How the week was won

Guess how? Through the inevitable lunches with friends the most recent and undocumented of which was a meeting at Mary Grace Robinsons Galleria with old pal Jenny Llaguno. We exchanged stories, she gave me a book for my husband Rolly's collection and before we knew it two hours had passed. What a lift after the gray morning weather.

Earlier in the week, on a Monday, it was sunny and dry, perfect for the now yearly reunion of our unnamed group of amigas y amigos. The amigos, Pablo Tariman and Isah V. Red, were indisposed (subtext for rushing to meet writing deadlines). But I was just too glad to take a break from writing and editing and stretch my lumbering body a bit.

Meeting place was Cafe Juanita in Kapitolyo, Pasig, the kikay resto in my 'hood. I thought I'd make it ahead of everyone, but Joy Buensalido's car was parked outside--I recognized her driver. Next came Jingjing Romero who pulled a roll-on luggage behind her. She had just come from a staycation at Marco Polo Ortigas Manila with Margie T. Logarta. But where was Marge? She was still taking a shower when Jingjing checked out of the hotel.

Clockwise: Ester Dipasupil, Babeth, Joy Buensalido and Jingjing Romero

Our usual Do Re Mi picture. I like the "prints" on Margie's dress. She's standing at the bottom of the stairs (left).

Second to the last to arrive was Ester Dipasupil wearing what Margie described as a Dennis the Menace outfit (denim overalls with striped red and white tee underneath). We were almost done with lunch (ampalaya salad, puso ng saging sisig, beef ribs adobo, callos, fried fish whose exact name I've forgotten not being a fan of anything beyond bangus) when Margie strode in with her own bag on wheels.

Generous Joy had a bag of Maya goodies for everyone (Pablo, you still have to pick up yours at our house). She also had a printed voile blouse for Jingjing. But the latter was still in mourning for her mother so she didn't want to wear something so colorful. I claimed the blouse for myself when I saw how roomy it was. Sorry, too much girl talk and gestures.

Much of the content of our conversation deserves to be heard in a confessional box so I will fast forward to a Thursday lunch at Victorino's Restaurant on the intersection of Scout Rallos and 11th Jamboree streets, Kyusi. My reasons for going there was to interview Anton Juan and to meet up with another group of friends. And to wear, nay, flaunt the gift blouse from Joy and Jingjing.

With ageless enfant terrible Anton J. Photo by Niña Simunek

After we finished with official business, I was taken aback by Anton's question: "So, Babeth, did you ever marry?" My girlfriends, including his niece Niña Simunek, all burst out laughing. I put to rest his wrong impression, saying, "I am married and have two children and one grandchild."

He clung to his impression, adding that "you look pure and virginal. I cannot imagine you having that look of desire."

At this point, my girlfriends started agreeing with him, saying, "It's because you're hardly seen together with your husband."
Anton's Manang Jenny agreed and in all seriousness said, "It's because, Babeth, you never seem to be in a rush to hurry home to cook for anyone. But your nurturing side is very strong."

Well, after 35 years of marriage to Rolly, this is just about the second time someone like Anton mistook me for a singleton, much less a virgin (sabay ilag). The first ones who thought I was single, and this was only a few years ago, were Nympha Sano and her hubby Stef. I also had to correct their "misimpression."

Later, as we had our picture taken together, I told Anton pointedly, "My husband happens to be tall and handsome." His eyes grew wide. Somebody piped up, "He wears a beard, too, and he's a good provider."

I hope that settles that. Love you, Anton. Working on my follow-up questions but please get over your jet lag first.

Ladies who lunch

There's this Stephen Sondheim song "The Ladies Who Lunch" from the musical Company. Its lyrics rewind in my mind whenever I'm out with my gang of girls (yes, we revert to girlish ways). The girls write, edit, do public relations and overall work with words. Cleo Laine, Carol Burnett, Patti Lupone, even Barbra Streisand have versions of the same song, each worth listening to.

I like to be early for these lunches and watch the girls come in one by one or two by two--usually Angge Goloy comes in second, this time with her Australia-based geologist daughter Yayay (here for her St. Scholastica's College high school silver jubilee, among other reasons).

Then what Angge calls "the advance party" of a "schoolbus" sub-group, Chato Garcellano, my editor for many years, follows with the more leisurely walkers Ester Dipasupil and Corito Llamas a few minutes behind her. Missing was Lynett AdVillariba who had wifely duties.

What I love about our group: the huge smiles, hugs and cheek-to-cheek kisses with which we greet each other before we settle down for a huge lunch and almost simultaneous talking. I like to lean back, listen and watch them make happy talk about life, work, family.

Ladies who lunch transform into "bag" ladies at the stroke of 2 p.m. (from left): Giselle Amanda Goloy, a.k.a. Yayay, Chato Garcellano, Ester Dipasupil with me behind her, Nini Yarte, Corito Llamas, Angge Goloy and Joy Buensalido

We make time to get together at least four times in a year. It seems time is never enough. SOP is lunch, followed by coffee and dessert elsewhere.

