I saw bottles of lambanog on the stand but our staff told me there is a lot more lambanog where we're heading so there's no need to get one from here.
This lambanog links to a memory of a family, which happens to be that of my wife's great grandparents, Magdalena and Pedro Lecaroz, who brewed lambanog during the war to make ends meet. Their son, Aristeo, former Governor of Marinduque, recalls his life as a kutsero, tending to the horses, as his parents load the lambanog to the kalesa for delivery. Those events were barely 70 years ago. And I'm quite lucky having heard of that story from the Governor in one of our meetings in our efforts to sell one of the old couple's prime lands which they bought from their earnings in lambanog and other products. I have a feeling somewhere around this place a similar scene is happening where a couple and their son are tending to their lambanog deliveries. Of course, the world knows how to reward they who can brew good lambanog wherever and whenever.
Ah, I think of alcohol and this trip gets exciting.
"Sent via BlackBerry from Smart"
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