Devouring a bag of chicharon

While walking on the street, we see a man carrying bags of chicharon.

We hesitate at first, but the desperation of the man's face, combined with our palate's search for novel tastes, got the better of us. We pay him 30 pesos for a pack.

At home, we devour the food--it's really just fried pig skin we soaked in native vinegar.

While munching, Kuya Imay comments that our money is worth it. "Maraming laman. Hindi gaya ng iba na puro hangin lang malalasahan mo."

"Oo nga 'no?" I realize his point. "Pero hindi kaya double-dead lang 'yung baboy na kinatay?"

He lost his appetite while I continued with my gastronomic rites.