The name “Cibo,” meaning “food” in Italian, had the nuts and bolts in my head clicking in place. “Sure,” I told Alma in reply to her Facebook message, “I’ve not been there in years.”

Cibo stirs many pleasant memories of dining with dear ones: legendary copy editor Rustie Otico at the Gateway Cubao branch, where we stayed until closing hour; editor Chato Garcellano and my husband Rolly Fernandez, when I had a whole tiramisu to myself; psychologist Dr. Margie Holmes at the Glorietta branch; and my sisters, with whom I savored good food along with bonding time. I particularly remember the squid-ink pasta that I enjoyed with Margie and that blackened the gaps between my teeth, so much so that she handed me a toothbrush as soon as we returned to her hotel room.

I got to Cibo ahead of Alma and immediately the wait staff escorted me to a table for two near the kitchen and dessert cooler. That was what I have always found impressive about the place: the prompt and efficient service. I cooled off from the walk I enjoyed earlier with a tall glass of mint iced tea. Before I could finish it, Alma arrived, huffing from her walk from the MRT terminal.

We decided to split our orders of squash soup, with a dollop of cream in our respective bowls, and seafood spaghetti. While we dined, we updated each other on our lives and families, our writing gigs, our shared advocacy, the Maningning Foundation poetry competition, what dormant book manuscripts we had in our files, even gossip (more out of concern) about our common friends. Alma said she had a ready collection of essays amassed from recent years and asked for recommendations of prospective publisher/s.

Our soup was warm and comforting with the right sweetness coming from the squash. “Mushroom soup would’ve been as delicious,” Alma said. I agreed. Our split order of spaghetti was filling and had the right amount of mussels and squid rings, the pasta perfectly al dente.

When my companion asked for suggestions for her dessert, I recommended the panna cotta (mango, not strawberry). She wasn’t disappointed and licked her teaspoon of the last morsel of panna cotta just as I did with the bombolini, the Italian doughnut with a custard filling. The pastry was coated in caramelized sugar.

At one point while Alma was animatedly speaking, she knocked over a drinking glass which shattered in several pieces on our table. I promptly told her not to touch anything and to leave the mop-up to the staff. Three members of the wait staff were by our side pronto; they addressed the situation and replaced her glass with warm water, her specification. As though nothing had happened. When she offered to pay for the damage, they declined to accept any payment.

Serendipitously, our dinner date fell on March 23 which happened to be the birthday of Cibo’s founder-chef patron, the recently deceased Margarita “Gaita” Forés. 

Her pictures are prominently displayed in the restaurant’s premises. So are her words: “My mission is to make life and living more beautiful and delicious for others.”

I hope her only son Amado continues that mission.

The post Gaita Forés’ first birthday in eternity gives us a Cibo kind of love appeared first on CoverStory.

“I don’t think you will grow up or get to this age in the Philippines without having potatoes, because we love our potatoes,” Reji Retugal, Philippine representative of Potatoes USA, said as much. 

And yet, despite its ubiquity as a staple crop in the country (or anywhere else), there is apparently still much that is overlooked about the potato.

The Potatoes USA media event held at the Makati Shangri-la last March 6 set out exactly to address this lack of awareness while celebrating the starchy crop, especially those grown by American farmers. The two-hour event featured mini-perya games in which participants won prizes, with a presentation by nutritionist and dietician Jo Sebastian further accentuating the potato as the gift that keeps on giving. 

Last September, the Colorado-based Potatoes USA organized an event at Chef’s Table and Kitchen in Brittany Hotel, BGC, which featured an experiential cooking segment with Chef Kalel Chan. But this time, at the Makati program, participants were provided a little back-to-school experience with simple lessons on the nutritional value of the potato.

Energy source

Although potato dishes are widely popular, especially when you consider French fries and potato chips, there is a common misconception that they are “unhealthy” or something to cut out of a diet.

“When we think of potatoes, we don’t see it as the lovely vegetable that it is,” Sebastian said in her talk, titled “From my head to my potatoes.” She continued: “We often see it as ‘Oh, it’s just carbs.’ But let’s take that out of our mind.”

Carbohydrates generally get a bad rep in the diet world as a nutrient you want to do away with (think of the keto diet and its popularity in the last decade), when actually it is crucial to the brain and the body as an energy source. A potato, which provides complex carbohydrates, can help in sustaining energy, protecting muscles during workouts, and is especially beneficial for those who need to manage blood sugar levels. One medium-sized potato alone offers 26 grams of carbohydrates, translating to 9% of your daily value or the total amount the body needs of the nutrient.

