I’ve taken a breather from blogging for a more significant endeavor but while my mind was busy with other things my heart longed for updates on this site. Now that things have settled down a bit, I’ve started to collect my thoughts and have lined up so many things to share with you.
First, I’m going to tell you our escapade in Tapaz, Capiz last May 15, 2020. It was the first time I’ve set foot in San Julian, where many of my relatives from the father side lived from generations to generations. It took us two hours to reach the town due to a rerouting caused by a minor damage in one of the bridges in Lambunao. The road was terrible but the bonus was we were able to see the town of Bingawan. It’s quite remote and far from major highways so it’s not often that you see this charming little town.
We were invited by Raidz, another friend of mine to visit their hometown. It’s the fiesta of San Julian and since it’s far from the city, we expected to taste some dishes cooked in the traditional way without the artificial taste of Magic Sarap. When we arrived around 10:30 a.m., ibos was the first thing they served accompanied by slices of sweet ripe mangoes. Then came a steaming bowl of binakol, tinola na baboy with ubad and monggo and a platter of pork hamonada prepared by their cook whom everybody hires when there are fiestas. We were the first to taste the dishes since the other guests were still in the church for the mass. The other dishes were still being cooked in the backyard in large dulasi and kalderos. I ate a lot of tinola na baboy with ubad and monggo. It seemed I’ve never eaten them for so long a time.
In the province, every house you visit has something to offer, it’s either you eat lunch again or just taste their desserts ranging from the fruits they specially reserved for the fiesta to their proudly made buko-pandan salad. The host would always want you to eat something. It’s kind of hard to refuse sometimes. Before we go, each of us received a plastic bag with achara (pickled papaya) a cup of fruit salad and a bunch of ibos inside. These were simple gestures of generosity and hospitality we often miss in the city.
