Mga Kuwentong Pagkain 2022 Winners: Edelwisa Roman Gonzaga, Essay Category

Taking home the award for Overall Best Essay of Mga Kuwentong Pagkain 2022 is none other than Edelwisa Roman Gonzaga!

The 49-year-old Filipina regales us with her work titled ‘Chasing Ginilo. In the colorful account, she reminisces her fondest childhood memories in Bataan where she would make the sweet beverage with her family. Despite moving to Washington, Edelwisa still enjoys the samalamig drink by making it with her own children. Even though she is limited by the ingredients available to her, every indulgent bite still takes her back to the good old days. ‘Liquid nostalgia,’ she calls it! 

Check out her full written work here:

Chasing Ginilo

My childhood food memories are disorganized like a clump of unwieldy pancit palabok strands. They’re a delicious, sometimes hideous, mixed bag of gustatory experiences, but some do stand out. Growing up in Orani, Bataan, I would regularly buy buwaya (some locals called it buhaya)- large, ensaymada-like bread that resembled the back of a crocodile, thus the name. Copious amounts of mantekilya and sugar toppings glistened in the scorching afternoon sun as I walked, ran, and skipped all the way to my grandparents’ old but imposing ancestral home. The bread left a sensational aroma that older women smoking alhambra and bataan matamis, or those washing their dirty laundry using palopalo and royal blue Superwheel couldn’t help but turn.

“Kung may pambara, dapat may pantulak.” Food must always be washed down by a drink- this old adage admonished. In our family, ginilo was the summer cooler of choice, oftentimes buwaya’s perfect companion for minindal. Originally from the neighboring province of Pampanga, ginilo was fully embraced by the people of Bataan gracing the tables of many homes and samalamig stalls. My Nanay Edna would grate mature coconut (niyog) using our trusty, if not a little rusty, kudkuran. Afterwards, the niyog would be gently pressed until the last iota of flavor was extracted.

Our homemade ginilo was rich and creamy as only white sugar and ice were added to fresh coconut milk. Boiled sweet potatoes, peeled and cubed, gave body to the drink. Gulaman would be added next- pristine white for those feeling virtuous (“ayoko ng may food color”), the more traditional red, or green, my family’s choice as we typically prepared gulaman with pandan-infused water. Pinipig rounded up the ingredients giving the sweetened coconut milk drink a tinge of nuttiness. The distinct “amoy pinipig” scent that filled the house and the popping sound the grains created as they’re being carefully toasted never failed to heighten our anticipation for the finished product.

Nutritious, filling, and affordable, ginilo was typically a weekend treat at our home. When ginilo craving struck and couldn’t wait to be satiated till the weekend, street vendors outside my elementary school filled the gap. Vendors ladled the drink in thick, reusable glasses (basyo) of local coffee and peanut butter. I would make a big gulp of the diluted version of my mother’s more indulgent ginilo. Then, I would pound at the bottom of the glass to release the gulaman, kamote, and pinipig nestled underneath. Or take all the solids, in one big, mouthful if the vendor kindheartedly provided a spoon.

Another source of my weekday ginilo was my maternal grandparents’ house. I would be asked to bring an extra glass to my grandmother Paz’s eldest sister, Lola Kaka who lived next door. The clanging ice in the glass as I made my way to Lola Kaka’s frequently empty house broke the monotony and humidity of those afternoons.

Lola Kaka was a local beauty during her heyday and was legendary for her fastidious skin care regimen. At first, I was horrified to see her fridge with jars of chilled Pond’s Cold Cream but after a while, I got used to the idea of the glass of ice-cold ginilo sharing precious shelf space with another creamy staple, albeit the non-edible kind. But times changed. I didn’t stay a carefree kid and went to Manila for college and eventually, work. Alas, no ginilo in the big city. The closest thing I could get was ginilo’s more sophisticated cousin, Via Mare’s guinomis, served as part of a shooters trio together with other iconic Pinoy treats like halo-halo and mais con hielo.

But times changed even in my hometown. My beloved ginilo is not as common as it was when I was growing up in the 70s and 80s. Its once hallowed position in the pantheon of local samalamig staples had been largely replaced by powdered milk tea and coffee concoctions. Samalamig stalls seemed to have steered clear of the once popular ginilo save for the Lenten season when the penitensya praying for full absolution of their sins and the crowd milling the streets would stop for a drink, this time not in empty coffee and peanut butter glasses of old but in plastic, single-use ones that made a screeching sound when crushed.

