My friend Joseph Uy and I tasted the first mangoes of summer at the Molina residence in Quezon City last week. During the days and nights leading to that Saturday lunch, Joseph and I exchanged heated text messages about how we imagined the mango crepe to be prepared by tenor-vocal coach Pablo Molina would taste in our mouth. Everyone from the Viva Voce ensemble who had tried it was raving about it and making us envious.
At one point, Joseph waxed poetic and musical and said the scent of the Grand Marnier being cooked was enough to make him hit a high C.
Our SMS conversation took a turn for the ridiculous when Joseph tried to push our trip to the Molinas to an earlier time just in case we could be served dessert first. He texted: "How about we leave at 9:30?"
"Too early," I texted back. "How about 10:30?"
We were early in the end, waiting for lunch to be served while Camille Lopez Molina wrapped up private lessons with two students. I thought Joseph was becoming gaunt from his ravenous hunger.
When the healthy Mediterranean fare was brought out from the kitchen (seafood pasta, chicken and vegetable kebabs and salad), we hungry hippos quickly dug in. I don't know how many servings we each had, but Joseph had to ask for Coke Zero to be bought at a nearby grocery so we could all burp and create some space for the crepes.
Pablo was the perfect host. He gave us extra squeezes of cream for the dessert worth crossing several cities and enduring Saturday traffic for. Thank you, Molina family! We ask only to be adopted by you.
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