This time Angge and Yayay picked out Nikkei Peruvian Resto-Bar at The Podium in Ortigas Center. Portions were conservative but delish. I came out satisfied with my salmon teriyaki--crisp outside, tender in the inside with a sauce a tad sweetish for this diabetic.

Interiors of Nikkei at The Podium. Love the shafts of light on the heads of the customers

Inevitably, there is always someone having a birthday in the group so we each whip out our presents for the young Yayay who swears by improvements in her health because of the Keto diet. I gave her a copy of my book of essays Catholic and Emancipated (published by UST Publishing House in 2011) which her mom says will make good reading as Yayay prepares for her class' 25th anniversary. In turn she gave her titas who lunch a box each of Australian tea leaves.

Yayay and her Tita Babeth lean on each other

Latecomer Nini Yarte's only excuse as she arrived while we were all finished with lunch was: "I was made for dinner!" And she handed to Yayay the quaintest gift of all, a Himalayan lamp, I think.

At Ca Va Cafe where we enjoyed our coffee with bibingka crepe. Clockwise: Babeth, Ester Dipasupil, Nini Yarte, Joy Buensalido, Angge Goloy, Corito Llamas, Chato Garcellano and Giselle Amanda Goloy

Lovely decorative touches within Ca Va-- dried flowers, birdcages and lanterns

The excitement over seeing one another hadn't died down so we moved over to the cafe called Ca Va for cappuccinos for some, lattes for the others and one bibingka crepe for sharing among the eight of us.

When I got home, thanks to the "schoolbus" of Corito, I sighed deeply and thanked the universe for the gift of friendship.

Photos from the cameras of Giselle Amanda Goloy and Joy Buensalido

Paseo de nom nom

I believe that woman writer who described ladies' lunches as pampahaba ng buhay.

Another semi-retired media colleague (the other being me) Angelina "Angge" Goloy can be counted to efficiently manage an event, even if it's just for five ladies who occasionally lunch. Our respective birthdays are spread out in the year so periodic reunions can be expected in the months of April, May, June, August, September, give or take a few delays when schedules can't be matched. In December, there is another goodwill and gift exchange lunch.

I've lost count of the number of years we've been doing this. What I clearly recall is how they all fall on a Monday, days off of the girls who're still deeply engaged in newspaper work.

For Corito Llamas' sexy-something natal day, we went on a day trip to Tagaytay's Bag of Beans, she wearing a blouse (Indian textile) that she herself sewed. Our journey, as they say, was more interesting than the destination. In fact, it was a barrel of laughs that our pit stops along the highway were meant to decompress, stretch our curled legs and giggle some more. To say we were packed like sardines in a can is an understatement.

At Bag of Beans' new extension area, the balcony, three of us had the bangsilog with atchara (daing na bangus, garlic rice, eggs), having left the city with hardly or no breakfast. The two others ordered steak, mashed potatoes, pasta and pizza like there was no tomorrow. That's Ester Dipasupil, me, Chato Garcellano, birthday girl Corito and Angge.

The security guard who took our pic wanted to include everything, especially his employer's sign board. Expectedly, the strict gourmet in Corito (she founded the magazine Food, now part of ABS-CBN Publishing) brooked no nonsense from the service staff. She frankly told them we were having our coffee and pastries elsewhere because their service was poor. So there!

In our search for a coffee shop with comfortable air conditioning (Tootsie's was closed - the staff had gone on an excursion), we found ourselves at Sonja's Garden, but it had a set menu. So we used the time to smell the flowers and wander in and out of the souvenir shops and garden pathways. That's Ester trying on an Ophelia wreath. And then we got rained in, but the quick rains cooled the air.

Angge and Corito underneath the gauzy whatchamacallit and twisted vines. Atmospheric and ambience-rich, it's the perfect spot for honeymooners, balikbayan visitors and tourists in their own country.

We found heaven in a petit cup and a platito of nom nom ensaymada, the best we've had outside Metro Manila (without prejudice to Hizon's and Cunanan's home-baked ensaymada). Antonio's Garden wasn't just clean, bright, spacious, with a splendid view of the volcano and the lake; the staff was attentive, too.

Smilingly satisfied, we pose for our last class picture before these Jills hit the road.

Living for more sights and Mondays like these. Happy birthday, Corito! Wishing you more!

Some photos by Babeth Lolarga

Soul in the city

Blessed are they who garden and who weed for they banish the cares and worries of beholders.

Thank you, Ester Dipasupil, for making an enchanting pocket paradise out of a spot on the intersection of Sgt. Bumatay and Laura Streets in Mandaluyong City that is growing more concrete edifices than much-needed trellises of green. Thus have you "ensouled" the place. Photos by Babeth Lolarga