“Ang tagal ko ng hindi nakakatikim nito! ” my balikbayan guests would exclaim as they customized their ginilo. Nothing was more gratifying than to witness the visitors’ wistful smiles as they went for seconds, not just to quench their thirst but more importantly, to relive the good old days. Ginilo is always best enjoyed as a communal dining activity with family and friends. People can pile the ingredients high or low as they help themselves to the choices neatly laid out on the table. Indeed, as long as the yearning to connect with people through food persists, the tradition of preparing ginilo will never be totally forgotten.

In America where I now live, my Gen Z kids are still exposed to ginilo, albeit, the diasporic version using canned coconut milk and powdered gulaman. This old-fashioned beverage surprisingly meets the demands of a modern and more health conscious society. Gluten-free and plant-based, it may be considered a godsend to many.

Ginilo is liquid nostalgia. It is a balm, an antidote, to my homesickness, an edible express train that takes me back to a more genteel period. Each silent sip or noisy chug brings me to a bygone era when buwaya meant not just a ferocious animal nor a dishonorable person but a sweet indulgence to be joined in flavorful bliss by my luscious ginilo. In my reverie, the older women smoking alhambra or bataan matamis and those maidens washing their dirty clothes using palo-palo and royal blue Superwheel are giving me their two thumbs up as I continue to chase ginilo even away from the motherland.

Mga Kuwentong Pagkain 2022 Winners: Ian Ocampo Flora, Essay Category

This year’s Sorpresang Sangkap winner with the most unique entry (Essay Category) is Ian Ocampo Flora! 

In an evocative essay titled ‘A Soulmate of Flavors,’ this millennial talks about his granduncle who believes that some ingredients are fated to be together. This belief mirrors the Kapampangan relationship with food wherein they value the integrity of dishes and their core ingredients–ingredients that create their essence. 

One example is the granduncle’s favorite holiday dish, the Tausing Ema, which is made of mud crabs and blackbean sauce or tausi, a combination of ingredients that generate a totally magical world of flavors. Soul mates if you will!

Read his work below: 

A Soulmate of Flavors 

My granduncle, a consummate Kapampangan cook, and food critic of our family believed that there are cardinal flavors and ingredients ordained by God and nature to be forever fated with one another. Much like the processes involved in cooking traditional Kapampangan dishes, these ingredients are the core essentials of the dish's identity. 

Born out of many years of gastronomic evolution and practical sense, these ingredients have been paired to bring the best flavors possible to a particular dish.  These ingredients may never be removed though occasional alteration may be permitted in the form of additional complimentary ingredients that enhance the main ingredient’s flavor.  

This concept is very alive among Kapampangans who go up in arms and foaming in the mouth over social media when they see some uninitiated chef or cook put raw egg or mayonnaise into a sizzling plate of sisig, not really because it deviates from the traditional way of cooking sisig but because they find no reasonable gastronomic sense in adding ingredients that add an alien flavor to what a dish is supposed to taste like.  Understanding the flavor is one thing, enhancing a dish’s flavor palate is another entirely different discipline. Adding non-complimentary ingredients only proves that one has yet to taste real sisig in all its tangy-porky-greasy goodness. 

A case in point is my granduncle’s favorite holiday dish Tausing Ema (mud crabs cooked in black bean sauce).  The dish is simple, with mud crabs serving as the base ingredient; tausi (tochi) as a complementary ingredient, and vinegar as a binder. 

My granduncle learned the dish when he worked at the Consignacion of the fish market in Guagua in the 50’s where it was a peasant dish among pond and river fishermen.  Back then mud carb propagation was in its infancy as an industry.  Mud crabs then were easy to come by and were a delicacy for the poor, unlike today where a kilo would fetch as high as P1,500 during Christmas enough to cause a heart attack.  On the other hand, the use of tausi harkens to the ancient Chinese residents of the town (probably the ones who survived the great Chinese Massacre of 1762) that have long integrated with the local Kapampangan population of Guagua which inherited some of their culinary influences, the use of tausi among others.  

Tausi or tochi, which originates from China, is a fermented and salted black soybean sauce made from black soybeans. My granduncle would argue that you can cook meat or fish with tausi and it would just taste like, well, tausi. You will get no overwhelming flavor. No alchemic miracle.  But marry tausi and mud crabs together with vinegar as a binding ingredient and the result is a new universe of flavor.  The secret is the manner of cooking. My granduncle would insist on the crabs should be the fattest from the season’s harvest.  

