Saturday, January 14, 2012

Garlicky dip, catch-up chitchat & sparkling wine

Once a year, the Baguio Writers Group, of which I was once a member who was just glad to help in its revival, regroups at a member's house for good old-fashioned holiday wassail. 2011 had us trekking down to a forest house and immediately laying out our communal spread on a buffet table.

There was a bilao of salads from Luchie with a fiery garlic dip to match, bags of pan de sal fresh out of the oven of Danes Bakery on Mabini street bought by Desiree (Danes is where Baguio folk don't mind standing in line for a dozen of the bread of salt), pancit (I suppose from Teahouse which makes the best), chicken galantina from the hostess' kitchen (she asked first if we were all "hammed out" and we answered in a tone weary of rich meat dishes, yes, we are) and other kutkutins. We were all pleased to see that the dishes brought matched one another despite no menu planning.
Some of us rolled lettuce leaves around slices of galantina and lathered the improvised roll with the pungent garlic dip. "Rapsadoodle"!, as my foodie cousins would exclaim. Merci gamely sliced her pan de sal in two and made herself a pancit sandwich!

On another table was a modest dessert spread of sweet tamarinds from Thailand and chocolate truffles from Belgium. We enjoyed those, too.

Our tummies lined, it was soon time to open the bottles of Don Eduardo (named after the San Miguel Corp. CEO), a rich red, and Asti Spumanti.
Late as usual, Frank texted from downtown that he was on his way and asked if we had any requests. Baboo asked for whisky and I, San Mig's all-malt Premium beer.

Martin predicted that Frank being Frank, he'd bring just a bottle of whisky for Baboo's personal consumption and another bottle of Premium for me. He was right on both counts, except that Frank gave me two bottles. Unexpected was his stash of cans of San Mig Lite, his drink of choice shared with wassail partner Grace and the others.

Later, Martin grew antsy as he aired his apprehension and excitement over his script for a proposed film to be shot fully in Baguio as part of the first Sineng Pambansa Festival (the confirmation came a few days later and I suppose direk Martin is finalizing his cast and scheduling shoots). Everyone volunteered for cameo roles in a bar scene which reflects what drunken sots we can be...some of the time. "Anac ti Pating" will premiere on Independence Day this year. It's a much-needed boost for regional film-making and local talents. The latter Baguio has in spades.

Not all the members could make it--some had left for parts elsewhere, some suffered from food overload (this was on Dec. 28) and were resting from impacho.

I remember that evening so well because I unwisely mixed my drinks. On the way home, I grinned and bore the tummy ache. Once home, I had to excuse myself from my partner's room and let loose a volley of gas. With all that bubbly evaporated, I was relieved beyond words and slept peacefully.
I guess that Grace's state of inebriation at the end of that evening explains why some shots of the party look out of focus.

A tradition at these end-of-the-year parties is the exchange of "pre-loved" books. I brought three from my library to make up for the fact that I didn't have time to prepare anything edible for the feast.

To these fellow travelers in the strange journey of life, here's to another year of writing and reading.

Photos by Grace Subido

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