Thank you, Margarita
I knew this was going to be a very hard piece to write. But it helped that I have years’ worth of wonderful memories to remember her by.
It was August of 2014 when I first met Margarita Forés. Along with Len Cabili and Kat Limcaoco, we were invited by then Agriculture Undersecretary Berna Romulo-Puyat to hike up a mountain, experience planting rice in thick and knee-deep mud, and spend time with the women in the community while enjoying a delicacy called inanchila. Margarita barely knew me, but I knew of her so well.
Back then, I was already a fan. And by the end of the trip, even more so, that’s why I knew I had to take my chance. I mustered the courage to ask if there was a possibility for me to work for her. Despite my misgivings, she took me under her wing.
It didn’t take long for me to realize that life was crazy in Margarita’s world (she preferred to be called by her real name and not by her nickname, Gaita). Given the many restaurants she was running, along with her always-busy catering business and on top of her many other roles, it was so hard to keep up. Yet no matter how tiring and frenetic things were, she managed to show up and get the job done (and in style, at that!) because rest just wasn’t in her vocabulary.
Promoting Filipino cuisine
Things shifted to an even faster gear when, while we were locked up in a meeting room in a Makati hotel, we received news that she had been hailed as Asia’s Best Female Chef in 2016. We looked at each other and we both started crying—she out of joy, me out of stress, knowing how much busier she was going to be.
True enough, the international recognition got us into overdrive as invitations from far corners of the world started pouring in—from culinary presentations in Madrid Fusion in Spain, Identità Golose in Italy, and Food on the Edge in Ireland, to limited engagement collaborations, pop-ups, and dinners in New York, Japan, and even Bhutan, to name a few.
The ever congenial workhorse took every chance she could get to promote and speak about Filipino cuisine. Oftentimes, she would juggle her already-packed schedule to accommodate requests, even if it meant flying at the last minute to attend an event.
“Slow down, take a break, and rest,” I often reminded her. But her inexhaustible drive just wouldn’t let her.
Margarita took the utmost pride and pleasure in what she did. As I look back and reminisce on the times we worked together, I realize that she might have gotten me fooled thinking that it was purely work that she invested much of her time in. Given her nature, I should have known that it went beyond paid service—that she was genuinely spreading influence, providing jobs and hope to many, inspiring and leading by example, strengthening bonds, and most of all, leaving an indelible impact on people, regardless of stature. These are validated by the thousands of social media posts and messages made in her remembrance.
Though work took the lead, her maternal instinct was always on full display, which made her a lot easier to love—and a lot harder for me to get frustrated at. Margarita put others above herself. She was very generous, exhausting every effort to help fellow chefs in the industry with their needs, be it hard-to-get ingredients, special equipment, valuable contacts, and even her own kitchen and people.
She enjoyed playing host whenever a friend from the culinary industry was in town. She would wake up early and tour them at Farmer’s Market, feed them more than what their appetite could take, and prepare tons of treats for them to take home.
Extended family
She extended the same degree of care and concern not only to me, but also to my whole family. I remember how she would buy ref magnets in every country she visited—and purchased extra because she knew my mom collected the same. She dropped by my sister’s wedding to wish her and her now-husband well and made sure the food tasted great. And she sent the most beautiful flowers and the most touching words for my dad’s wake. It was like we were extended family.
Margarita surely did a lot. She hiked 3,120 meters up the Tiger’s Nest monastery in Bhutan and learned how to scuba-dive during the pandemic. She danced with a tribe in Kalinga and gamely ate the raw heart of a pig as part of a ritual. She hated drinking cocktails, but had more than her fair share of wine. She traveled a lot, sometimes flying by her lonesome.
We had a lot of laughs—from getting drunk and stuffing our mouths while half asleep to accidentally switching on the fire alarm in Harvard (mostly my fault)—as well as a number of petty fights, like the time she had something changed in her presentation dishes just minutes before she stepped on the international stage (which totally rattled me!).
She was quite a handful (she owned up to this) but as I write this (my nth draft), I realize that what I considered too hectic and busy was merely her living her life to the fullest. And what a crazy fun and wild ride it was.
Thank you, Margarita, for letting me sit beside you momentarily. I’m a lot better as a person for having known you and spent wonderful time with you. After everything that you had done (a whole lot, and with a reach and effect that’s far and wide!), you can now do what I’ve long been telling you to do. Rest well!
Angelo Comsti is a chef and restaurateur. He writes the Tall Order column for Inquirer Lifestyle.
