have your hands gloved in plastcc or wash from a jug of water.  I prefer the former as washing means having to endure the water splattering on my feet and having it flow on the crude cement floor towards somebody else's table. The plates are made of coconut fronds or some native materials that are not suppose to be washed. Which explains why they're all covered with plastic. Say, do the dishes... waterless. 

Some of the best eating experiences I had were done in hotels, classy Japanese, character Italian with all the finery of high table manners.  But a great eating experience I would rather have is where one could simply slack at manners. Larsian has such feel. Go put your other feet on top of your seat. Chew and speak at the same time, and discover a newfound talent. Go grab anything from across the table. Avoid asking somebody to hand you something. It's rude to interrupt somebody in a feeding frenzy. You can smoke all you want. It can't be worse than the smoke coming from all the grills all over the place. You can drop your leftovers on the floor and nobody will give a hoot. Reminds me of a friend who drops his leftovers on the floor instead of putting them on the side of his plate. He'd love Larsian.

One can also feel like a celebrity upon entering Larsian. The marketing scheme among consignors involved having customers almost wrestled to their tables although they're all selling the same lovely cuisine (one of my BFF's describe cuisine as food prepared artistically):  barbecued pork, blue marlin (at Php60.00?! a piece), squid, siomai (to die for), liempo, chorizo, chicken innards, butt, wings, breast, legs, nothing human. For rice, there is always Cebu's national cuisine (really artfully done) puso.  

Segue: to eat puso, one simply has to break it open from where the wrappings have been slit by a knife. Then take the compacted sticky rice by hand to mouth.  If it's too big, just take a bite. You will know somebody from Manila or outside Cebu when they spread the rice on their plates.  Wrong! That's like having dinner with a spoon in Canada.

Upon finishing everything served, you can wipe your mouth of all the grease from all the chicken skin you ate and the sauces dripping from your mouth. Have a glass or two of soda from a large bottle of Coke.  Then pay. Kaching!! all for Php350 (even less) for three or you can stomach-space-is-the-limit for Php500.00.  Where you even? (Sa'n ka pa?)

For those who do not read, here's a pictograph on how to eat at Larsian.

STEP 1

Go find Larsian. It's at the opposite side of Fuente Circle coming from Mango Avenue. It's next to a Chinese-sounding hospital. Go ask.

STEP 2
Enter the hollowed grounds and look for a vantage seat. The place can be an interesting venue to people watch. Don't listen to waitresses calling you to pick their table. Don't be gullible.

Step 3

Choose a vendor. Oh, this one has kinilaw, tinola, siomai and hot soup.  Ahm, this is the only picture I have of a vendor so I am not necessarily endorsing this one.  Your choice is as good as mine.

STEP 4

Pick and choose your poison. The fun starts here.

STEP 5

No! You don't eat it right away. Ask an attendant to have it cooked.

No. This is not the attendant. This is the bouncer in the guise of me.

STEP 6

While your chicken parts are being cooked, go back to your seat with your plate of puso.  You might be handed a bunch but you don't have to finish all of them. Return the excess as long as they are not opened.

 STEP 7

Eat! Swallow! Munch! Gorge! Devour! Gobble! Bon a poulet!

STEP 8

Don't forget to document. Click! Click! Click!

STEP 9

After the feast, go back outside and play "Name That Building."

Next stop: Pungko-Pungko