We would usually troop to the Guagua Public Market at 2:00 in the morning of December 24 each year to catch the first batch of mud crabs being carted to the stalls of sellers from the nearby Consignacion. He would insist on buying the male crabs, but not just any male crabs, the mud crabs would have to be bakla which are more expensive. 

His choice for such crabs is not out of superstition, but from his long years as a pond worker. Mud crabs that are bakla are actually juvenile crabs that have yet to reach full maturity. These crabs are just of the right size, not too big not too small, and are easy to clean. 

My granduncle would personally choose the plastic batsa for each crab for slaughter.  Each crab would need to have a round apron on its belly distinguishing it from the more phallic aprons of its male counterparts.  He would weigh them against each other by the hand and choose the heavier of the two with a murmur of prayer to whomever saint comes to mind that the batch chosen would be blessed with the most aligue (crab fat). It is this fat that interacts with tausi and vinegar in producing the distinctive flavor of the dish. 

My granduncle would clean each crab with a new unused toothbrush removing gunk and whatever dirt from each crab’s body. Scrupulously cleaning the carbs ensures the dish would last longer.  Blanching the crabs with hot water instantly kills the crabs and allows one to safely cut them in two, any fat that drips out would be saved for cooking.   Tausi and vinger would be mixed together in a hot pot.  My granduncle would insist on the tausi brand that is sold in small plastic yellow cups. This brand is less salty than the canned ones.  The ratio of the two ingredients would be 2 cups of tausi to ½ cup of vinegar for a whole kilo of crabs.  Simmered in a hot pot, the crabs would be cooked for five to ten minutes mixing them evenly with the vinegar and tausi sauce allowing the aligue to seep into the mixture.  One would then add four cups of water to the dish and allow it to simmer for another three minutes. By this time, the magic has already worked its way. The aligue had already morphed with the tausi and the vinegar. The flavor is just the right saltiness with a tinge of light sour and sweet rich taste from the vinegar and aligue. The sauce from the dish would be enough to flavor a hot plate of rice.  

My granduncle would always remark that simple ingredients when tweaked in the right ratio and combination could spell a lot of flavorful differences. Cooking, he said is like a happy marriage, the flavors get along with one another, complementing and not overpowering to produce one ideal taste. Tasting this dish with your bare hands and slurping and sucking the flavor from the carbs would really convince you that there are indeed ingredients made for each other. 

Mga Kuwentong Pagkain 2022 Winners: Jacqueline Dechavez-Brady, Essay Category

Jacqueline Dechavez-Brady took home the Lakbay Lasa Award (Essay Category) for Mga Kuwentong Pagkain 2022! 

Currently residing in Michigan, USA, this Filipino-American recounts her journey towards understanding her late uncle’s love language: serving Filipino food. From explaining the dishes on their family buffet table to preparing meals for her on ordinary days of the week, it took years for Jacqueline to fully get to the heart of her tito’s ways. Now at 34 years old, she understands the love and care that goes into every food tray and snack he prepared. She carries on his acts of service by learning to cook by herself and sharing these meals with her loved ones. Jacqueline dedicates this essay to her uncle. 

Read her work below:

Nourishment and Love: A Filipino-American’s Understanding

[Age 7. Childhood]

Outside the air is frigid and unwelcoming, yet I am warm inside my tito’s vibrantly painted kitchen. The unmistakable crunching of snow beneath my boots is instantly forgotten by the time a crispy, freshly fried lumpia pile emerges on my plate.

I am young, too young to appreciate the contents of the table engorged with multiple dishes. But I am encouraged by a kitchen full of oversized knit sweaters and neatly coiffed hairstyles to fill my plate. I shuffle from one dish to another and receive reassuring smiles along with each explanation. I can always envision the menudo, pancit, diniguan, kalderato, bistek and fragrant steamed rice; each dish a model representation with seemingly bottomless portions. My tito interjects between each description and explains which one I will like. I don’t quite understand how he knows but I trust him anyway.

There is someone lightly playing piano in the living room, while a group downstairs bellows into a microphone and breaks into laughter; the shuffle of mahjong tiles in the basement is a steady heartbeat until the late hours of the night. The front door opens intermittently as bodies enter and leave carrying overstuffed packages of food; a sharp gust of cold air attempts to permeate our space but cannot temper our spirits inside.

