Sol, Christine and moi

It took us some time to find Marcia Adams, a Mediterranean restaurant in Alfonso, Cavite. We followed Google Map and drove back and forth near it, but just couldn’t find it.

Christine had been there some time ago and liked the ambience, and wanted to take us with her back. I’ve read it profiles itself as the Tuscany of Tagaytay.

We didn’t want to lose more time getting lost so we asked the vendors on the road, and they knew the place. We were just a few meters from it, from the main road.

There were cars parked outside the resturant which looked like a usual gated house with a big garden. The signboard was also small.

The garden was wild and interesting.

Marcia Adam window

It has rustic interiors with old wooden chairs, hardwood tables and floor with decorative cement tiles that some bloggers call Machuca tiles. And I like that it feels open. There is an area that is walled, here’s where it feels like Tuscany. I like the window overlooking a field that gets shades of yellow as the sun sets.

The other area is like a huge roofed terrace – it’s wide open. We decided to sit here, so we could talk loudly about the last 16 years.

The last time I saw Christine and Sol was in UPLB 1988. She is my former roommate at the nun-run St Therese dormitory, and he my fellow Pandayan (Pandayan is a political party at the University of the Philippines, LB).

They haven’t changed physically, except for a few kilos – a sign of wealth – and some white hair – a sign of maturity. I have some white hair now, too. I just dye my hair :-).

Sol is one of the bosses at Meralco, the largest electric company in the Philippines. Christine, a professor at the University of the Philippines Los Baños – a university that plays influential role in Asian agriculture and biotechnology.

My intellectual friends, once crazy students.

During our university years, Sol was like an older brother, he used to sing songs to and with me when I felt sad over my nasty love life. The songs soothed my ailing heart.

Come to think of it, my distressed love tale is not the worse kind. It’s a normal tale of a young broken heart.  Everyone goes through that. It’s just that the first time you ever get dumped feels nastiest  – because you don’t know exactly how to fix it. Later on, you realise that the heart can take of itself. It’s one tough organ, and you need not bother giving it energizers in the form of cigarettes, beer or what not.

That’s where Christine comes in. She’s one tough cookie. So loved by her brothers and parents that she has found a strong sense of security. She is tough, but kind. And damn, so brilliant with numbers. I’m not surprised she has become a professor.

So it started to rain while we were eating. It poured hard with loud thunder that I felt somehow uneasy. But my friends didn’t even bat an eyelid. They are used to strong rain and thunder, they said. “It would soon go away, don’t worry.”

As I tried to keep my mind off the weather, a waiter started putting the glass panes back in place to keep us from getting wet. Yes, that open area at Marcia Adams can be closed when rain comes.

I also kept my mind on the food. I liked Sol’s order, a huge pork chop that was bigger than any chop of pork I’ve ever seen. It tasted good, too. (Being the big brother that he is, he let my fork dive into his plate). I didn’t like my dish so much, octopus. The size of the meat led our conversation into Belgian Blue.

Lunch plus dessert and  tea cost us around 1000 pesos per head.

The co-owner of the restaurant, Marcia’s husband Neil, was friendly and talked to us at length about solar power – a topic my friends actually specialise in.

We were here in September 2014.