Mar Roxas-Korina Sanchez: My best cousin's wedding
MANILA, Philippines - The chance to be part of the creative team that put my cousin Mar and Korina’s wedding together has been quite heartwarming and life-changing. It was a meaningful way to bring my work full circle.
Although my love affair with food and entertaining was awakened by a deep romance with all things Italian, what a gift it has been, after 21 years, to be able to mark this milestone and to help create a vintage Filipiniana wedding for such an inspiring couple — Mar, who feels more like an older brother, and whose life’s recent tumultuous changes have inspired me to no end; and his blooming fiancée, the just-as-amazing Korina, who has become a dear friend and fellow closet Martha Stewart.
Looking back at how all the wedding planning started, and seeing things take shape and culminate in the final outcome — and living through it, in spite of and because of the many things that happened in-between — has truly warmed my heart and brought many a tear to my eyes.
Korina has always been very clear about how she wanted her dream wedding to be: a showcase of the Philippines’ best. That’s why it was not difficult to take her cue. Mar, on the other hand, just wanted everything to flow well with the “people’s wedding” theme always in mind. Since the menu for the reception and the execution of the flowers were my main responsibilities, I lost no time sourcing the best, most interesting (some even undiscovered) local artisan produce from all over the country.
As in any wedding, most often, it all starts with the dress. We started with meetings with the designers responsible for the dresses. Korina’s preference for vintage Filipiniana — ranging from the turn-of-the-century period to mid-century 1950s — inspired both Pepito Albert and Patrice Ramos (responsible, respectively, for the bride’s dress and entourage) to come with loads of books on Filipiniana through the years.
A color palette of piña, ecru, ivory, beige, moving to tan, mocha, khaki, cinnamon, raw sienna and brown, then finally ending in the cool shades of dove gray, platinum and anthracite; Filipino stripes and patadyong plaids, as well as delicate embroidery and point d’esprit added texture to both designers’ looks. Randy Ortiz was to follow the inspiration with various artisan embroiderers from Lucban and Aklan working on piña for the men’s barongs.
Gino Gonzalez was Korina’s choice for bringing all the ideas to fruition for the huge scale of Sto. Domingo Church and the Coliseum reception. Marichelle Ligon of Bridesmaids assisted Korina and the rest of us on invites, missalettes and the other wedding requirements. Mike Miñana and his group, on the other hand, were tasked with keeping the pace of the event tight and smooth. Both Mar and Korina’s respective staff helped make sure we were on schedule.
The sudden changes brought by the storm suddenly threw us all off, because it became clearer and clearer that the original plan would no longer do. In the midst of handling relief operations, suddenly the wedding plans needed to be set aside and all of us just held on and rolled with the punches.
As the date drew nearer, the church choice did not change, but the couple’s decision to shelf the reception allowed for the wedding date to remain unchanged. It was a challenge to balance things but now, in hindsight, it is heartwarming to know that one can do an elegant, tasteful, yet relevant wedding in an appropriate and prudent way.
Korina’s and Gino’s design for turn-of-the-century-inspired flowers at the church, with old-style Filipino rosal, sampaguita, homegrown Japanese lilies, camia clusters, paper roses and Baguio roses allowed for the perfect scale when juxtaposed against the imposing scale of the church. The white flowers would then allow the awesome stained-glass windows — which instantly impressed the bride and groom when we visited the church for the first time in March — to shine radiantly. It is indeed a people’s church, and the uncanny timing of an October wedding date would allow for the extra indulgences and graces from the Virgin of La Naval (the Virgin of Safe Voyage) to bless the union of Mar and Korina even more.
The Fiori di M team took their cue from Gino Gonzales, in collaboration with Sergio Igonia, the sampaguita specialist from San Pedro, Laguna and Loreto, master stylist of Tita Toni Parsons, 517 Flower Co., to get the whole church aptly bedecked with white flowers, with the scent of sampaguita, camia and lilies wafting all over the church, ever so subtly, from Monday evening all the way to early Tuesday morning. A first communion ceremony was to take place that morning, adding a few jitters and tensions to the deadlines. But the wonderful crew of Sto. Domingo parish women and their children helped the florists’ team finish in time. The style is a contrast to Fiori di M’s usual organic style, but the challenge of executing a traditional, classic, very vintage look was truly a learning experience for us.
