The mother-and-son team of
Nancy Reyes Lumen and
Joey Reyes Herrera did the
country proud at the Anuga
fair in Germany
THEY worked hard and hand
in hand, and were a bright
asset to the Philippine
exhibit in the Anuga '99 Fair (Oct. 9-14) in Cologne. Nancy
Reyes Lumen we all know: member of the Aristocrat Reyes
family, food stylist, chef, TV cooking demonstrator, food writer,
full-time foodie. Joey Reyes Herrera some may know--her
21-year-old son who could cook from boyhood and read books
like ''Seafood of Southeast Asia'' for fun. ''From hunger,'' Nancy
says of his training, because when he would come home from
school, if the food he wanted was not available, he cooked it.
Today he is enrolled in the hotel and restaurant management
course at the College of St. Benilde, and is an apprentice chef at
Le Souffli and at the Mandarin Hotel.
The Anuga fair happens every two years, and is the world's
largest and best food fair, former ambassador to Germany
Bienvenido Tan swore. He has experienced it twice, and his wife
Emma says that if one goes on the last day, all the food is sold
at giveaway prices, or literally given away, and people bring
shopping carts to haul the excellence away. The food displayed
is, of course, the best the country and the producer can offer,
and reflects current and future trends (e.g. ''meatless meat,''
friction-operated smoke generators, two-minute microwave
cakes).
I went there upon the invitation of the European Chamber of
Commerce to witness the Philippine participation in the global
event. Nancy and Joey were there as a mother-and-son team to
give daily cooking demonstrations.
Giant festival
The Anuga Fair happens in the giant complex called the Koln
Messe, across the river from the breathtaking Cologne
Cathedral. Its 275,000 sq m of space drew 6,559 suppliers and
their exhibits (at least 1,000 from Italy alone). The Philippines
had a good-looking red-white-blue space quite centrally located,
and displaying products old (banana, coconut and camote
chips) and new (Calamansi-Ade, noodles flavored and colored
with vegetables), small (ampalaya tea) and large (yellowfin tuna
steaks and sashimi; Sarangani bangus).
All the exhibitors offered samples of their wares to the trade
visitors (tourists, students, etc. were not admitted except by
special permission and at steep prices) and the press, and so
one could walk around and pick up multicultural lunches and
snacks all day. Many had chefs a-cooking: the Jamaican danced
to reggae as he cooked red tilapia.
The Philippines had Joey cooking with Nancy at the mike
welcoming guests, introducing the Philippines and its food
products, offering samples, and explaining what her son was up
to. Continuously, quietly, steadily and without a single
complaint, Joey cooked: first bangus bellies adobado, served
on Glenda Barretto's saluyot, or squash, or ube noodles (green,
gold, purple; delicious). Nancy explained what bangus was,
what adobo meant, what the colorful noodles were, and how
nutritious they were. At the same time she asked assistants to
pass around samples of the food as well as of drinks like
Calamansi-Ade. So casual and friendly was she that one Filipina
went up to her in the middle of her spiel and asked, ''Puede bang
mag-kape?''
'Kinilaw'
Another day Joey prepared kinilaw/kilawin with the fresh
yellowfin tuna on display, and dressed it with calamansi juice,
tuba vinegar and coconut milk. The exhibit materials
unfortunately described kinilaw as ''akin to seviche,'' a
phraseology I must protest. Kinilaw is one of our oldest dishes,
born of our being an island people, carbon-dated (at the
Agusan balangay diggings) at 1,000 years. It can stand in itself,
not just ''akin to,'' and is probably older than seviche.
Adobo roast is a mother-and-son invention. Nancy says they
developed the recipes together, meaning that she would throw
ingredients in, and Joey would ''edit'' them. Nancy is engaged in
writing a book on adobo. It is a pot roast of pork--adobado,
thus cooked in vinegar and spices. Please note that soy sauce is
not original or necessary to adobo. ''Only vinegar and spices,
and the natural browning of slow cooking,'' says authorities I
have consulted.
Chili Chicken Wings with adobo flavor, was another offering,
and the fresh mango salsa that went on the side of some dishes.
In between, Joey did not wander through the tempting
wonderland of food products--he sliced and diced and prepped;
precooked, planned and plated. Nancy could not wander, either
(''I've only been to the Ladies Room,'' she mourned, ''where the
attendant has a mini-store with camera film and souvenirs''). She
fixed banana chips on trays and decorated them, talked to
whoever asked questions, without interpreters and assistants.
They were a team that worked wordlessly together, and
improvised smoothly, like a pair of actors.
Unlike the other booths, the Philippine space was like a barrio, a
community, with a lot of chatting, coming and going,
discovering connections. Yes, there was serious selling, too,
and merry eating, which we hope will translate into new interest
in the Philippines and its food, and into large, significant orders
for our food, so that it may take its place in the multicultural
universe of food present and future.
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