�������t¶��

Cunanan and Dungca have taken the Bloomin’ Onion, a dish whose only association to the Philippines is its quasi-resemblance to the sampaguita flower, and grounded it in the country’s gastronomy with an ingenious chile-crab fat dipping sauce.

The connection between Pogiboy and Outback is more poetic than literal: Cunanan and Dungca noticed how the Bloomin’ Onion, when sliced, splayed and fried, resembles a sampaguita, the national flower of the Philippines.

“Okay, young lady, if you’re done parading around like Miss Preteen Sampaguita, then it’s bedtime. Last day of seventh grade tomorrow!”

Mom hands me a bouquet of red mums, which I cradle like a Miss Preteen Sampaguita.

Dessert is another crowd of plates: airy turon, lumpia with oozy guts of caramelized banana; a threesome of dense cassava cake, jammy ube halaya and leche flan, akin to crème caramel; and langka ice cream, made by Nenette Albenio, the chef’s sister, which tastes of sheer voluptuousness and, improbably, the scent of sampaguita, Philippine jasmine.