In 2013, a newly opened place called Balete@Kamias in Quezon City held live gigs featuring the AMP Big Band and other groups. By day, it operated as a restaurant. Owner Tierry Garcia—a Filipino US resident who promoted jazz concerts—came home to the Philippines and went into the food business.

Balete@Kamias became the “home” of AMP, playing as its house band every first Monday of each month these past five years—even as its popularity has spread far and wide.

Revisiting the place last month, during an AMP show, I saw some friends including lawyer Junji Quimbo and wife Vickee, cosmetic surgeon and Tierry’s cousin Tito Garcia, Slapshock bassist Lee Nadela and Inquirer’s Raul Marcelo.

At one corner sat actor Bembol Roco with a group of four.

And out in the garden was Louie Ysmael, saying he went here to ask AMP bandleader-conductor Mel Villena if the group can play at Top of the Alpha in Makati.

Joining me at the table with Tito and music promoter Wing Inductivo, Tierry offers Kalamancello, the drink he has been telling me about for quite sometime, which I somehow haven’t tried—until this night.

Tierry and a friend, Martin Tarnate, thought of creating a cocktail drink—a mix of pure calamansi and coconut nectar or lambanog—by circumstance, following a surplus harvest of calamansi in a farm Martin had been supervising.

Calamansi plus lambanog

Calling it kalamancello—a marketing twist on limoncello, a lemon liqueur made in Italy— Tierry and Martin agreed on filling a 750 ml bottle with 2 kg pure calamansi and 13 percent alcohol from the lambanog.

The result was the brand Kalamancello. Served straight from the bottle with crushed ice in a short cocktail glass, it refreshed the palate, bursting with calamansi’s tangy flavor, with only a subtle lambanog kick.

After two glasses, I felt fine, sober enough to nod to Tito’s suggestion to order more drinks, but beer this time.

I ended up taking home a bottle of Kalamancello, plus one bottle of Ilustrado, pure lambanog, which Tierry has sub-labeled coco brandy. He’s technically accurate because brandy is distilled wine or fruit—in Ilustrado’s case, coconut nectar.

He said a number of bars and restaurants have started to carry the Kalamancello and Ilustrado brands. He repeated what he’s been saying all these years: “Kalamancello can be our national drink… It can be served as a welcome drink to foreigners.”

At home, late nights while watching Netflix or listening to Spotify, I set aside my usual gin tonic or scotch and instead imbibe Kalamancello, chilled straight from the ref.

Sticking to the two-glasses maximum, it didn’t make me tipsy at all, at most there was just a slight buzz that led a few hours later to a mood conducive to sleep.

Ilustrado was also enjoyable. Likewise chilled from the ref and drank neat, it tasted sweet, a wee bit like buko juice but with a mild alcohol kick.

As a journalist whose nightlife beat includes drinking, I’ve never liked cocktails— until Kalamancello came along.

The AMP Big Band plays once a month at Balete@Kamias, 175 Kamias St., QC; for inquiries on Kalamancello and Ilustrado, tel. 0917-7565708