Ginamos sold by the taro in a wet market. In my childhood, the ginamos was stored in huge recycled Baguio Cooking Oil cans
None of this mattered to this (erstwhile) diehard ginamos fan. Until 'Nang Carmen pointed out the rust that line the cans, inside and out, and told me, "Tan-awa nang mga lata, gipang-taya tungod sa ginamos! Gusto nimo tayaon imong tinai? Na hala, kaon pa ug daghang ginamos!" (Look at how badly-rusted the cans are! That's because of the ginamos! You want your insides to rust away? Go ahead and eat more ginamos!) Well, that was my first does of aversion therapy, and 'Nang Carmen was not a good yaya for nothing. From then on, I have been avoiding ginamos and nothing can make me touch it now. Unless there's ginamos, biyasong (Bisaya lime), siling kaguko and nilung-ag nga saging hilaw (boiled unripe banana). Otherwise, when I look at ginamos now, it doesn't look so appetizing anymore, on a plate, much less when it is in a plastic pail (the Baguio Oil cans have since been phased out in favor of plastic).