[Age 19. Custom]

I race to my tito’s house and quickly slam my car into park, the deep bass of my stereo sharply cuts off as I emerge from the car. I am rewarded with familiar smells only a few steps from the front door; multiple figures welcome and urge me to join the feast. I quickly fill my plate and fulfill obligatory

greetings before I politely decline seconds and begin my exit towards the next party. Nevertheless, a paper plate is hurriedly assembled; oil prints from a warm empanada soak into the white napkin covering it. My tito walks me out and hands me a bag of fresh mangoes then covertly slips me cash to fill my gas tank. I am in too much of a rush to understand. I promise to visit again soon.

[Age 24. Life]

Longanisa. “This is your favorite”, my tito says.

He visits me at work with a bulky tray of warm lumpia and tells me to share with friends. Amongst many treats I enjoy, I am too busy to understand why he does this but I happily accept.

[Age 27. Treatment]

Voicemail: Your tito made lunch, he is dropping it off after his radiation treatment. Love, mom.

Thoughtful, though I find it hard to understand where he gets the strength.

[Age 30. Merienda & Celebration]

I am perched across from familiar faces I am only now seeing in person for the first time. My tito slowly emerges to the head of the table after an arduous 24-hour voyage to the Philippines. Once again, I am encouraged to fill my plate. I raise skewered meat to my lips; the taste of garlic and vinegar is brilliant but the texture is unfamiliar to my senses. I chew anyway.

My uncle is passing out strawberry and chocolate iced donuts; they are not available in the province. He held it on his lap for over 400 miles; I don’t understand why they are so important.

The last evening, we celebrate his 70th birthday. Lechon, BBQ pork, rice, and lumpia are presented at a buffet; he has 3 cakes to celebrate. It’s been 3 years since his cancer diagnosis. I kiss him good bye on the cheek the next morning.

[34. Understanding]

Pushing my cart up and down the lanes at the Asian mart, I carefully select from a sea of light and dark brown bottles. Cold sweat ensues in the noodle aisle trying to find the right vessel for the beautifully crafted dish I envision making. Taste buds fondly recall sweet, thinly sliced meat in a pancit recipe made by one of my “tita’s”; this is Chinese sausage and I am happy to find it in the maze of produce and meats.

Next, I am in my own kitchen as I painstakingly prepare all my ingredients. The carrots and cabbage are freshly shaved; the chicken is sliced perfectly and condiments line the counter top while a package of dried rice noodles float in a warm water bath.

The process is surprisingly quick. I am entranced by its simplicity yet it’s complexity in flavor. My carefully cut lemon wedges garnish the edges and fresh green onion is sprayed across the steaming noodles. I make too much because I don’t know any other way.

The carefully wrapped dish sits next to me as I drive past my late uncle’s subdivision. I imagine driving down the street, standing at his doorway and handing him this package. My sense of reality intervenes as I continue driving past his street, car filled with abundant fragrances; garlic, the delicate punches of pepper, the earthiness of the vegetables ending with notes of a tangy citrus.

Instead, I stand at a friend’s front door like I know he did many times before; my heart finds solace in the comfortable warmth of the parcel nestled in my arms. Thoughts linger as I imagine how he swept the aisles of a market in pursuit of a desired ingredient. I imagine every time he surprised someone with their favorite food- or even better when, unbeknownst to them, he would introduce them to their new favorite dish. The only thing I do not have to imagine is how proud he would have been over my humble creation. I can feel that.

My turn has come to serve my loved ones, to remember the favorite foods and insist on second servings to go. Our food is both nourishment and love and we offer it upon welcome and insist you take it with you for when you go.

Now, I understand.

This is dedicated to my Uncle Oscar Dealca Dechavez, who was never empty handed or hearted.

Mga Kuwentong Pagkain 2022 Winners: Roel Anthony Wagan, Visual Narrative Category

Ang nag-iisang nanalo sa Visual Narrative Category ng 'Mga Kuwentong Pagkain 2022' ay si Roel Anthony Wagan.

Isang estudyante at freelancer, inilahad ni Anthony sa isang video ang kwento ng kanyang pamilyang taga-Laguna. Bilang malapit sa lawa ang kanilang tahanan, madalas ang pagluto ng Sinigang na Ayungin sa Bayabas ang kanyang Lola Emma gamit ang sariwang isda na hinuhuli ng kanyang lolo. Labis sa pagsasalamin sa likas na yaman ng kanilang masaganang komunidad, ang simpleng sinigang na ito ay isa ring simbolo ng pagsisikap ng kanilang pamilya at ang bayanihan ng mga Pilipino.

