Beyond Brushstrokes
By Maria Victoria Rufino
April has been a totally different experience. Instead of the Semana Santa tradition and rites, all churches were closed. The quarantine and surprise lockdown forced people to stay home for several weeks. Those who live in the city have to follow the protocol and strict security restrictions for health reasons.
One copes by evoking the happy memories of Baguio, the best summer place and its food trips.
Here are some edited excerpts from my old essay “Epicurean Delights and Daydreams.”
“A reverie is a soothing balm, my respite from angst and the pressure of reality.
“Confined in the smoggy, stressful urban jungle, I switch to a daydream mode. It is a survival tactic — tapping into my imagination and memory. I conjure the golden images of those carefree childhood summers in our beloved Baguio. It is like watching an old color movie enhanced by the mind’s own digital technology. It has the sensory pleasures of sound, texture, taste, flavor and fragrance.”
Our family and extended clan used to spend all our holidays and summers in the mountains. Two cousins and I were born in April, at the same hospital. We practically grew up in Baguio.
Every April, our parents would take us on the much-awaited trek to the city of pines. It was a long drive up the narrow zigzag, but the heady mountain air and fresh pine scent energized us instantly.
I often have this deep longing to return on a time machine to that magical era.
We had a lovely summer pale pink home with a stone fireplace and a chimney. It had high ceilings, pinewood stairs, big bedrooms, an attic, and a huge open terrace for soirees.
The sun-drenched garden was picture-perfect. It smelled of fragrant flowers, grass and pines. There were several riprap terraces with dew-kissed yellow dahlias, lilac and blue milflores (hydrangeas) and pink roses neatly arranged in rows.
This romantic garden was the setting for the serendipitous first meeting with my karmic love who recalled it vividly, decades later. I was then only a toddler learning how to walk and ride a pony.
Daddy and Mommy were certified foodies, bon vivant hosts who loved to entertain and serve good food to hundreds of friends at their legendary, production-level theme parties. (Despite my early aversion to food, I eventually evolved into a foodie.)
Daddy was a wonderful natural chef who could cook some of the best tasting family specialties. He had great taste, a magic, intuitive touch — oido — and he never had to read recipes. Mommy, a style-setter, was the perfect complement. She used to bake exquisite cakes and arranged the elegant table setting with fresh roses, heirloom silver, fine porcelain and crystal.
Baguio was the opposite of Manila in style and pace. We had the relaxed, intimate ambience of the family and time to enjoy a leisurely pace. We usually had a houseful of cousins who spent weeks with us.
Mommy had to organize meals like a general overseeing a military operation for a battalion. The kitchen produced two sets of meals at precise hours. We always ate on time and had to finish the food on our plates.
There were two long tables — the formal table in the dining room indoors for my parents and their guests, and the informal one on the outdoor terrace for the kids.
We belonged to the early set — lunch at 11 a.m. and dinner at 7 p.m. As young, boisterous kids, we had permanent places at the table with festive, red-checkered cloth and our personalized chairs. Our names were inscribed on the top of the backrests.
Baguio transformed this picky eater and stimulated my latent appetite. It must have been the cool climate, the fog, altitude, zestful activities and the enticing fragrances and scents all around us.
Breakfast would consist of hot, thick, chocolate with crispy pinipig, pan de sal (from Sunshine Bakery near Burnham park), Ovaltine and milk, champorrado or hot oatmeal, queso de bola, Spam, Packang chicken (the ultimate favorite Sunday delicacy of our Lola), pancakes, bacon strips, strawberry jam made by the Pink Sisters, and fresh fruits.
The aroma of lunch and dinner was always heavenly. We were famished after running around all day. The buffet had different dishes — adobo, mechado, lengua, pochero, bistek Tagalog, sinigang, arroz a la Cubana, paella Valenciana, baked macaroni, chicken relleno, fried chicken, bangus.
For merienda or dessert, we had a delicate leche flan made with carabao milk, ube jalea, bibingka made with sticky rice and molasses, suman. It was almost an exercise in non-stop eating.
My popular older brothers used to hold soirees. We had special kiddie parties like my seventh birthday with “Winnie” roast, toasted marshmallows, hotdogs, burgers with French fries, spaghetti with meatballs and cheese, scoops of Magnolia pineapple-rainbow ice cream, loot bags filled with M&M’s, Tootsie Rolls, and Chocnut.
The best crunchy pilipit (a crisp brown twist with a glaze), Senorita lemon drops and Chocnut were found at a small store across St. Joseph’s church on Pacdal Road.
Chocnut and riding horses were my luxuries. I used to earn (and save) money by doing odd chores like polishing the antique coins of my maternal Lolo and painstakingly shining my Dad’s bespoke shoes.
“I am a confessed ‘chocoholic’ — especially on stressful days and anxiety-filled nights. It releases ‘feel good’ endorphins and hormones that replicate the sensation of falling in love. Chocolate calms the nerves and gives me the adrenaline rush”… on big events such as my art exhibit opening night or book launch.
Chocolate and prayers work better than a tranquilizer or a vitamin shot.
Food seems to be the centerpiece of all our important milestones. Eating well is a family-bonding trait. The next generations have developed the similar taste, flair and enthusiasm for gourmet cuisine, fine chocolates, and simple comfort food.
“We all indulge in epicurean daydreams and find immense comfort in food. Fortunately, we have been blessed with an efficient metabolic system and an active lifestyle to burn the sinful calories.”
The intimate family gatherings and all outdoor activities are temporarily on hold during the dreary, solitary lockdown. Fortunately, Zoom is convenient for online bonding — the Papal Masses and blessings, prayers for healing and peace. Despite the difficulties of the crisis, we had our “remote” Easter egg hunt, egg painting and the traditional Easter dinner. Our hearts are filled with gratitude and love for all the blessings.
Maria Victoria Rufino is an artist, writer and businesswoman. She is president and executive producer of Maverick Productions.
