"Sa Balaw-Balaw ba?" I asked my kumpadre Danny Alcasid, when he broached over the weekend the idea of going on a trip to Angono, the quaint and lovely Rizal town nestled by Laguna de Bay.
"We’ll decide on the rest of the itinerary when we’re there," Danny said, while we were finishing the arroz caldo, the main dish of our regular Saturday breakfast at their house.
So on board the Pregio, with Arnel Santiago Domingo at the wheel, we — Danny, my kumadre Beng and godchildren Hazel and Karelle, my kumadre Glecy Magat and my niece Dhelia Go-Floresca — took to the road. From the South Luzon Tollway, we turned right on C-5, turned right again at the Ortigas Junction and followed the route passing through portions of Rosario (Pasig), Cainta, Antipolo, and Taytay. Then, at the point where two roads lead to Angono, we took the bend to the diversion road leading to Binangonan and saw immediately on the left side Balaw-Balaw’s prominent marker.
We turned left and parked right before the restaurant’s foyer, highlighted by two heads of higantes perched on mountain stone blocks hemmed in by some indigenous ornamental plants and an arch made of old wooden posts. The piedra china on the steps and landing of the foyer complemented the setting. And, as in the past, I liked what I saw inside, too.
A century-old image of the Risen Christ is enshrined in an antique urna at the left side of the main dining area, accented by some folk art pieces, including papier mache fruits hanging from the rafters (I missed, though, the angels and the ibon used in the salubong). In the atrium space between the restaurant and the gallery, there’s a pocket garden, with its pond gleaming in the sun. There’s also a sculpture of a woman holding a conch shell tambuli. Beside it is the sculpture of a dalagang Filipina on a hammock hanging from a pole borne by two men on their shoulders while a man playing the guitar towers above them. On the wall of the foyer facing the garden of bamboo, heliconia, anahaw, pakpak-lawin and other ferns hangs the late Perdigon Vocalan’s mural of an Angono scene.
When we visited, Vocalan was still in their house a few blocks away while his wife Baby was already busy supervising preparations for a wedding reception to be held at the main dining area. At the opportune time, I said hello to Baby, complimented her on how well she looked these days, asked about Digon’s state of health, and introduced everyone to her. She said Digon was coming by in a short while.
As we were eight in the group, I requested for a table setting in the gallery foyer facing the pocket garden. It was a good choice, really, as later on, we would all be enthralled by the rainforest-effect of the mist coming from the recently-installed drift irrigation system hidden among the rafters.
As the table was being readied, the waiter took our orders. He suggested sinigang na kanduli (crawfish) sa miso and pesang dalag (mudfish) for soup (we ordered both) and gulaman at sago for drinks (we also asked for bottled water).
As our food server waited for our main entrée, Baby V. (she took time out from the wedding reception arrangements) came by and told the waiter to give us the family-size minaluto.
Having decided on the menu, I told the group to go see the built- in, multi-level art gallery. I told them I was joining them as soon as I was done taking some photos.
That’s when I saw Digon giving instructions to the carpenters working on the three-level extension. Was he surprised to see me, as I did not even call about our visit! And was he surprised that we came all the way from the other side of Laguna de Bay just to see him and have lunch at Balaw-Balaw!
By the time we were done with a quick round of the gallery, the table had been set, complete with several bottles of mineral water, tall glasses of gulaman at sago laced with pandan, two clay pots filled to the brim with steaming sinigang na kanduli sa miso and pesang dalag and three kinds of sauces. But no balaw-balaw!
The waiter dashed to the kitchen when I asked for the tangy sauce made from fermented rice mixed with tiny shrimps from the lake. It was perfect with the pesang dalag.
Then came the two guys carrying a native steamer — a round, flat bamboo basket with a hat-like covering — that they laid in a huge vat already steaming atop a gas burner stove. It’s the minaluto, a sumptuous array of chicken-pork adobo, steamed crab, mussels and sugpo (large shrimps), fried pusit (calamari) and kanduli, steamed okra, crispy kangkong, halved salted eggs, and slices of tomatoes arranged around a mound of steaming rice on top of layers of banana leaves. When the waiter lifted the steamer’s lid, vapor escaped from the bamboo steamer and filled the foyer with a very delicious aroma. Was I hungry!
"Kain na po! Enjoy your lunch," the waiter told us. And before leaving us to attend to the other diners, he told us just to call him in case we needed something.
We took turns getting food from the steamer, returning every now and then for a second helping. As for me, I had three helpings and finished all the balaw-balaw served at my end of the table! Whew!
Shortly after paying our bill, we resumed our tour of the gallery, had fun posing with the higantes’ heads lined up beside a long antique table at the second level, and had photos by the restaurant’s entrance, before saying good bye to Baby V.
Digon was in the house getting ready as he was standing as a ninong in a wedding in town.
From there, we went to the Angono poblacion to buy fried itik (duck) from one of the stalls near the municipio and visit the Blanco Family Museum.
On the way back, we took the floodway route to avoid the weekend traffic in the Cainta-Antipolo-Taytay area, only to discover that a long portion of the road was bumpy and not quite good for heavy tummies. Oh, well… I disregarded the road condition and entertained instead some musings about what we just did — traveled a long way just to see friends at Balaw-Balaw Restaurant, enjoyed good food and dwelled on the arts at the same time.
"Sa Balaw-Balaw ba?"
Anytime, all the time!