“Specifically for athletes, potatoes can be very helpful as they are a complex carb,” Sebastian explained. “For longer-haul exercise, [carbs are] good for sustained energy and [they’re] also fuel for your muscles as glycogen.”

Carbs taken in by the body are stored as glycogen, which helps prevent muscles from being used as energy during prolonged intense physical activities. “It’s so hard to build it, so we want to keep it as much as we can,” Sebastian said. “Potatoes can be a great source of making sure that our muscles are protected, especially in fuelling and recovery.”

Immunity and collagen production

Potatoes also provide vitamin C, which correlates to a boosted immune system, collagen production, and iron absorption. 

“They say the production of collagen tends to go down by the age of 25,” the 26-year-old dietician said. “So we really want to make sure that we are getting not just enough protein, but also our vitamin C.” 

A medium-sized potato can provide 27 grams of vitamin C, or 30% of your daily value, which is usually only around 60 or 70 milligrams per day. Vitamin C also works as an antioxidant that helps make sure the body’s cells are protected, and helps with iron absorption which is essential for blood production and oxygen.

“We have something called free radicals, [which] attack the cells in the body. But antioxidants neutralize these free radicals so that they don’t attack our body,” Sebastian said. As for iron, vitamin C helps absorb the mineral, especially when consumed from plant-based sources.

“Potatoes provide us with iron, and even better, provide us with vitamin C so we are sure to absorb this,” she said.

Higher than a banana’s

One of the surprising facts about the potato is that it has more potassium than a banana (the fruit you’d think of right off the bat when it comes to potassium). But if a banana’s potassium content is around 422 milligrams, or roughly 9% of your daily value, the potato provides 620 milligrams of the electrolyte, or 15% of your daily value. 

“Potassium and sodium together help with fluid balance. When sodium goes in, potassium goes out,” Sebastian said. The electrolyte is especially important for those with hypertension and blood pressure or heart concerns, and plays a role in muscle contraction and nerve transmission as well. 

“When you sweat, you are not just sweating out water. You’re also sweating out your electrolytes, which are potassium, calcium, magnesium, and sodium,” the nutritionist added. Particularly for athletes or physically active people, excess perspiration, without the replenishment of electrolytes, can cause dehydration, which is characterized by fatigue and mental confusion, and, in more severe cases, can even lead to coma. 

“It’s why athletes need to regulate their intake of fluid and potassium,” Sebastian said. “And because potatoes contain a great amount of potassium, they are a perfect electrolyte source.”

Bulking and building up 

On average, a person needs 20 to 25 grams of fiber—a type of carbohydrate that the body can’t digest—per day. On the other hand, Filipinos only typically get eight to 10 grams.

“Usually we’re only thinking, ‘Don’t eat this, don’t eat that.’ But we’re never told what we should be adding into our nutrition, and one of those things is fiber,” Sebastian said.

Fiber creates bulk. It slows down digestion, which means less release of sugar into the bloodstream, providing blood sugar balance as well as sustained energy. The potato is also high in resistant starch which, like fiber, helps in blood sugar management and satiety, while additionally helping in blood lipid and glucose levels, and increasing the good bacteria in the colon. 

A single serving of the staple crop provides two grams of fiber, or 7% of your daily value, alongside three grams of protein, “which is also a great amount for what you would consider your vegetable or even a carbohydrate,” Sebastian said, adding:

“Protein is very important because it provides you amino acids. Amino acids are the building blocks for your tissues, your hormones, and your muscles. We go back to collagen, which is made up of amino acids. That comes from protein.”

Because of the potato’s fiber, resistant starch, and protein components, eating it can make you feel quite full. “It’s so nutrient-packed,” the dietician said. “It’s why we feel so satisfied.”

Gut health equals mental health

Sebastian—who is also the founder of HEAL, which provides support for those with eating disorders such as binge eating—emphasized the link between gut health and brain health.

“Sometimes they say those who have IBS (irritable bowel syndrome) or acid reflux have the tendency or increased risk for anxiety and depression because gut health can be related,” she said. 

Sebastian recommended a balanced potato-based meal plan for a day: tortang patatas (potato omelet) with itlog na pula (red salted eggs) for breakfast; chicken afritada with extra potatoes for lunch; baked kamote and potato fries for snacks; and rice with grilled fish and ensaladang talong (eggplant salad) for dinner. 

