When I think happy thoughts, I'll think of Seven Corners

I just got home, and so full to bursting I can hardly breathe. I'm crashing from all the sugar I consumed, and if I eat like that for the rest of my life, I'd probably grow in mass and get assigned my personal zip code. Of course, I exaggerate, but I'm really really full. It all started with this:

Chibichan: Ne, your birthday's next week! What are you going to do on your birthday?
Me (lets out an inward *Ugh*): Nothing. I'm broke, dude. (This what I answered every time someone asked me about my plans.) Well, I'll probably just stay home and have a movie marathon.
Chibichan: WHAT?! That's sacrilege. We must do something on your birthday!
Me: ... (I was miserable, and I would usually explode at that. Depressing explanation below.)
Chibichan: Aha! I know!
Me: Nani?
Chibichan: I know the perfect thing we can do! Free up your schedule for next weekend or next next weekend.
Me (thinks, "I do not have a schedule."): What?
Chibichan: It's a surprise, silly. You have a good sense of direction, right? Just say yes.
(At this point, I honestly thought she was going to take me hiking in mountainous boonies somewhere.)
Me: As long as I can wear jeans, yes.

[Depressing explanation: For some weird reason, I am always miserable on the days leading up and the day of my birthday. It's either I'm lonely or I'm broke. I'm talking the kind of broke that only bread winners and independent people living away from home know - no money for bills, food, or for anything else. It's a miserable feeling, and sometimes it gets so desperate that you seriously think that living with one kidney wouldn't be so bad. But if I had to choose between broke and the money arguments my parents once had - for October is an exam month - I'd choose broke.]

A few days later, I found out what the surprise was as Chibichan couldn't contain her excitement. We were going to have dinner at the Seven Corners Restaurant at the Crowne Plaza Hotel (Ortigas). I had no idea where that was, and I was quite worried about the jeans part but I went anyway.

Meeting place - SM Megamall. Let me say it again: I hate big malls.

Let's say SM Megamall is 300 meters (small estimate) from end to end. I walked from building A to building B, trying to make heads or tails of the place. That's 300 meters. Then I walked back from building B to A (to get to Powerbooks), another 300 meters. From Powerbooks, we had to walk to the middle of the mall where the cabs were, so that's 150 meters. (Chibichan walked from the building B to A and then to the middle. We had missed each other in the blasted mall.) So more or less, I walked one kilometer. How many calories do you think that was?

Anyway, we - determined to replace all the calories we spent walking - got a cab.

(Anyway, it's been a while since I saw Chibichan and let me just say her Taebo's paying off big time.)

We got to the hotel and after 2 milliseconds of feeling terribly underdressed, we hopped over a red cordon (or whatever that's called) and went in. And like a kid who had never seen lavish furnishings, high ceilings, and creepy hotel elevators, I shamelessly stared at everything in awe. And wow, the restaurant. It's surreal, really, especially for someone like me whose idea of dining out can be summarized in four things: fastfood, foodcourt, tapsihan, or Chuck's at Landmark.

The buffet spans nearly the entire length of the resto, with all the wonderful food lined up. The waiters were courteous (By courteous, I mean they pull out a seat for you and all that. I am a simpleton, I know.). The place had an overall comfy feeling - it's not garishly lit and it was quiet, as opposed to the canned music everywhere else.

Seven Corners' International buffet features Oriental, Japanese, Mediterranean, and Western food. Of course, we raided the Japanese part of the buffet first. For the first time ever, I tasted sushi. After numerous assurances from Chibichan that it's salmon and not tuna (something I am deathly allergic to), I clumsily held it with chopsticks and wolfed it down. Let me just say this: I didn't know raw fish tasted so good.

We also had prawns (a little bland, but I love prawns), wonderful shrimp salad (with olives, cucumber, and cherry tomatoes), shrimp sushi (Know the one in Cooking Mama? That one.), and a meat dish (I have no idea what it was. It looked like chopped pork with things thrown in but it was good nonetheless.). I skipped the lobster since I felt that I was pushing my luck with all the raw fish and shrimp. I mean, sure I can stand the itch, but I thought the crew would be alarmed if one of their diners suddenly resembled a giant red sore on legs. Also, several other goodies needed sampling.

We rested for a bit and found a nice kuya grilling steak. You just have to tell him how thick you wanted it, how many slices of steak you wanted, and how you wanted it. Since I was half full with the Jap food, I got a normal sized one (around half the plate) well done. The cheerful kuya cook laughed when I said, "Very very well done." I laughed too, and explained to Chibichan, "I once had a well done rare steak."

While waiting for our steaks, we got mashed potatoes, gravy, baked mussels (oh my good god, mozzarella), and lamb. Neither of us had lamb before, and after one bite, we agreed on what it tasted like: Curry. Somebody seemed to have gone crazy with the curry powder in the kitchen. That aside, the steak was heavenly. I love steak, and if I had an oven like Ayee's, I'd probably cook steak often. Chibichan pointed at my steak with her knife, "Hey, it still has a rare part. Next time, just tell them to 'burn it.'"

Full to bursting, we sipped our butterfly iced teas (with lemons and cherries on top) and talked for a long time. Somebody was having a function at the semi-enclosed space at the other side of the restaurant and the waiters sang Happy Birthday. Chibichan turns to me and says, "Want me to get them to sing for you, too?" I vehemently said no - I'd probably die of embarrassment.

We were too full to raid the other parts of the buffet and so went for dessert. Dessert! Oh the wonderful dessert. When I saw the chocolate fountain, I thought that it was the happiest birthday in my life. Chibichan was just beside herself. There were just too many yummy looking things to try out. I grabbed a stick with fruit and bathed it in the fountain, nabbed three scoops of ice cream (heavenly pistachio, cookies and cream, and mocha), and snatched a chocolate rum cake and a couple of melons and grapes from the fruit stack. Chibichan grabbed sugar on a stick (It was supposed to be meringue, but she can't spot the egg white taste.), chocolate creme brulee, pandan ricotta, flan, chocolate mousse, some fruit and a scoop of pistachio ice cream.

Oh joy. I don't think I can describe the experience effectively with adjectives, but really, those little desserts were little packages of happiness. I don't know if it was the sugar (I took one taste from the little flan and shivered. As in shivered. That little dynamo must have been made with a vat of syrup and a sack of sugar.), the chocolate (Premium dark chocolate was flowing from that heavenly fountain.), or all of the other wonderful things we ate, but by the end of it all, we were both giddy.

Domo arigato, Chibichan, for that wonderful wonderful semi-suprise birthday dinner. You did it, you definitely, definitely cheered me up. I'm in such a stupor that I repeat my adverbs and adjectives, but, really, thanks, for making this birthday not as miserable as the others. And for sitting across the table and taking my mind off stuff. And for being a sugoi tomodachi.

We are going to go back there, we definitely will.