OK, I’m making up for the piss and vinegar I spilled last week for something quite the opposite this week — a happy wedding! Exactly a week ago, my family and I attended my cousin Bianca Zobel’s wedding at her family’s Edenic hacienda in Calatagan, Batangas, and it was a memorable and fabulous affair. I don’t typically write about weddings as those are usually reserved for the seasoned-with-posh-salt society columnists, but this one was particularly special for many good reasons — and at any rate I thought I’d try my hand at this sort of name-dropping, flash-popping champagne journalism instead of the usual fish-wrap crap I dish out, and see if I might just acquire a taste for it; at the same time tipping my reporter’s hat to the pros at this game, like the immortal Maurice Arcache and his most likely successor, Pepper Teehankee, who were both in attendance doing the things they do best — chronicling the nocturnal skylarking of Manille’s (as Don Maurice coined it) movers and shakers. And move and shake they did, as not one but two bouncing big bands jumped in full swing while Bombi Balquiedra worked the turntables and the crowd into a sweaty frenzy of ball gowns and barong tagalogs.
The Zobels are special people in our lives as they are not only family but good friends. Iñigo and Maricris were highly instrumental in realizing my lifelong dream of creating a truly unique Philippine lifestyle magazine — that magazine is of course, Rogue. Their total commitment and unwavering support for the magazine were catalysts of its sudden impact success in just four years. Those four years have brought us closer to them, and when their first child, Bianca, broke the news she was engaged to her boyfriend, Chris Warns, a guy I immediately got along with the moment I met him, we knew their wedding was going to be a great occasion and an epic party.
What made the ceremony particularly significant for Rita and I was that Bianca had asked us if our first child, Camila Isabel (turning five this month), would be one of her flower girls. We were of course honored and beaming with pride to see Cami walk down the aisle as part of Bianca and Chris’s regal entourage, especially since we knew that she loved doing it because it made her feel like a little princess. Moreover, the event was sentimental because it brought back some childhood memories of my own: More than 30 years ago, I myself had walked down that very same aisle holding a soft, satin pillow bearing the wedding rings Maricris and Iñigo would give each other as a symbol of their love when they were married.
The Santo Domingo de Silos Church in Calatagan naturally seemed so much bigger then, which all the more impressed upon me the understated elegance of what many social spectators might describe as a merging and consolidation of the Zobel and Madrigal clans, two wealthy and influential families that have been closely linked years before the patriarchal polo-playing days of Chris’s father, Vicente “Bu” Warns and Bianca’s grandfather Don Enrique Zobel, who Chris lovingly envisioned in his endearing rehearsal dinner speech as smiling down upon them from Heaven as they relax in their easy chairs chatting about “agriculture or horses or whatever… guns.” This drew a genuine din of fond laughter and teary-eyed smiles from the guests that gathered to listen to his speech; it was very much the Chris I met: a soft-spoken sense of humor and obvious love and understanding of family.
The incredibly delectable rehearsal dinner was held the eve before the wedding at another fairy tale hacienda, Susana Madrigal Bayot-Ortigas’s seaside Hacienda Sonrisa, where a barrio fiesta was prepared for members of the wedding entourage and visiting out-of-towners. As soon as guests walked into the palatial Mediterranean home, the mingling ensued in fluid-like motion as familiar faces approached each other to schmooze and uniformed waiters passed around wine stems and hors d’oeuvres that, in a sea of tipsy small talk, were too sophisticated to remember exactly what they were without taking down notes. They were like little dreams that vanished upon waking. I do remember a delicate, texturally tongue-tickling asparagus spear tempura-type thing that could have been wrapped in pancetta, although I could be wrong. I e-mailed Margarita Forés, who is always one of the most pleasant faces you see at any event, and particularly heartwarming when you know she’s in charge of the kitchen that night, and asked about her menus. Two dishes that stood out supremely were the large Wagyu short ribs stewed in a love-infused braise that was both decadent and soul-comforting, and God bless Margarita’s family recipe for lamb adobo, which looked and tasted like it had been cooked for 10 hours, simmering over a low, gentle flame, and watched and nurtured and cared for by wise, old women who take pride in feeding their families well. There were of course lechons everywhere, perfectly roasted so that their skin crisped up to a deep and shimmering red-bronze tan and cracked open like the surface of a creme brulee. Pancit Heaven: sotanghon noodles surrounded by a dizzying array of toppings, sauces, and side dishes — including Margarita’s secret aligue that I swear has magical properties — that made my head spin in degustatory fervor.
From the Madrigals’ corner, we are good friends with Mary De Leon’s stepchildren Kristina and Rob Mijares, who flew in from their homes in Costa Rica and San Francisco respectively. Kristina and Chiara, her sweet daughter with Cebuano entrepreneur Derrick Chiongbian, were also part of the bridal entourage. Chris’s immediate family members included his proud mom, Marian Warns, and brothers Herman, Gustav, and Karl. I saw Joe Vincent and Mary Beth De Leon’s son Iñigo with his girlfriend, Nina, who I believe went to the same high school I did. I also met a few of the Bayots for the first time that night and found them all to be good, smart, and decent people. I spotted the classy and philanthropic Chuchu Madrigal Eduque from a distance with her husband, Mandy, but didn’t get a chance to say hello; I’m not sure if she even remembers me as I hadn’t seen or spoken to her since I was about 10. Also in attendance were Ging Montinola and her husband, Gigi, who is president of the Ayala-owned Bank of the Philippine Islands and one of the sponsors in the wedding. Senator Jamby Madrigal and real estate scion Paqui Ortigas were absent for reasons inappropriate to discuss here.