She cited “Pinggang Pinoy,” or Pinoy Plate, a food guide intended to promote healthy eating for Filipinos—“one-fourth carbs, one-fourth protein, and [the other] half of your plate will be for your produce, or your fruits and veggies.” It’s easy to see where potatoes can find their place.

Still, the nutritionist underlined the need to examine context when creating a meal plan or even simply your own personalized diet.

“Context is very important,” she said. “One of the things I always talk about in my videos and content and with my clients is how nutrition is always dependent on your context.”  

And the context is not just in terms of physical or medical needs, but in terms of cultural preferences as well: “Everybody is different. And in Filipino culture, we can see how potatoes can still fit in that place,” Sebastian said. “There’s just a way to fit it locally, and I think that’s the best part.”

Read more: The American potato’s 7,000-mile adventure

The post Lessons on the beloved potato (or how it fits quite nicely in Filipino cuisine) appeared first on CoverStory.

Not being able to cook is surprising, given how popular culinary courses are now and even just how dime-a-dozen cooking shows are crowding television and the internet. In fact, the food and beverage industry is among the fastest growing sectors of the economy.

More than my mother, it was her mother Victorina Tubiano viuda de Lim, my Lola Mameng, who taught me the basics of cooking. But now that I think about it, it wasn’t really cooking. It was more of kitchen chores or cooking prep: a lot of tasks related to cooking but not cooking itself. 

My childhood kitchen prep way back in 1960s Cagayan de Oro was extensive, and that’s where the secret lay, I now realize. You have to be steeped in prep to eventually love cooking and not find it a chore. It began from splitting and drying tree bark for firewood (obtained from the logging trucks that regularly passed in front of the house), to carrying the basket while in Cogon market (with bountiful fresh fish, even baby sharks, for sale), to pounding and winnowing rice, catching and slaughtering the chicken for lunch or dinner, and starting and banking a wood or charcoal cooking fire.

Lola Mameng even made me descale and clean the fish, a task that I found tedious and messy and could not do well, the fish being slippery and often still alive and with sharp pointy parts. I was not happy with it, being a boy of 10 who would rather just play and read comic strips and go on imaginary adventures with The Phantom or The Lone Ranger (character favorites which, in retrospect already showed my preference to work in the background or to do things by myself).

My dislike of the task also stemmed from my apprehension that, while gutting the fish, I’d inadvertently burst the gallbladder and make the rest of the fish bitter. Lola Mameng warned me of this. I need not have feared so much, of course, knowing now that I could have extracted the innards in their entirety without bursting anything, or that I could have rinsed off any bile and whatever else needed to be washed out. But such were my childhood fears, not the least of which was the fear of making a mistake and being blamed for making the fish bitter. (But it was fair warning from Lola Mameng, as fish gallbladder has been shown as highly toxic.)

Well, Lola Mameng did teach me how to use my fingers to estimate the correct amount of water to cook rice in (depth to slightly beyond first joint of middle finger; I never saw her use a measuring cup) although come to think of it again, I had child fingers and she had adult fingers. She also taught me a boiled egg hack just before I went to Boy Scout camp: Put the egg in the rice pot along with the rice, and when your rice is cooked, so will your egg be, and you can have your meal.  

Lola Mameng was a fish person, and her favorite way of cooking fish was inun-unan (or paksiw na isda), soured with vinegar and ginger. Eating, she liked to suck the fish head. I preferred the fleshy parts but she told me that if I did the same and ingested those fish brains, I would become brighter. It was not an old fish story, I learned later. Fish heads are a good source of vitamin A and omega-3 fatty acids that help maintain good eyesight and boost memory and cognitive function.

Almost everything at our table was fresh; there was hardly any processed food. Our rice was brown or red. On nonmarket and no-leftover days, Lola Mameng relied on buwad (or dried fish) of all sorts or a newly slaughtered chicken from the backyard or her tins of salted pork encased in solidified lard. Also among her staples was ginamos (or bagoong, which was made of goby fish fry when it was still plentiful in Macajalar Bay) mixed with fresh sliced ripe tomatoes. Simple, tasty, inexpensive and easy to do. 

This dish I make until now, except that in addition to the tomatoes, the bulk is made of cucumber, with thinly sliced onions and bell pepper, flavored with either fresh or pickled mango and bagoong alamang. It can be eaten by itself or with canned tuna or chicken or other meats. Less carbs, less sugar, less processed food. Somewhat salty, though. 