Panoorin ang kanyang video dito:

Abangan ang mga nanalo sa ibang kategorya dito sa website at sa aming social media page.

The Mama Sita Foundation sponsors Quiapo-themed heritage dinner at Lore Manila

The Mama Sita Foundation (MSF) recently sponsored “Peacetime Quiapo (1920 – 1940): Home Recipes from the Art Deco Era,” a non-profit dinner held at the Lore Manila in Bonifacio Global City. The event was curated by food writer Ige Ramos and organized by Fernando Nakpil Zialcita, PhD and his class at the Cultural Heritage Studies Program of the Department of Sociology and Anthropology of the Ateneo de Manila University. 

Erik Akpedonu, Ige Ramos, Gemma Cruz-Araneta, Clara Reyes-Lapus, Jing Brucelas, and Dr. Czarina Saloma-Akpedonu

The four-course meal, interpreted by Chef Tatung Sarthou, featured recipes from the illustrious families of Old Quiapo, then a cosmopolitan enclave that linked Asia, Europe, North and South America in the couple of decades leading up to WWII. Mama Sita’s Balatinaw Heirloom Rice Champorado topped with Balatinaw Pinipig and Danggit bits was served for dessert. Clara Reyes-Lapus, MSF President talked about the Foundation’s Heirloom Grains Project, which was established to support the Kankanaey tribe whose ancestors hand-carved the rice terraces out of the Cordilleras 2,000 years ago.

Chef Tatung Sarthou delivers his talk

Keynoted by Dr. Zialcita, the program articulated the vision of converting the Quiapo district into a living heritage and pilgrimage zone with talks from Claire Vitug of the San Sebastian Basilica Conservation and Development Foundation, Architect Roz Li of Bakas Pilipinas, Dr. Czarina Saloma-Akpedonu of the Loyola School of Social Sciences of the Ateneo de Manila University, and Congressman Joel Chua, chief proponent of the Quiapo Heritage Zone Act, which awaits deliberation at the House of Representatives.

Dr. Ferando Zialcita, Yuan Gabriel Reyes, Earl Joy Lopina, Ria Tenido, Simone Andrea Yatco, and Joshua Imperio.

Miss Gemma Cruz-Araneta, writer, director, and former Tourism Secretary was among the event’s notable guests. Paintings of Quiapo-native Brian Villareal were exhibited in the restaurant.

The Mama Sita Foundation supports Quiapo-themed heritage dinner

True to its mission of raising awareness on Philippine culinary heritage through various initiatives, the Mama Sita Foundation (MSF) presents “Peacetime Quiapo (1920 – 1940): Home Recipes from the Art Deco Era,” a non-profit, student-driven endeavor organized by Fernando Nakpil Zialcita, PhD and his class at the Cultural Heritage Studies Program of the Department of Sociology and Anthropology of the Ateneo de Manila University. The student team from 

Dr. Zialcita’s SOAN 148 (Sociology and Anthropology) who are responsible for putting this event together are the following: Joshua Ephraim Imperio, Earl Joy Lopina, Yuan Gabriel Reyes, Maria Victoria Tenido, and Simone Andrea Yatco.

To be held at the Lore Manila restaurant in Bonifacio Global City, on November 5, from 6:00 p.m. – 9:00 p.m. the event is highlighted by a heritage-themed dinner catered by award-winning chef and best-selling author, Chef Myke “Tatung” Sarthou. The four-course meal features recipes from the illustrious families of Old Quiapo, then a cosmopolitan enclave that linked Asia, Europe, North and South America in the couple of decades leading up to WWII. 

A program steeped in heritage and conservation themes

Curated by food writer, Ige Ramos, the event harks back to that idyllic period in Philippine history while inviting introspection on Quiapo’s relevance today as a living heritage and pilgrimage zone. Paintings of Quiapo native Brian Villareal will be exhibited at the restaurant.

Keynoted by Dr. Zialcita, the program spotlights Quiapo conservation initiatives, with messages from Claire Vitug of the San Sebastian Basilica Conservation and Development Foundation, Architect Roz Li of Bakas Pilipinas, who is spearheading the Buhay Quiapo project from his base in New York City, and Congressman Joel Chua of the Third District of Manila. 

