Memories are edible at La Moderna

Among my fondest memories are the summer visits I used to make to my maternal grandparents’ hometown of Bongabon, Oriental Mindoro when I was a child. My Tatay (grandfather Igmedio Reyes) and Nanay (grandmother Jovita Arellano) owned the biggest bakery in Bongabon, a riverside town flanked by beaches on one end and rolling hills on the other.

About 100 yards from the ancestral home was my grandparents’ panaderia, which I remember for its big horno. I would sometimes tag along with my Nanay to the panaderia, where fine particles of flour would usually be swirling like stardust in the air. The panaderos’ faces usually were coated with this fine powder as they kneaded the dough. But a visit to the panaderia wasn’t the treat, it was minding the stores where they sold those treats — pan de coco, lambingan (my favorite, which got its name because its toppings seemed to be all over each other, hence ‘lambingan’), pan de agua, monay (whose name shocked me as at the time my family lived in Iloilo) and surtidos. My Nanay probably gladly suffered a cut in profits just to feed her chubby eldest apo her favorite lambingan, which I would wolf down with Pepsi cooled by half a glass of crushed ice.

I remember that every night, the stay-in tinderas would gather in the living room, where giant tin cans (drums, actually) brimming with freshly baked surtidos (assorted biscuits) would be brought in. The tinderas would gather around the drum while watching television and scoop a handful of surtidos and put them in brown paper bags. It amazed me that they would just scoop the surtidos with one hand, and without taking their eyes off the TV screen, put the exact number of surtidos required inside the supot.

Eventually, I would join them in assembly line, as I was tired of being a miron and wanted to be part of the action. Amazingly in time, I didn’t have to count the number of surtidos in my grasp, either. I would know exactly, just by the feel of it, how many surtidos I had in my hand, because I would check and it really was the number I thought I had (usually five or seven pieces with one scoop of the hand). Looking back, I think it was a combination of instinct, practice, and geometry that made the tinderas, and eventually, myself, know for sure the number of surtidos in our hands without counting them

And yes, I’m pretty sure I always washed my hands before scooping up all those surtidos.

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For those who grew up or spent their summers in the provinces, the goodies in a traditional Filipino bakery is like comfort food.

They remind us of an uncomplicated life and of treats that are unsophisticated but no less delightful. Of a time in our lives when most everything was made from scratch, and nothing came pre-packed except the flour and the sugar. They bring back a lot of sweet memories. I miss my Tatay and Nanay and I miss the treats of their panaderia.

The memories of my grandparents’ panaderia in Bongabon came flooding back like a drum of lambingans over my head when I bumped into Angelo Songco, in, of all places, the Amsterdam airport. His father lawyer Jose Songco and the late STAR publisher Max Soliven were friends and business partners, even. Angelo invited me to their bakery La Moderna in Guagua, Pampanga but I couldn’t make it. He happily told me that by November, they would be opening a branch of La Moderna in Greenhills called Butchie’s Recipes, named after his aunt.

Angelo had the same summer memories of visiting his family’s bakery in Guagua, Pampanga as a child; helping the bakers and cashier during summer holidays in his teens. “I distinctly remember enjoying every minute spent in La Moderna,” he recalls. “All my senses were delighted with the sight of bakery employees working non-stop in morning and evening shifts; the aroma of the freshly-baked bread as it came out of the oven; the sound of the mixers and slicers and the chatting of young Capampangan women wrapping big basketfuls of baked products; the texture of rising dough and flaky crusts filled with smooth egg custard; and of course, the taste of each and every product in its various stages of production.”

Here’s a sample of what comes out of La Moderna’s ovens: Masa Podrida — Filipino version of shortbread biscuits; Sampaguita — melt-in-your-mouth creamy flower shaped cookies named after the national flower of the Philippines; Empanaditas — our famous and acclaimed yema-cashew filled pastry; Mamon Tostado — toasted sweet butter cake slices; San Nicolas — cookies introduced by the Augustinian friars during the Spanish period — made from fresh coconut milk and imprinted with the image of St. Nicolas de Tolentino — the patron saint of children; Turrones de Casoy — crunchy nougats introduced by the Dominicans during the Spanish period made from cashew, honey and egg whites wrapped in paper-like edible oblea; Gorgoryas — traditional recipe of bite-sized dayap-glazed (Philippine lime) fried bread fritters, among others.

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La Moderna has been with Angelo’s family for five generations having been founded in the early 1900s by his great grandparents, Ignacio and Maria Lansang Narciso in the quiet agricultural town of Sta. Rita, Pampanga. Its first milestone was winning a Gold Medal in the pre-war Philippine Exposition in the late 1800s. 

Since then, La Moderna was transferred to Guagua in 1947 by one of their children, Pablo Narciso and his wife Narcisa Carlos Narciso — the original entrepreneurial couple who settled in this prospering commercial town from Sta. Rita.

Starting as a candy store, Apong Ambo and Ma Sisang nurtured the business and transformed it into a respected institution throughout Pampanga.

Angelo’s mother, Linda Narciso Songco, the eldest child of Apong Ambo, and her siblings recall that during those days, there were over 150 employees making the products in shifts 24 hours a day to keep up with the demand.

As the flagship business flourished, Apong Ambo and Ma Sisang were blessed with 10 beautiful children. The second and third children, Toto Narciso and Butchie Narciso Lagman, took the reins of the bakery in the early ’80s when their parents decided to slow down. Though they were still very much involved in the bakery operations, eventually, Apong and Ma settled in Manila in the ’90s when Mount Pinatubo erupted. 

Now on its 61st year in Guagua, La Moderna still uses the same recipes, improved on with process technology to increase shelf life, and presented in more contemporary packaging in order to make them ideal for giveaways. 

According to Angelo, what differentiates La Moderna from other bakeries in Manila and even in Pampanga is that although it has an extensive line of typical bread and pastry products (pan de sal, buns, etc.), its specialties are not commonly available elsewhere.

Apong Ambo passed away in June 2008 and Angelo and his cousins decided to bring La Moderna to Manila.

“The first successful step was to make the bakery’s signature products available in Manila — initially at various bazaars, and now regularly at the Salcedo Village Saturday Market,” says Angelo. But the family still dreamed of having a branch of La Moderna in Manila.

Thus was born Butchie’s Recipes of La Moderna, Pampanga, a restaurant cum bakery, which will offer bestsellers of the bakery as well as heirloom recipes of the Narcisos’ extended families and friends complemented by carefully handpicked food and non-food items from Pampanga.

The restaurant, which will open in mid-November at the Health Cube Building on Wilson street in Greenhills, is named after Corazon “Butchie” Narciso Lagman, the manager of La Moderna since the early 1980s.

I’m sure Butchie’s Recipes will bring back a lot of sweet memories even as you enter its door, whether you’re Capampangan or not.

(For inquiries, call 0917-8039 055 or 724-8959.)

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You may e-mail me at [email protected]