3 Interesting Things About Persian Palate Food


1. Specifically the Persian Palate Chello. It's actually pretty tasty. And you have got to love the fact that it's an authentic Mediterranean kebab dish. I mean, what piece of kebab that tastes like a pretty much average fast-food burger patty couldn't be considered Persian?

2. More elaboration on its being a kebab. All the while I was eating it I couldn't  remember not being reminded of the last burger meal with rice I had from Jollibee. In fact, it's pretty much just Jollibee burger patty without the more fulfilling gravy and the overcharged price. Which is good really, because how else could you brag the fact that you've eaten in a finer resto like Persian Palate if it wouldn't cost you about a quarter less to dine in such a very un-classy but almost always satisfying fast food bistro as Jollibee? It's hard to make yourself think you're better than anyone else if you just eat a filling P39 Beef and Rice meal. Eating cheap is like not owning a car: a Filipino trait that signals you're poor and do not deserve the kind of respect people who own 15 houses and 13 cars get, unless of course they're from The Church.

3. And what food review would be complete if you didn't write about the specialty food, other than almost more than half of the good food in the world that you don't really have to write about because who brags about food anyway? Except of course South Korea. That Kim Jong Il's a reason it'll not be that long before writing something like this has got to be one of the funniest things man can do. Anyway, Persian Palate's specialty would be its grilled tomato and butter. Such exquisite drama from something mundanely organic. Such expertise at knowing what feels authentic and rich. Who could've thought you could charge a tomato you can get grilled back home and a slab of butter you can hustle for free down that favorite sandwich kiosk of yours, so high that you couldn't find it hard to brag for yourself that you're now better than the rest of the people who don't even know what dinner means? Who cares about the people in the streets when I'm rich and God wants me to be rich and I can eat this meal that God blessed me to have and I'm actually pretty sure God's always telling me it's not wrong for me to reason out anything any one else considers wrong, as right, right?

My Tuna and Tomato dish. But you don't have to know this because you're rich and own cars.

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