Balitanaw Heirloom Grains – a Philippine culinary treasure

The discourse on food will be led by Chef Tatung who delivers a treatise on salt and shares updates on his latest venture – Lore Manila. Ige Ramos will share interesting tidbits on facets of the Filipino identity which have been shaped by food. Ateneo students will explain the significance of each dish on the menu. Then, Clara Reyes-Lapus, MSF President and principal sponsor, will talk about MSF’s Heirloom Grains Project, which was established to support the Kankanaey tribe whose ancestors hand-carved the rice terraces out of the Cordilleras 2,000 years ago.

The output of this ancient farming method, referred to as “Heirloom Grains” – is still enjoyed today. These upland varieties take much longer to grow but are definitely worth the wait for its unique flavors, textures, and superior nutritional value. Mama Sita’s Balatinaw Heirloom Rice Champorado topped with Balitanaw Pinipig and danggit bits will be served as dessert.

Mga Kuwentong Pagkain – building a repository of heritage food stories

Now on its tenth year, MSF’s Mga Kuwentong Pagkain, an annual contest on heritage food stories, has extended its deadline for submission of entries to December 31, 2022. Anyone from anywhere in the world who has a Filipino food story to tell is invited to join. Even non-Filipinos can now join the conversation on Filipino food. 

Stories can focus on cherished family recipes, hometown culinary traditions, regional food folklore, or even locally grown crops and spices. Mga Kuwentong Pagkain celebrates the uniqueness of Filipino food and the stories that continue to shape it. To make room for more creativity and style in sharing food stories, separate categories were set up for essay, photo and video formats.

Participants can win up to ₱ 20,000 in prizes. Click on this link to join and learn more details about the contest: https://tinyurl.com/MKP2022Form or email community@mgakuwentongpagkain.com.

Grid Magazine Feature: Hearts of Gold

What makes for a gastronomic epicenter is also home to an unlikely mango farm: in San Roque, Pampanga, the Mama Sita Foundation has cultivated mangoes on par with the mango capitals.

When we can find mangoes in pyramids at every supermarket, the local palengke, and even peddled along busy roads—this is how we know summer has arrived in the Philippines.

“Gusto ng mangga yung mainit.” The tropical fruit needs a dry period of three months to ripen enough for picking. This is why all our mango provinces in the country—Guimaras, Pangasinan, Zambales—lie along the western coast.

Philippine mangoes are well-coveted, something we do that no other country can emulate—though Mexico has certainly come close with the Manila Mango and Thailand with Nam Dok Mai.

There are different mangoes for every occasion and palette; though we may not know them all by name, we might recognize them through their unique flavor profiles and texture: the Katchamita (Indian) mango that is best with alamang, or the medicinal taste of the Apple mango, or the fibrous Pahutan mango that grows in the wild.

But it is the Kalabaw mango that is most iconic: shaped like a heart of gold, and while small, its flesh is sweet with a svelte pit. Together with the Piko mango (its smaller, more orange cousin), these are the ones I know best from mango floats, mango sago, dried mangoes, or simply cut criss-cross and eaten cold.

Entire provinces and festivals devote themselves to the Carabao mango, boasting theirs is the best in the country and therefore, the world. Yet this distinction is missing in our local groceries.

Among the mango pyramids, there is nothing to distinguish the Carabao mango from the different variants, let alone from which region they hail from. But maybe the ambiguity in grocery labels is onto something; there is some truth in how it is not the land that makes the mango, but the farmers.

In March, my fellow writer Pat and I joined the Mama Sita Foundation on a media trip to a mango harvest in Pampanga—our baptism by fire at GRID, so to speak. After a two-hour bus ride, we arrived at the farm in San Roque, and were greeted with refreshments of fresh buko, nilagang saba, and mais under the canopy of century-old mango trees.

There we are introduced to Kapitan Elmer David, the owner of the mango farm, who led us deeper into  the two-hectare farm to find the mango trees that the Kapitan planted himself over a decade ago.  

Here, the trees are spaced fifteen feet apart to avoid being crowded, and even their branches were shaped as saplings to spread out, maximized for airflow and sunlight. The mangoes are still green this time of the year; yellow would mean it’s too late—the skin would bruise too easily to harvest.

Philippine mangoes are well-coveted, something we do that no other country can emulate.

Kap Elmer teaches us to pinch the stem by the top of the fruit to avoid being sprayed with its stubborn sap. With a gentle tug, the stem snaps easily: the only sign for the untrained eye that the mango is ready. Alternatively, there are poles with nets on the end called sungkit for picking.