We even had fresh goat’s milk brought to us every morning. The delivery completely stopped after some time. Maybe the goat or the goatherd died? I never found out.

There were no culinary schools and courses during my student days; the closest was home economics, and it was the girls who took that. At the University of the Philippines in Diliman, it was a treat to have a meal at “H.E.” because the food was good, the girls were pretty, and the tables were covered with white tablecloths all the more making us unsophisticated students accustomed to a UP cafeteria with bare tables feel “special.”

Now culinary training is accessible to everyone, and it is one occupation or preoccupation where age does not matter. Even skill does not matter. As long as one doesn’t burn the food, there is almost infinite leeway for error and experimentation. Only interest and persistence matter. So, get cooking! 

Read more: Over a hot stove: ‘Ube halaya’ and love’s labors

The post Lola Mameng and my kitchen prep appeared first on CoverStory.

This last Sunday was the exemption because the invitation to lunch felt like a court summons. Among the invitees were two other retired University of the Philippines Baguio professors, Delfin Tolentino Jr. and Ben Tapang. But at the last minute, they came down with the sniffles and flu-like symptoms.

The party, hosted by painter Kora Dandan Albano and her editorial-illustrator husband Jimbo, went on as scheduled. Rolly and I thought we’d be tardy because of the difficulty of getting a Grab ride or a regular cab to take us to the Albanos’ abode in Barangay Dontogan. They are practically our neighbors. We could’ve walked to their place, but not with a pot of warm beef mechado in Rolly’s hand and a bag of gifts in mine.

And who should meet us at the Albano gate but Kayu, the dog belonging to sculptor Roberto “Bob” Acosta and his wife, multimedia artist Katti Sta. Ana who also teaches at the College of Fine Arts in UP Diliman. Kayu wore a cone around her neck to keep her from scratching a wound. The other greeter was the Albano poodle Hermione (yes, named after the strong female character in the Harry Potter series).

We caught poet Aldrin Pentero talking on his phone with a person at Saint or Sinner, a bakery-restaurant downtown, about the delivery of a cake. Kora’s table was set, the food was laid out, and grace was said when suddenly, Aldrin cried out that he had pressed an extra number in his GCash payment: Instead of paying only P1,000-plus for a carrot cheesecake, he had entered P11,000! Frantically, he called the bakery again and gave instructions on the return of the excess P10,000. Rolly joked that he should just consider it a holiday tip: “Merry Christmas na lang ’yan!” The snafu was eventually sorted out. Aldrin didn’t rest until his GCash showed that the money had been returned.

Conversation

Our lunch was enriched by reminiscences on the food of the Yule season still present in family menus like ube halaya, and suman sa latik, both of which Kora, with some help, produced from her kitchen. Katti and Rolly recalled the linupak and binatog of their childhood. I observed how children, especially those in public schools, are deprived of these healthy snacks and make do with chichirya (junk food) at recess time. Katti agreed, saying, “Look at the rot in their teeth.”

Kora recalled the hard work behind making ube, how, in her youth, she saw women churning the ube with a sagwan or paddle for a special occasion. Her ube is comparable to the Good Shepherd’s bottled product. But Good Shepherd’s ace is that its product is creamier because the nuns’ kitchen has a machine capable of breaking down the ube and is not reliant on churning by hand.

For some reason, the conversation turned serious when it focused on feminist hero Gisèle Pelicot of France. Rolly, Bob and Katti were clueless about Pelicot’s landmark case against her husband and her many rapists. (Ever since Rolly retired from newspaper work, he has not kept tabs on current events and relies on short social media reports, but it seems the Frenchwoman’s story escaped him.) Aldrin, Kora and I brought them up to date, and the dropped jaws and shock didn’t ruin appetites somehow.

Chow

It was an afternoon of chewing and trying anything pulled out of the ref or the pantry. I’m happy to report that my mechado, the only meat dish, was a hit. I never got that much praise for my cooking before. I deem it a compliment to my late gourmand of a mother from whom I learned how to produce the dish. (See sidebar.)

Katti brought three vegetarian dishes from Himalayan Nepalese Cuisine, with the Pakora earning everyone’s approval. I dipped my share in a red hot sauce, not the cool green minty one. Kora had vegetarian lasagna delivered from Hill Station. Who’s the health-conscious among us? Jimbo, who has been fully vegetarian for many, many years!

