Where is my Adobo? by Cholo Ayuyao

As I was walking home from my errands this morning, I chanced upon this vivid red tarp hanging from a three story building that used to be a developing center for old school camera shots. The signage was dominated by three bold letters “KFC” signifying the rise of another branch to be opened in our city. I walked further and saw adjacent the building was another fast food giant and another one on the left. Progress , I thought. Onward I went and passed by the manang who sells me the best okoys (papaya and shrimp patties deep fried to a golden brown and eaten with a vinegar based sauce) and after her quaint cart was the line of barbecue vendors selling meats on sticks from pork to chicken and every innards in between smothered and basted with the classic pinoy barbecue sauce. Then it dawned to me, after the stark comparison among the two opposing and oddly connected factors that I just saw, that the arrival of fastfood is the sign of the end of a culinary culture.

I know, it is a very heavy statement but it does make sense. Progress is something that we all hoped for, but together with it a progressive community would change its time table and even the basic norms to accommodate such change. Having progress entails having a faster pace, development, till the community becomes a money making machine, hence not having time to spend cooking at home. Progress’s solution to the problem is Fast Food. Then you thought eating out is cool because of your extra cash in hand, till it becomes a norm and eating in becomes a chore, for you would have to cook like your mama used to. That’s the pitfall. It seems no one is aware that slowly, creeping in, is the death of home cooked meals that left the progressive society fatter with its saturated fat goodies and loaded with preservatives, least to say, forget that there IS actually a culinary culture to carry on.

I remember when I was still a boy and I pass by the kitchen, looking at my lolo, who’s a great cook, chopping off some garlic and throws them off to the hot pan, the sizzle and smell of sautéing garlic would fill the air, my lola by his side mashing the boiled mungo beans with a wooden ladle, laboriously making the whole batch to one consistency. How I wish I could return to that time now so that I could learn every trick and recipe he does after learning through years of rummaging books and talking to friends about Filipino food (specifically Capampangan) how rich our heritage is. I could only imagine if my lola’s preparation of that Balatong (Mung Bean soup) was the same as our forerunners at the banks of the Pampanga River as the Spanish galleon traders pass by bringing in new ingredients from the “new” world. That’s my sad story for it was just in my latter years that I’ve discovered this new passion for cooking. Yes I could learn from the television, manuals, books the recipes of our country but I surmised that nothing beats the feeling of being taught by a manang or your lolo or your mom their recipes that was also passed on to them and be actually the new bearer and the bridge to further on that tradition and knowledge with you in the future. While Filipino cuisine isn’t as popular worldwide as our southeast asian counterparts, it does deserve due respect in its purest form.

Another thing that troubled me was how complacent the Filipino has become with its culinary culture, magazine after magazine, shows, advertisements, featuring Filipino chefs proudly waving their victorious attempt to cook a French peasant dish or even the fanciest named one they could find. At the end of the day, when all these fancy chefs go home to their minimalist white walled kitchens, clad in the best line of German made appliances and Italian named plates, I’m sure they would still have to learn how to make the killer atchara or how to properly prepare taro stalks for laing without making the throat itch while eating it. I wish though, with their media millage and influence that they have, be aware of their capacity to educate their fellow Filipinos with our culinary traditions more. Bottom line, we would have to want and need that kind of knowledge and actually be proud of it down to the cooks, food enthusiast and to the common person. While not everyone knows how to cook… everyone eats, and in this way, creating a demand for quality authentic Filipino food.


Two words would eventually sum up this article of Filipino rustic gastronomy: Progress and Demand. We can actually salvage those once very rich traditions of Filipino food in the face of progress if we would only demand for it. Demand it in a variety of form: Consume it regularly, trying you best to learn it, or even demanding quality to existing menus and actually urge authenticity with the dishes you’ve come to love elsewhere and at home. Saving these heritage is like saving the soul of a race; Soul Food. A nation’s culinary culture, thus this “soul” should be consumed daily. Being nourished by your heritage comes hand in hand with the continuum of a cycle. You cultivate and respect your food and it would do the same to you. And this wouldn’t come in a bucket meal with three extra fix- in’s and a two litter bottle of soda.