(I had tried to follow Kap’s instructions as best as I could, but because of the mango-picking competition that broke out among the family and guests, my competitive nature nearly cost me a ruined shirt.)

The rest of the caretakers in San Roque have harvesting down to a science: exactly 120 days before harvest season, the leaves are sprayed with potassium nitrate so that they flower a week or two after. Next, the fruits will grow, then sunbathed for three months until just ripe for picking.

Before 1976, mangoes were commercially neglected because of its erratic fruiting habits—it would only fruit for a month in a year. The traditional way to coax trees to bear fruit in the off season was smudging, wherein farmers would burn leaves to induce flowering.

That is, until late national scientist Dr. Ramon Barba made a breakthrough: he replicated the effect of ethylene from the smoke with potassium nitrate. His patent was made available for anyone to reap its benefits—saving time and money for farmers everywhere, and tripling Philippine mango production.

From 130 trees, Kapitan Elmer yields roughly 10,000 kilos of mangoes a year—his produce has reached the stalls of Divisoria, been exported to Hong Kong, and bottled into Mama Sita Mango syrup. His trees have yet to peak at the 50-year mark as a centennial crop.

Unlike in other farms, however, Kap Elmer only harvests once a year—if the trees fruit well one season, he says, then the mangoes would be smaller the next. By giving trees a breather to replenish their nutrients reserve, he ensures the quality of his harvest.

While other provinces may rush and harvest pre-maturely for commercial’s sake, San Roque, lets the trees take their sweet time. Bart Lapus explains that Kapitan Elmer waits until the sugar content is just right. Bart is the nephew (and namesake) to the co-founder of the foundation. Growing up, Teresita “Mama Sita” Reyes would board her entire clan onto provincial buses to take them on food trips and harvest picnics around the Philippines. It is with this memory that led Bart to working in farm management for the foundation.

“All fruit should be sweet when harvested at the right time; walang maasim na mangga kung harvest mo ‘to nang tama sa hinog, nasa oras, nasa bilang ng araw.”

But mother nature has always been the great equalizer.

“In San Roque, they do it with pride and passion. Itong ilalabas kong mangga, kahit onti, ‘pag ito natikman mo, masasarapan ka.”

Among the low-hanging branches, there are mangoes wrapped in newspapers. Kap explains that this helps protect mangoes from kurikong (cecid flies) without using harsh chemicals. Bottles of naptalina or mothballs also hang from the treetops, but their combined efforts aren’t enough to completely get rid of the pest. “I think that’s still a problem to be solved by our scientists, agriculturists, and entomologists,” Bart tells me.

Despite being well into summer, what was an already-gloomy morning gave way to a drizzle. Everyone rushed under tents and umbrellas, arms full with their pickings. Bart explains that such sporadic weather has cost farmers entire months worth of labor.

“Baon sa utang [ang ilan sa] mango growers. Even Kap Elmer will tell us, ‘binagyo kami, hindi kami nakabawi’. Sensitive yung flowers ng mangga. ‘Pag umambon at nabasa yung namulaklak, tawag nila [doon] bukayok—hindi na siya magiging prutas.”

Despite the limited supply of mangoes in the country, many other farmers opt to cut down their trees and plant other crops because of the fruit’s temperamental nature. Bart jokes, “Sabi nga nila mas may tiyansa ka pang manalo ‘pag tumaya ka sa casino kesa sa maging magsasaka ka [ng mangga]. There are only two ways to lose your money: you go to a casino, or you plant Carabao mango.”

ince 1982, the Mama Sita Foundation has helped to foster culinary heritage and agricultural sustainability in the Philippines. Together with different government agencies and local scientists—the foundation has helped farms introduce cultivars, like the Luz calamansi, the Mama Sita Makopa, and the Mama Sita Banana, as well as adopt modern agrarian practices.

This is how Bart came to meet Kapitan Elmer five years ago. Word traveled down the Pampanga grapevine from Suclaban—where Mama Sita was helping farmlands rehabilitate from mono-cropping—down to San Roque. Since then, Mama Sita has aided farmers thrive in the unlikely mango province.

Many Filipinos believe that if a fruit is good, the seed is worth saving. My own mom tells me, “Itatanim ko ‘yan, ‘wag mo itapon yung buto.” (Now, a male papaya tree that cannot bear fruit stands in shame at our backyard.) But that which we plant is not necessarily true to type of what we eat.