There were slices of queso de bola, another Christmas staple, and fruitcake (also baked by Kora) to go with the chilled bignay fruit wine gifted by artist Dindo Llana before he left Baguio after the launch of our book Narda: From Nursing to Weaving My Dreams, the biography of Narda Capuyan.

Outside the fog was thick, hiding Mount Sto. Tomas from view. When we had half-exhausted ourselves from chatting, I asked if we could document our get-together with pictures at the balcony. Kayu joined our group and smiled for the camera. 

(I noted how Kayu and Hermione are such well-behaved pets. I told Rolly we should have brought our Satchi so she would learn to socialize. He said she might be too frisky in unfamiliar surroundings and cause an accident.)

Someone noticed the slight guava tree heavy with fruit in the garden. Before long, Rolly was munching on one of many plucked by Jimbo.

After coffee, there was reluctance to leave. What followed was an exchange of gifts. We got a Kora tray produced by Casa Juan Manila, bottled tuyo from Katti, a terracotta refrigerator magnet from Bob, and Aldrin’s latest poetry zines which he signed with my purple pen.

Katti drove us home where Rolly retrieved pots of red and pink poinsettia as his offerings to our friends. Bob walked Kayu on our road before they drove off to the high mountain where they live.

My mother’s mechado

Ingredients:

1 kilo beef, cubed or mechado cut

1 kilo ripe tomatoes

2 big onions

2 whole garlic, peeled and pounded

4 medium potatoes, quartered

3 carrots, chopped into circles

1 medium-size pack of tomato sauce

3 bay leaves

1 lemon and soy sauce (for the marinade)

Salt and black pepper to taste

Cooking oil

Procedure:

Marinate the beef in a mixture of lemon juice and soy sauce overnight or at least two hours before cooking.

Fry onions and garlic in oil. Stir in the chopped tomatoes and let simmer until the tomatoes are soft. Add the chunks of beef with their marinade. Pour in 2 cups of water or beef broth until the meat is covered. Add the tomato sauce and stir. Boil in medium heat for one and a half hours. If using a pressure cooker, cook for 30-45 minutes.

When meat is tender, add the potatoes and carrots. Season with a pinch of salt and a dash of pepper. Simmer for another 10 minutes, or until the vegetables soften. Turn off heat, remove bay leaves, and serve.

Read more: This Christmas, help yourself forgive with the ‘REACH’ method

The post Once upon a Christmas potluck appeared first on CoverStory.

To further promote Ilonggo cuisine worldwide, the city launched a book, “Gastronomic Expressions of Our City, Iloilo: Nature, Culture, and Geography,” last Dec. 14 at the Iloilo Museum of Contemporary Art. 

The book is intended to serve as an essential resource, highlighting the unique flavors, techniques, and cultural significance of Ilonggo dishes, and blending the region’s natural resources with its vibrant traditions. It took almost one year to produce. 

With its release, Iloilo City’s commitment to celebrating and sharing its culinary identity is now officially documented, offering both locals and visitors an in-depth exploration of its gastronomy.

Heart and soul 

In her foreword, Tourism Secretary Christina Garcia Frasco proclaims Iloilo as “a beacon of cultural pride and culinary excellence, inspiring us all to cherish and celebrate our unique gastronomic heritage.” 

Leafing through the pages allows one to “discover the heart and soul of Iloilo—from its verdant landscapes, proud history, vibrant culture, and the strength of spirit of its people,” Frasco said. 

In his preface, Eric Babar Zerrudo, executive director of the National Commission for Culture and the Arts, cites his childhood memory of the popular La Paz Batchoy as an “iconic part of the Ilonggo cuisine, defining the experience, the people, and the place.”

A native of Ajuy, Iloilo, Zerrudo recalls Sundays spent with his parents enjoying a bowl of batchoy at the La Paz Public Market after church.

Mayor Jerry P. Treñas describes Ilonggo food as “a love language in the City of Love,” and cites the enduring Ilonggo trait of always being concerned with what to eat for the day—from breakfast to dinner and snacks in between.” He points out that the daily lives of the Ilonggos revolve around food. 

The book “chronicles the Ilonggo food culture for the next generation to know, love, and preserve the rich heritage of our cuisine,” Treñas writes, adding: “We are truly elated that Iloilo City was designated as the first Unesco Creative City of Gastronomy in the Philippines, which introduced the city to the global culinary scene.”

