Issue link: http://digital.canadawide.com/i/125316
than a penny and are a local delicacy. Espiritu leads me to Lake Manapao, a nearby tarn in the San Pedro district, where fishermen in outriggers check crab traps by a steamy tangle of acacia and coconut palms. One fellow poles over and shows me how to catch sinarapan using a broad, fine, triangular net like a giant sieve that lifts thousands of flittering fish from the loamy, black water. Here I also discover that the Filipino reputation for hospitality is not overblown. On the walk back from the lake, we meet Socorro Cedaria, the matronly captain of the region, who invites us for lunch at her house. Never mind that her daughter got married yesterday and the family hosted a feast for 500 people; Cedaria insists we stay. So we ease into plastic lawn chairs under a palm-roofed pavilion, wilting in the steamy heat as the family hurries out a meal. I sit with a scrum of men who, still carousing after the wedding, are three bottles deep in Tanduay, the local rum. Ignoring my protests – it's 11 a.m.! – they hand me the bottle and the communal glass. Then comes the food: a bowl of pork stew called potzero; our catch of sinarapan, sautéed with ginger, tomatoes and local greens; and a side of fresh pineapple and fermented shrimp. I'm amazed at the warmth and impromptu kindness. Cedaria had no idea I was coming, nor any incentive to lay out a spread. And yet here she is, urging me to refill my plate. As sweat rolls off my forehead, my body labouring under the weight of all the food, I smile at Cedaria and pile on the pork and pineapple. T 32 G O I N G P L A C E S p28-33_Phillipines.indd 32 >> he plate in front of me looks more like a miniature Miró sculpture than dinner: fiery coral, fist-size prawns balanced in geometric opposition atop alternating layers of olive green summer 2013 13-04-12 1:09 PM