It is not the land that makes the mango, but the farmers.

Bart teaches farmers that one of the fastest ways to improve agriculture is by selecting the best planting variants. When it comes to mangoes, it is best to graft seedlings from prolific fruiters—the size and taste of the mango is important criteria, but so are the kinds that do not attract pests.

Coupled with improvements in standardizing crops, cultural management, pruning, and pest control, it’s these developments and insights that have leveled San Roque mangoes to be on par with those that hail from the country’s mango capitals.

“In San Roque, they do it with pride. They do it with passion. Itong ilalabas kong mangga, kahit onti, ‘pag ito natikman mo, masasarapan ka.”

I brought home an entire bayong of mangoes from Pampanga. Between my family and I, it didn’t last more than a weekend.

Originally published on Grid Magazine PH

Students learn about indigenous origins, external influences of Filipino food in Food of Our Ancestors

The Mama Sita Foundation, in partnership with the Universidad de Dagupan’s School of International Hospitality Management, completed its 3-day webinar series from February 22-24, 2022. With the focus of the series on the indigenous origins of Filipino food, participants were able gleam into the first recorded exchanges of food with the Europeans, as well as learn about how our neighbor’s tastes and ingredients influenced the dishes we know today. 

Hosted by GRID Lifestyle and Culture writer Patricia Villoria, the session’s first day was highlighted by the different accounts of European travelers and their interactions with indigenous Filipinos. Food historian Felice Sta. Maria’s Pigafetta’s Picnic video described how native Filipinos offered food and drinks to the famished sailors. Director for the Center of Philippine Studies at the University of Hawaiʻi at Mānoa Dr. Pia Arboleda brought her point that adobo, despite having a name of Spanish origin, is inherently Filipino. With our use of vinegars as a method to preserve meat, indigenous Filipinos have been able to extend the life of their food, long before the adobo we now know in its current form. 

Day 2 introduced the many influences of our neighbors to staple Filipino food. Consultant and Writer for the Mama Sita Foundation Paolo Paculan introduced the parallels of different Filipino dishes, like bibingka, puto, and palitaw with our Vietnamese, Malaysian, 

and Korean cultures. Meranäw Culture advocate Sittie Pasandalan also talked about how these neighbors influenced Meranaw food that we eat today. Chinese-Filipino culture advocate Meah Ang See talked about how intertwined Chinese culture is with Filipino’s, especially when it came to food. Certified Executive Chef Giney Villar shared her knowledge of how the Spanish introduced different words, concepts, and even eating habits to Filipinos. 

The last day saw different cooking demonstrations, including Chef Vicky Pacheco’s seafood sinigang, and Nina Puyat’s pancit palabok 2 ways. The Universidad de Dagupan also showcased the process of smoked bangus, and live demonstrated making gourmet smoked bangus and balonglong gourmet shells. The participants themselves talk about their takeaways from the event, and what they plan on sharing with their friends and family. 

Ending on a high note, the participants of the seminar chanted, “Ipagdiriwang ko ang mga pagkaing Pilipino,” assuring everyone that to be able to share the beauty of Filipino food to the rest of the world, we must first be able to show appreciation for it, ourselves. 

Felice Sta. Maria's Pigafetta's Philippine Picnic is now available from the National Historical Commission of the Philippine's website and other major bookstores in the Philippines. 

Nora Daza and Nina Puyat’s Let’s Cook With Nora is available in online stores and other major bookstores in the Philippines. 

Interested in talking and sharing your stories on Filipino Food? Join our Mga Kuwentong Pagkain: Pinoy Food Stories Facebook Group through this link: 

https://www.facebook.com/groups/mkppinoyfoodstories

Food Historian Felice Sta. Maria and Associate Professor Dr. Pia Arboleda’s knowledge bridged the gap of historical records of Filipino food and contemporary dishes.

Culture Advocates Meah See, Sittie Pasandalan, Mama Sita Foundation Consultant Paolo Paculan, and Chef Giney Villar talk about how indigenization is about being able to personalize dishes made in the context of where you live.

Home cook Nina Puyat shares her experiences cooking palabok, and gives tips and advice for participants who want to replicate her cooking demo. Mama Sita Foundation President Clara Lapus talks about the need for creating sustainable methods of farming in the Philippines.

At the end of the series, the audience chanted, “Ipagdiriwang ko ang mga pagkaing 

Pilipino!”