Little John’s

With the lack of parking space plagueing Baguio motorists these days, one would be sorely tempted to just stay home and vegetate. The effort of competing for a parking slot is almost guaranteed to make one lose his appetite for dining out.

Thus, this restaurant is perhaps as convenient as convenient can get. Located among the row of establishments near the John Hay Commisary, one need not fight tooth and nail for a slot.

I first heard about Little John’s from my older sisters. "Instead of complaining about there being nothing to do, why don’t you and Enrico check it out and see if you’ll like it," they had said. And so, since it was a lazy Sunday afternoon, my brother and I went.

It’s not too hard to miss Little John’s. The exterior is very rustic, with rough pinewood slats above the entrance and a cowboy saddle right in front of the door. I was pleasantly surprised at how laid-back everything was — the friendly atmosphere, self-service arrangement, and especially, the absence of that annoying bane of most business establishments: the fawning, over-eager waiters and employees.

When you walk into Little John’s you can straightaway head to their display refrigerators to see what you would fancy that day. It is not so different from being at home and picking things out from your refrigerator. (The only difference, of course, is that you have to pay for what you get.) As for the food, my carnivorous brother and I usually order the enormous hamburgers which are served in colorful ceramic plates. Health conscious or picky eaters can opt for curried shrimp, blueberry muffins or the salads. In addition, Little John’s mimics the usual convenience store because you can buy everything you might need there too — be they mints, cigarettes, or even soap and shampoo.

In the cozy, well-lit interiors furnished with blackened pine and rono stick chairs, one can have a nice view of John Hay’s greenery and old suspension bridge. It is a pity that the bridge has fallen into disrepair since it would be life-threatening to even attempt to make it across nowadays. My brother and I have chearful memories of that wooden bridge. We used to position ourselves strategically in the middle and jump up and down to make the footbridge swing. It made us laugh to hear the shrieks and screams of other, less experienced people on it. And of course, that same bridge was also the easiest way to get to the trails, the caves, and the pond. Ah, nostalgia!

At Little John’s, my younger brother especially gets a kick out of the crayons that are on every table. We have a lot of fun doodling on the recycled paper placemats while waiting for our meals to arrive, and although none of our masterpieces have yet found their way to the display window reserved for the "artwork of the day," we keep on drawing anyway.

I don’t know Little John (the proprietor) personally, but I do know that he is the son of Senator Juan Flavier. You can accuse me of stereotyping, but I guess that accounts for the friendly atmosphere of Little John’s. I’m sure that I’m not the only one who thinks that the senator is a genuinely nice guy. It is pleasing to find that this sincere "nice-guy" attitude is carried on by the employees of his son.