It used to be that San Miguel beer was the Philippines' most respected and famous global brand (although I hear in Europe many people think it comes from Spain). Now Jollibee is clearly in the running, if it hasn't already eclipsed our beloved pale pilsen. Its empire spans the Pacific between Hong Kong and San Francisco's Bay Area, anywhere there are large Filipino communities.

Last month, Discovery Channel broadcast a documentary cum tribute to Tony Tan Caktiong, the fast food giant's founder, touted as the first Filipino to be featured in Discovery's documentary program, "Crossings." It seems Asians are proud that an Asian fast food brand has actually beaten the American champ, McDonald's, in its own game, at least here on our home turf -- perhaps akin to our national baseball team beating theirs in Rizal Stadium, which has never happened of course (although my late Lolo used to tell me stories of Babe Ruth playing an exhibition game there, but that's a far different story).

Not everyone is in love with Jollibee. The Sassy Lawyer, a prolific blogger who is also a foodie and columnist named Connie Veneracion, has written a sassy column rejecting the idea that "Jollibee embodies Filipino food and culture," a general sentiment she noticed in a popular UP alum forum (www.peyups.com).

If anything, she says at the outset, Jollibee merely shows our talent at imitation, in this case of American fast food. Then she offers a withering critique of its limited menu items. She concludes that Jollibee's success is purely a case of savvy marketing, and is using it to obliterate true Pinoy cuisine in the provinces.

I have a more ambivalent sentiment about Jollibee. First of all, I am old enough to remember the first Jollibee outlet on Aurora Blvd, which was mainly an ice cream parlor next to Stella Maris, a girls' school. The burgers back then weren't bad too, and were already adapted to the Filipino palate. And for my high school buddies and I, there was the added pleasure of wolfing down those first Yumburgers while ogling Stella Maris girls. Jollibee's only competition in those early days was Tropical Hut, whose most popular branch was not as pleasantly located (it was near La Salle Greenhills, and we had no interest in ogling La Sallistas).

Jollibee has since come a long way, and so has our globalized world. But now I'm wise enough to know that it might one day make Filipinos as obese as Americans. Jollibee is far from being my preferred Pinoy culinary ambassador to the rest of the world.

But the silly mascot is somehow reassuring for the scattered souls of the Filipino diaspora. While I was a temporary resident in California a few years ago, spying a Jollibee in a suburb was a sight for homesick eyes.