First of its kind 

The book is considered a definitive publication on Ilonggo gastronomy. It is the first of its kind that touches on the multidimensionality of Ilonggo food following the conceptual framework developed by Filipino scholar, writer, and book designer Guillermo “Ige” Ramos of the Ugnayan Center for Filipino Gastronomy.

It was Ramos who designed and conceptualized the book with its technical team and project management, which was headed by Iloilo City’s First Lady Rosalie S. Treñas as the project executive director.

“Creating books is an expression of love,” Ramos said upon the completion of the project. He said it is also “a way of expressing patriotism and a result of a group of people working together with a common sense of purpose, pride, and passion.”

“It takes a village, so to speak, to realize a project of this magnitude,” Ramos added. 

The book is enlivened by insights that are academic, philosophical, historical, cultural, and even experiential and anecdotal.

The back cover blurb is accentuated by the academic wisdom of Dr. Clement C. Camposano, chancellor of the University of the Philippines Visayas, who provides a cohesive summary of the various historical and cultural functions of food. 

Dr. Laya Boquerin Gonzales’ afterword underscores cultural memory, identity, supply chains, food security, and climate change, among other issues. She is an assistant professor and chair of the Department of Arts, University of Asia and the Pacific, and a member of the International Council on Monuments and Sites Philippines and of the International Council of Museums.

The book is voluminous at 8.5 x 11 inches and 244 pages, and comprises six major sections written by Ilonggo professionals, writers, and journalists: Geography by Vicente Segovia Salas, Ethnicity by Hazel Palmares Villa, Ingredients by Glenda S. Tayona and Pearl Rylene Mae S. Socias, Technology by this writer, and Recipes by Rosalie S. Treñas.

The chapter on Ingredients showcases watercolor illustrations by Ilonggo artists Vic Nabor and Kevin Fernandez.

Thematic stories, community recipes

The book carries special focused stories on Guimaras mangoes as the country’s first labelled product awarded with Geographic Indicator Status by the International Property Office of the Philippines, and the local ingredient “roselle plant,” locally known as labog, which is also a prominent and meaningful embellishment in the traditional panubok design of the Panay Bukidnon Indigenous Peoples. 

It draws attention to Ilonggo women who are shaping Iloilo’s culinary scene and identifies the intersection of food, art, and museums that exhibit food ingredients, history, and economy.

The chapter on Recipes is a compendium of Ilonggo dishes with more than 80 pages of photos and recipes that highlight local ingredients, cooking methods, and processes by revered Ilonggo chefs and restaurateurs: Cidj Jalandoni, Miguel Cordova, Miner del Mundo, Raymundo Robles, Maridel P. Uygongco, and Rosalie S. Treñas, among others. 

It presents a perspective from the ground with recipes from the communities, like the Citywide Farmers’ Association, the Office of the City Agriculturist, and students from the Technical Institute of Iloilo City together with the micro and small entrepreneurs engaged in rice cakes and snacks popularly called kakanin.

It discusses Green Gastronomy and food maps intended for visitors to the city who like to go on a food crawl, offering a good selection of Iloilo Culinary Heritage, Street Food Adventure, Sustainable Eats, and top picks by Ilonggo chefs. 

The book’s editor is the respected Michaela “Mickey” Fenix, who has chaired the Doreen G. Fernandez Food Writing Award since its inception in 2002. Fenix has edited more than a dozen books and is an award-winning author of various books on Philippine food and gastronomy.

“The Gastronomic Expressions of our City, Iloilo: Nature, Culture, and Geography” is available in two versions, hardbound at P1,200 and soft cover at P950. For orders, contact the Iloilo Festivals Foundation Inc. at 0960-420-2129 or visit their office at the Ground Floor, Iloilo Freedom Grandstand, Muelle Loney Street., Iloilo City.

Read more: ‘Namit!’ highlights the tastes and aromas of Iloilo food

The post Gastronomy book brings Ilonggo cuisine to the world appeared first on CoverStory.

Flatten each ball with a rolling pin to the thickness you want. Fold the sheets of dough and cut into noodles with a knife. Remember to dust with flour so the strings don’t stick together.

In a sauce pan or stockpot, boil water with salt and cook the batches of noodles in them using a strainer for two minutes each.

