The Kind Stranger with the Fried Chicken: How I Found Khao Khai Thai Chicken House Express

My feet were beginning to ache by the time I reached Robinsons Galleria.

It had been one of those ordinary errand days that somehow leave you more exhausted than busy. Client meetings, bank transactions, small purchases, lines that move just slowly enough to test your patience. By late afternoon, hunger had simplified everything. I no longer wanted to weigh options or compare menus. I wanted food that would satisfy something primal and immediate.

I wanted fried chicken.

I was weaving through the usual lunchtime crowd when a tray passing in my peripheral vision made me turn my head. A woman walked past carrying a plate of fried chicken so beautiful that it felt almost absurd to encounter it in the middle of a mall food court. The pieces were deeply golden, their crust uneven in the most promising way, with ridges and crags that caught the light. It was the sort of chicken that looked loud even before you heard it crackle.

I kept looking at it.

Long enough, probably, to cross the line between curiosity and impoliteness.

Tim Ho Wan in Baguio City: Warm Bowls, Cold Air, and a Family Meal After a Long Day

There is a particular kind of tiredness that only Baguio City can give.

Not the heavy exhaustion of routine, but the pleasant fatigue that settles into your legs after a full day of walking uphill roads, weaving through crowds, stopping for photos, and insisting you still have enough energy for one more attraction because everyone else seems game for it.

And it's not as if I am complaining. Having a chance to go back to Baguio again to visit relatives is such a blessing, I could only be thankful.

By late afternoon, the cold had sharpened. It slipped quietly through sleeves and settled into the hands first, then the shoulders, until everyone began rubbing their palms together or pulling jackets closer. Even my nephews, who had spent the day racing ahead with the boundless stamina only children seem to possess, had started to slow down. They were no longer asking what we would see next.

They were asking where we would eat.

H Proper Coffee Roasters at The Podium: Coffee, Cake, and an Afternoon That Slowed Time

By the time Saturday arrived, all of us looked as though we had spent the week staring into the same screen updating the same websites. In many ways, we had.

We work remotely, scattered across different homes and different cities, meeting each other more often through video calls. Most days, our conversations revolve around deadlines, web technicalities, campaigns, translations, and the tiny details that only fellow Web Content Developers would understand. When work becomes particularly demanding, our worlds shrink until they are measured by browser tabs, coffee mugs, and the glow of a laptop long after sunset.

That Saturday was different.

We finally traded our laptops for paintbrushes, laughed our way through an afternoon activity that reminded us none of us had promising futures as painters, attempted a little dancing with far more enthusiasm than grace, and lingered over lunch at a Thai restaurant before the afternoon began to dissolve into separate plans. Some of our teammates headed their separate ways, while a few of us wandered into The Podium in search of coffee and a little more conversation.