The wedding ceremony itself was perfect: short, sweet, understated, yet glowing with all the charm and romance of a quaint, small-town wedding, not unlike those celebrated in rustic villages in places like Palermo or Stylida. This was not a typical, over-inflated San Antonio Church-style wedding, as most would come to expect from families as landed as the Zobels and Madrigals. It was more a traditional Calatagan barrio wedding, only weighted by powerful guests and sponsors like Iñigo’s San Miguel boardmate and Danding Cojuangco’s right hand man, the enigmatic Ramon Ang, who walked the agelessly beautiful Dee Zobel down the aisle and rode shotgun in Iñigo’s brand-new 2012 Porsche Cayenne from the church to the reception. Other heavy-weight sponsors included my uncle, Jon Aboitiz, banana magnate Tony Boy Floirendo, Ayala Corporation boss Jaime Zobel de Ayala, and Vicente Bayot.
After the groom kissed the bride and all the photo opportunities were taken, a convoy of vehicles trailed off into the sunset towards the reception area at the Zobels’ 10,000-hectare Hacienda Bigaa. On one of the hacienda’s horse grazing pastures, the family had commissioned the construction of what appeared to be a gigantic, ballroom-sized, triple-roof, nipa-and-sawali pavilion large enough to be used as a hangar. The pavilion as well as the set design for the entire event was done by Gino Gonzales. A mood-lit walkway led up to the dramatic entrance: a bamboo threshold flanked by two towering flower arrangements. Toni Parsons provided the flowers for both the church and the reception. The interior of the reception area was a gorgeously sensual mise en scène of elegant round dining tables named after the many varieties of Philippine trees (or streets in Forbes Park), endless buffet spreads and food stations, bars, bandstands, bamboo bathrooms and lounge areas, and of course, a dance floor that was hardly neglected as the night progressed from formality to fantasy with the help of a well-stocked bar.
According to the talented Bacolod designer Adjie Lizares, the wedding took several months to prepare. “Maricris got Cristina Soriano and her daughter Paola de Herrera from Madrid whose business is weddings there. They came several times to the country. Mike Miñana handled logistics, Irene Araneta procured both bands — yes, there were two! Maric did a lot of work; she was the real mover and shaker of the team. Pepito Albert did the bride and her entourage. Tats Manahan and Mico Manalo from the Escuela Taller in Intramuros did some restoration work on the chapel. The list goes on and on!”
Guests arrived by car and chopper. Many of my aunts, uncles, and cousins were there, including the always-great-to-see Stevie and Lisa Paradies, their daughter, Nina, and their son and daughter-in-law, Ian and Sandra. Keenan and James Ugarte were in from San Francisco and Cebu, along with Dudes Aboitiz and his always beautiful mother and sister, Chari and Sofia Aboitiz. Power player Endika Aboitiz sporting a stylish scruff beard and a dark blue barong tagalog alongside his divine and exuberant Spanish artist wife, Valeria, and their son, Danel. Endika’s younger brother Sabin, his lovely wife Bettina, and their only son Samel were having a ball. I ran into and sparked flashes of conversation with five more Aboitiz cousins — Gina, Carlos, Jokin, Sandro, and Yso. Other relatives I hadn’t seen for some time were Maricris’s sister, Maricel, and her husband, Poch Davila, who are based in Union City, California. Another uncle, Enrique Melian, was also there, but I didn’t get a chance to talk to him; it was impossible to touch base with everyone.
You had the inner circle of close friends: Bongbong and Lisa Marcos; Greggy and Irene Araneta, and their sons, the polo-playing Alfie and the skateboarding Luis, who I ended up talking with at sunrise by the poolside of our ocean-front cabins at the Punta Baluarte resort down the road from the hacienda, with my wife and her friend, the Aussie-mestiza model from New York, Cristina Garcia; Louie Ysmael, dapper as usual in a blue suit and white shoes; man-about-town Chito Melo; Charlie and Leana Carmona; photography enthusiast Bengy Toda; Rene and Sonsoles Baretto, whose daughter Amaya was Bianca’s maid of honor; Konkoy and Doody Tuason, their sons Sev and Daniel, and Konkoy’s oceanographer son Gutsy, who recently had a baby girl named Antarctica with his Esquire editor/writer girlfriend, Audrey Carpio, who attended with him.
A galaxy of guests partied the night away on Chris and Bianca’s Big Night and the following is a list of the ones I either saw or spoke with in no particular order: Iñigo’s only sister, Dedes, Lizzy, Katrina, and Enzo Razon, beauty queen Margie Floirendo and her daughters Monica and Gabbi, Fernando and Kit Zobel, the Foreses, Bing and Kathy De Guzman, Joe and Vicky Zubiri, JV Ejercito, Sam Eduque, Anton Mendoza, Stephanie Zubiri, Mari Borao, Santi and Marilen Elizalde, Charlie Cojuangco, Carol Masibay, Coco and Trinchy Garcia, Itos Carag, Nene Lacson, Jed and Manolet Dario, Pedro and Gina Roxas, Vicky and Camila Soriano, Ed and Menchu Soriano, the Moreno brothers and their wives, Becca Dosch, Bito and Menchu Mantecon, Jesus and Kat Romero-Salas, Robert and Tina Cruz, Paolo and Ria Prieto, Paolo and Anna Tuason, Mauro Agustines, Chukri and Ines Prieto, Enrique Gonzalez, and Marco de Guzman.
OK, that should do it; this is starting to look like a heavily ensembled Robert Altman film. A passable first attempt at wedding reportage at best, so I’ll cut it off right here by wishing the newlyweds, Bianca and Chris, a lifetime of real happiness together. It’s a helluva thing, if you can pull it off.