Meanwhile, the kitchen was abuzz, all set up in the huge refectory lent by the wonderfully accommodating Father Prior of San Agustin, and his community members. We felt like we were in an old cathedral in Europe, with huge, old, wooden refectory tables covered by vintage plastic tablecloths left at our disposal for our pan de sal and kakanin menu assembly. Our simple post-wedding salu-salo menu was an array of pandesal tastings with breads from three artisan pan de sal bakers — two from Dagupan Street in Tondo, the Sta. Monica Bakery and Lorena’s Eatery; and Fil-Mariz Bakery on Constancia Street in Old Makati. There were also crunchy mini rolls from John Lu Koa. Fillings were an assortment of my homemade galantina with mustasa, Ilonggo chorizo with mayonesa, adobo with Malagos-Davao Laguna cheese and Tagaytay kamatis, Iloilo suahi and Capiz pitik with Bacolod kalamansi mayonesa, cerveza negra and garlic cheese pimiento. There was also mangosteen jam and peanut butter, the homemade jam a wedding present from an anonymous foodie friend to the couple, with the peanut butter from two artisan producers — Nanay Uray, a discovery from the Ma-ao market in Negros; and the famous ER’s peanut butter from San Carlos, Negros. Special guava jelly in three consistencies was also a gift from my jam-making foodie friend and served with keso krema with Bicol pili. All half-wrapped in shiny glacene, the array was nearly substantial. They were complemented by an array of sweet things highlighted by polvorone baked by Lia Valencia, herself a candle sponsor, and Rosie Reyes. The pastillas were made by a lola from Mar’s Lola Trining Roxas’ hometown of San Miguel Bulacan, a present from Tito Popo de Leon, and another lola in Malolos, sourced by the Tengco family. The old art of cutting lacework — personalized with Mar and Korina’s names, the wedding date, hearts, delicate leaves, flowers and even bahay kubo — shone brightly, done in pastel-hued papel de Japon, in the color range of the wedding motif. The subtle palette brought such an Old World feel; the effort of sourcing the paper months ago paid off.
The sweet kakanin passed around in native bilao and woven trays consisted of Silay senoritas, galletas and bañadas from Negros, pili macaroons from Cely Montelibano and mini bukayo from Lolinia Juarez, my suki from the Ma-ao market. Gifts of puto and saba squares were also served. The simple beverages of kalamansi, dalandan and pomelo coolers, dalandan and pomelo bellinis and spritzers were a welcome change, served in simple non-stemmed glassware, an apt way suggested by the groom, to keep the salu-salo at the courtyard truly simple, as promised.
Soon after the family arrived at the church, the energy was already electrifying. Seeing everything in place, I could not help but choke a bit with emotion and tear up a little. Sitting by the altar with the other readers, Ted Failon and Eliza Antonino, I felt a bit hostaged, no longer able to do anything to touch up any of the preparation, and yet it felt like God’s way of telling me, “Sit back and behold the wondrous sight, Margarita! You have all done enough.” Seeing Mar and his son Paolo embrace, joyous and happy, was a sign of more to come. As I saw the rest of the entourage — the sponsors, then flower girls and junior and senior bridesmaids — march in clutching the simply bunched and gathered beribboned bouquets we had assembled all that morning, my heart melted to the a cappella rendition of Ikaw.
The anticipation for the first glimpse of Korina made time stop… but as I saw the huge doors slowly open, and I heard the first bars of Umagang kay Ganda, and soon saw her soft smile — emotional, head bowed at times, meeting her brothers as she approached — I could see cousin Mar’s face light up. Soon a beautiful black, yellow and white butterfly circled the altar with wild abandon… perhaps all of them — Korina’s parents and brother, and Mar’s grandparents, dad and brother — were all there, joyful in unison.
The rest of the wedding and salu-salo is history. Echoes of the cheering crowd that surrounded Sto. Domingo that starlit evening still ring in my ear. Driving behind as we left the church — the family on a bus, and the newlyweds riding in a vintage convertible as they wove through the crowded streets of Quezon City on the way back to Bahay na Puti — we cheered as we watched the surprised onlookers who came out into the streets. Some were even lucky to get handshakes and cell phone photos at the traffic light on Timog Avenue. My only regret was that I never got to pose in the white wedding padyak.
