FOR LUNCH I ate Filipino food with my new landlordladyperson and old pal One Cents, thanks to whom all you other San Franfancypants landlordladyasswipes can wipe my ass. Because the next time I move it will be out of this town.

For those of you who are keeping score, this makes four times in less than four years me and Crawdad and Weirdo-the-Cat and however many chickens have had to pack it in and up and over. And none of us likes moving not even one little tiny bit – except for the chickens this time because they get to get out from under the deck and into a big backyard. Not to mention the humans this time, because from now on we get to turn over all our every-last hard-earned dollars to close and personal friends of ours, for a change. So paying rent will be a ticklish pleasure on par with throwing a party, buying presents for loved ones, and walking around with pickle slices stuck to your chin.

Other amenities include a big brick pit for sacrificing pigs and lambs in, garden, garage, fireplace, and a way better neighborhood than Noe Valley: the Mission! I'm back. I've got bad neighborhood news already, though. Yamo Thai Kitchen. Gone. No – worse than gone: It's still there, still the same name and everything, only now they only make vegetarian things. New owners, new cook, no meat. Boo. Hiss.

But what're you gonna do?

I'm going to review a Filipino restaurant, South City Seafood, or "Ihaw Ihaw," which must miraculously mean South City Seafood in Filipino. I can't figure it out. It says South City Seafood all over the place, and then it says Ihaw Ihaw, and then I think there was a third name too. Anyway, all you need to know is El Camino Real in South S.F., roughly across from the Kaiser parking lot and right next door to JoAnn's, the famous breakfast joint.

You go in, they've got plates all over the walls. Plain white plates with notes written on them, signed by who knows who. There's all kinds of sea stuff too, like mounted swordfishies, a net full of plastic crabs and fishes, a little miniature bait shop.

We sat in a booth and ordered enough food to feed four people. We ordered pork sinigang ($8.95), which is a sour soup broth with tamarind, big chunks of onion, tomato, something green, something white – all this and pork, big huge pieces of tender pork, sticking up out of it like rocks in a river, only tastier. One thing about the soup was it was a little too salty, but just about right when you cut it with rice.

We ordered fried tilapia ($6.95), and this was the whole fish, served with a bowl of salsa, sort of. There were fresh chopped tomatoes, green onion, and white onions soaking in soy sauce and vinegar, I think, and entirely unmixed up. Very good.

We had crispy pata ($12.95) – deep-fried pork legs. That's what we were there for, the pata, and we were not disappointed. Two huge bonefuls of meat wrapped in a crispy thick layer of ... what do you call it? Pork rind? Skin? Deep-fried fat? Bacon? My health food dictionary is still packed up somewhere. Anyway, suffice it to say, yodel-eh-hee-hoo.

Now, any one-and-a-half of these three dishes would have been more than enough to feed four people. And this is my favorite thing about Ihaw Ihaw: the portions are huge. We ate and ate and ate and ate and didn't really dent anything, except for the fish.

Which was a mistake, I realized today, eating leftover microwaved fried pork fat for lunch. We should have knocked off the crispy stuff first, heated up the fish later. Of course, the fish was crispy too, but probably didn't depend on it as much as the pork skin.

But, hey, that's what I get paid for, to learn life's little philosophical lessons for the all-around advancement and general good of mankind. Mankindperson.

So what's left is soup. I still have about enough soup to feed me for dinner. And rice. I'm serious, our take-home bag weighed at least five pounds. We got everything all packed up, knocked off the last slurps of our calamansi juices (that's a sweetened citrus drink, like lemonade only calamansis instead of lemons – $2.25) and we sat there for a minute digesting and burping and staring at the fish carcass, all that was left on the table between us.

"Eat the eyeballs," I said.

"You eat the eyeballs," said One Cents.

"No, you eat the eyeballs," I said.

And so on and so forth, we jibberjabbered, echoing down through the ages, tone, tenor, and content, centuries of traditional landlord-tenant dialogue, pretty much word for word.

Ihaw Ihaw. 1129 El Camino Real, South San Francisco. (650) 588-6078. Mon.-Thurs., 11 a.m.-5 p.m.; Fri.-Sun., 11 a.m.-10 p.m. Takeout available. Beer. American Express, MasterCard, Visa. Wheelchair accessible.

Email Dan