Four Weddings and the Legendary Crispy Lechon     

By Joe Larano Jr.

This summer, my calendar was filled with the joyful chime of wedding bells—four in all, each one different yet bound by the same spirit of love and family. For us Filipinos, weddings are never just about two people tying the knot; they are grand gatherings where friends, relatives, ninongs, ninangs, and even long-lost cousins fly in from abroad just to witness the union. It felt like a family reunion multiplied by four, each occasion carrying its own colors, flavors, and laughter.

Three of these weddings were garden ceremonies, with blossoms and greenery as witness, while one was held in a traditional church, solemn under the high arches and glowing stained glass. But whether in the soft embrace of nature or within the echo of church walls, the message was the same: two souls pledging themselves in love. When the ministers reached the part of “I Do’s,” I noticed how the younger couples added a hint of playfulness, sometimes with a teasing grin or a nervous laugh. Even during the ring ceremony, the replies of the wedding parties were light-hearted, often met with chuckles from the guests—so different from the weddings of our generation where silence and solemnity filled the air.

What struck me most was how the ceremonies, while modern in tone, were still deeply Filipino at heart. The families of both bride and groom were ever-present, from parents giving blessings to grandparents whispering their own secrets of a lasting marriage. Hope and encouragement wrapped around every word, reminding the couples that marriage is not just between two people, but between two families interwoven.

And then, of course, came the reception—the true test of patience and excitement. No Filipino wedding is complete without a hearty feast. But before anyone could dive into the buffet, the hosts made us earn our place in line with the fun game, “How well do you know the bride and groom?” There was laughter as tables competed, some proudly recalling favorite anecdotes, others inventing answers just to win the privilege of being first at the food. I must confess, the crispy lechon and Caesar salads at each wedding became instant favorites—legendary in their own right, appetizing, fresh, and almost as talked about as the newlyweds themselves.

The merriment didn’t stop there. Every few minutes,  some mischievous guests would clink their fork against a glass, and like clockwork, the newlyweds would oblige with a kiss, much to everyone’s delight. There were moments of dancing, of jokes from emcees, and of stories shared across tables where old friends reconnected. Each reception was a reminder that weddings are not only about vows, but also about celebrating community, culture, and joy.

Looking back at those four weddings, I realized something: no matter where we hold our ceremonies—be it in lush gardens or in sacred churches—the essence of a Filipino wedding never fades. It is always about love strengthened by family, laughter that binds generations, and the hope that every “I Do” blossoms into a lifetime of happiness. These summer weddings, each unique yet familiar, were a beautiful testament that in our culture, love is not just between bride and groom—it is carried by everyone who gathers to witness, celebrate, and wish them well. (Contact: jblarano@gmail.com)