The Filipino Table

The traditional Filipino diet, consisting mainly of rice, fish and vegetables usually boiled or grilled, is simple and healthy. People ate what the land gave them, and when. Whether aware or not of the nutritional and medicinal values of their food, Filipinos ate healthy, so the occasional lechon during fiesta time or noche buena didn’t do serious damage.

Simple and healthy is far from tasteless and bland though, thanks to the array of sawsawan or dipping sauces that accompany every meal. In fact, says food enthusiast and researcher Pia Lim-Castillo, the Filipino eater acts as the "final chef," for it is he who makes the final mixture of sawsawans and thus decides on the final taste of the food on his plate.

The Museum Foundation of the Philippines, an organization "dedicated to developing greater awareness and appreciation in the Filipino people of our country’s rich artistic and cultural heritage," held a lecture-lunch the other Saturday at Le SoufflÈ, with Pia giving the lecture and Jessie Sincioco doing the lunch. It was a most eye-and palate-opening—not to mention a most satisfying and delicious—experience.

While dissecting the table centerpiece of sitao, batao, kamote tops, kamachile and himbabaw laid out on a banana leaf, we sipped juices of kamias and kamote tops, the former a bit tart, the latter not only a lovely rose-pink color but very refreshing (the plain colored juice takes on the lovely rose hue as soon as a souring element like calamansi is introduced, says Pia).

Pia, who regularly attends and presents papers at the Oxford Symposium on Food and Cookery, gave a quick overview of what Filipinos used to eat, before cup noodles and "picha pie" and burgers in its many guises came to dominate our diet. That information became reality when banana leaves were set before us, and manggang hilaw with ginisang bagoong and the most divine alugbati salad with bagoong vinaigrette made their appearance. Without exception, everybody had seconds (some of us had thirds); fortunately there was plenty more back in the kitchen.

The sinigang na hipon was just mildly sour, with kamachile as the souring agent. The himbabaw we were dissecting earlier figured in the soup. Pia explained that tradition dictated certain vegetables go into certain sinigangs; for example, gabi, sitao, okra and kangkong may go into a sinigang na baka, but not talong.

Four dishes of sawsawan were set before us: a dark sweet suka (Arengga Honey Vinegar), a light suka with crushed garlic, salt and pepper, patis with kalamansi, and siling labuyo with oil. A long discussion on suka ensued, which gave me a new respect for the tradition and variations, based on geography and agricultural produce, of suka. It was disappointing to learn that the maker of that delicious Arengga vinegar has moved on to producing and exporting CafÈ Alamid, or the very pricey and trendy civet coffee.

After a change of "plate," steaming rice was heaped on our new leaf, to go with the entrees of bistek, inihaw na tiyan ng bangus and chicken adobo, accompanied by achara and a platter of nilagang sitao, okra, kangkong and inihaw na talong. We were left to do with the vegetables as we pleased, to add sawsawan, or not; to eat solo or with the ulam. I must wax poetic about the ulam, for the bistek was as tender as fish, the sauce perfect to drown your rice; the bangus was tastefully stuffed with "what you usually stuff into the tiyan," said chef Jessie, which is tomatoes and onions, plus this time a littler ginger too; the chicken was grilled before being adobo’d, with slivers of kesong puti on top. If you’re salivating, be assured that the food was as delicious as you imagine—and just as good-looking, for the presentation was a winner too. This is world-standard gourmet fare, in looks, taste and nutritional value.

I don’t know about those at the other tables, but the four of us—I will not mention names so my friends will not get the reputation of being matakaw—devoured the food meant for six, and then some. Nothing stimulates your appetite more than sharing the table with like-minded and similarly hungry souls, who not once mentioned the four-letter word "diet", who did not mind digging in with all ten fingers, who did not need cajoling when offered seconds, and who could spend three and a half hours talking about and thoroughly enjoying good food.

The meal ended on an even higher note when dessert came around. Suman with candied wintermelon—I never imagined kundol could have such character and taste so good—plus leche flan with real dayap, kutsinta that had perfect consistency and the smoothest flavor, amazing nine-layered sapin-sapin made according to the recipe of Jessie’s mother, and luscious ripe mangoes (I normally love mangoes but this time I must say it paled in comparison with the other desserts on offer) made us hungry all over again. Fortunately, the avocado leaf tea Pia recommended to aid digestion did a good job, as we likewise did a good job with the dessert selection.

There has been so much lament about Filipino cuisine not making it to the world’s table the way Thai cuisine or even Vietnamese cuisine has. Some say it’s because Filipino food doesn’t look nice; since it is heavily sauce-y, most dishes look like a mush of unidentifiable ingredients slopped onto a plate. Others say it’s because there’s no standardization, so foreigners can’t put their finger on, for example, what adobo really is since there are so many variations and permutations of adobo.

Those are considerations for food researchers and scholars like Pia to think about and chew on. Where I believe there will be no argument is that at its heart, and when done right, Filipino food is finger-lickin’/lip-smackin’/sweat-inducing good. In the hands— not to mention kawalis and kaserolas —of wonderful chefs like Jessie Sincioco and a growing number of chefs like her, Filipino food can really take off, soaring on variations and adaptations and interpretations while still retaining the integrity and basic character of food that our parents, grandparents and countless generations of kitchen savvy Filipinos have been cooking up and savoring for years.