Himagas

Lolo and Lola were the ideal couple. She stayed home to look after the kids; he worked, managing his jeepney factory. There was no maid to assist her, yet she managed to prepare three meals a day for her brood. Two of those meals (lunch and dinner) were capped by what the old folks called pamutat or himagas.

Loosely translated, both mean dessert.

In our household, there were unwritten rules on which himagas to serve following what main course. Fresh fruits were served when we had an oily or rich viand like adobo, menudo, mechado, or bistek.

“Pang-alis suya” was the term used to describe this himagas function, indicating how fresh fruits’ natural acidity refreshes the mouth. The fruits also provided much-needed fiber and other nutrients, thus balancing the meal.

Not all fruits could be served as himagas. Makopa and camachile are considered too tart to end a meal with. Sampalok (tamarind) has to be cooked into jam-like tamarindo, minus all its seeds.

When our main course was sinigang, tinola, grilled fish, pinakbet, miswa, or monggo, dessert was something sweet, usually fruits or beans cooked in syrup. Sometimes the fruits and beans were candied. There were also days when Lola resorted to canned fruits and bakery-bought pies, mamon, and yema.

Making kidney beans in syrup looks easy, but Lola taught us how tricky the task could be. While most recipes recommend soaking the beans in water overnight, Lola found out the beans could start the sprouting process and turn sour and mealy. To counter this, she recommended boiling the beans in plain water for half an hour, then simmer until the beans are tender but still intact. Only then are the beans drained and cooked in syrup over low heat to prevent the skins from bursting.

The process used for kidney beans also applied to chick peas (garbanzos), white beans, and dried lima beans (patani).

Our dining room had a glass cabinet, which held jars and jars of dessert sweets of all colors that Lola made whenever she found ingredients in season at the Zapote market. Simmered in plain sugar syrup were yellow langka (jackfruit), kidney beans, pink guava, white macapuno, orange mango, amber sweet potato, saba bananas, and purple haleya (ube jam), which lined the locked case.

Every summer, Lola allowed her grandchildren to raid her sweet himagas stash. Lolo allowed the grandchildren to set up a halo-halo stand on the sidewalk in front of his jeepney factory, whose workers welcomed the cold merienda every afternoon. They paid the kids Saturdays after receiving their weekly salary.

The halo-halo stand also sold whole saba in syrup topped with shaved ice and drizzled with evaporated milk. Served in bowls, the half-ripe bananas were peeled and simmered in light syrup until tender. Then they were drained and the syrup was boiled until the syrup thickened. The bananas were returned to the syrup and boiled again for five minutes.

The halo-halo stand was our first experience as entrepreneurs. We learned about capital investment, credit, profit, division of labor, and speculation.

Eight of us grandchildren were involved in the business. We practiced division of labor.

As the eldest, I was in charge of purchasing raw materials, cooking, and bookkeeping. The biggest boys kept the stand and all the equipment clean. The rest helped deliver the merchandise and collect used glasses, plates, and spoons.

We suffered first loss when a strong typhoon suspended all work in private and public offices and work places, sending workers home at noon. We were forced to close shop as our barrio stayed under water for three days.

Fortunately, our ingredients were all preserved in sugar syrup and stayed good in well-sealed glass jars until we resumed business when the water receded and the jeepney factory workers returned to work. Several blocks of ice in the icebox melted, however, eating our profits for the week.

The most special dessert and halo-halo ingredient is leche flan, an egg custard steamed in a mold covered with caramelized sugar. A spoonful of leche flan atop a glass of halo-halo elevates the preparation into special halo-halo, which costs more than the ordinary glass.

Leche flan for halo-halo is steamed in tin molds about three inches across while for dessert at home it is cooked in a mold roughly the size of a big Portola sardine can. This mold, usually made of light aluminum, is called lyanera.

Lyanera is also the name of a ground meat dish using a similar mold. Made of chicken or pork, the colorful dish incorporates sausages and vegetables. When inverted on a serving plate, a beautiful artwork of carved vegetables appears.

The family acquired a refrigerator in the late ’50s, giving Lola a chance to expand her menu, both savory and sweet. A new family favorite, which she loved because it was easy to prepare, was molded gelatin cubes of different flavors and colors. She loved the name Cathedral Windows, which she thought was perfect for the jello-based himagas. — Sol Vanzi