Voila, you now have potato noodles—just one of the myriad ways the starchy root vegetable can be used to make a meal, aside from its more popular forms as chips, French fries, or hash browns.

The potato noodles made from scratch was the first potato meal cooked by Raintree Restaurant Group’s corporate chef Kalel Chan in a media event held on Sept. 26 at Chef’s Table and Kitchen in Brittany Hotel, BGC.  

The event, organized by Potatoes USA, was meant to demonstrate the versatility of the staple crop that has come thousands of miles from a farmland in the United States to a sleek metropolitan hotel in the Philippines. The American potato is ubiquitous and diverse in texture: You’d be surprised how often you’d find it in most dishes cooked in local restaurants, fast-food joints, and home kitchens. Or perhaps it’s not too much of a surprise. The potato is, after all, well-loved by both those who cook and those who eat.

Sheer size and volume

In the vast farmlands of the United States, all you’d see is an endless sky above endless row crops. These farmlands can be found all across that country, especially in the western states such as Washington, Oregon, California, and especially Idaho.

“When we say ‘farms’ in the US, they’re not small,” Reji Retugal, Philippine representative of Potatoes USA, said in her introduction to the event before the cooking demonstrations. “They’re hundreds of thousands of acres.”

Unlike in our Philippine farmlands of staple crops, these American farmlands are not framed by trees or mountains where you can see the edge of things. If you were to travel through this landscape, it would feel like driving for hours on a treadmill of a road with acres and acres of fields on either side of you, as far as the eye can see.

Because of the sheer size, and consequently the volume, of potato yields in a standard American farm, much of potato production—from farming to harvesting to storing to processing—requires advanced technology that would mechanize and accelerate the whole process. To help ease access in the procurement of equipment and farming solutions, most farmlands have consolidated from what used to be thousands of small potato farms into what may be called “co-ops.” This arrangement aids the farmer in acquiring, say, a high-capacity potato harvester, or methods in blight detection in food processing.

Largest supplier

Yields usually depend entirely on the weather. Sometimes Europe has more output, other times the United States. Price is also directly related to these changeable conditions.

“And you can’t control it,” Retugal said. “You can farm as much as you want, but the weather is the weather.”

Even then, the United States is the largest supplier of potatoes to the Philippines. Among its many potato products available in our local markets, instant mashed is a staple in supermarkets and can be available in bulk or wholesale especially for retail food services such as big caterers, fast-food chains, and busy restaurants, who no longer have to “open their kitchens at 3 [a.m.] just to boil, wash, peel, cut, and mash potatoes,” Retugal said.

“Now they just heat water, put in the [stuff], add whatever they want—salt, milk, butter—and it’s instant mashed,” she said.

But in the market for American potatoes, the most popular is frozen potatoes—and the Philippines is the largest market for it in all of Southeast Asia.

“Luzon, Visayas, Mindanao … We consume our frozen potatoes with gusto. Everywhere you go, there’s some kind of frozen potato, and the majority of that is from the US,” Retugal said. “We love our frozen potatoes. And we’re just happy to present them to you because these are quality potatoes.”

Versatile and diverse

One of their long-time collaborators is Chef Kalel, who was among the first to join Potatoes USA events in Boracay, when he was only 17 years old.

At Thursday’s event, in one of the many cooking stations in the large, airy kitchen enclosed in glass walls, he whipped up two dishes: the US Potato Ramen (made of hand-made potato noodles and topped with Sichuan dan dan sauce) and the mapo tofu potato cheese fries.

For both dishes, he wasted no time even as he verbally and visually guided participants through the cooking process and answered questions. While cooking the potato noodles, he also made several varieties of pasta cuts with the leftover dough, before putting the cooked noodles in a bowl and pouring in the dan dan sauce made of Sichuan ground pepper, sugar, prepared chili oil, grated garlic, tahini, soy sauce, and five-spice powder.

It took around five minutes, or what felt like it, and even less for the mapo tofu dish with the cheese fries already cooked and seasoned. On a pan over high heat, he sautéed garlic, ginger, onions, and ground pork until brown, before pouring in the rest of the seasonings: sake, mirin, shoyu, sugar, Sichuan pepper, tobanjan paste, sesame oil, and a little bit of water. This was simmered to a thick consistency, added with the silken tofu, and then poured onto the seasoned crisp fries with grated cheese and chopped spring onions. He ran a blowtorch on top of the dish to melt the cheese into the sauce and fries.

It seemed simple enough, if only it was not demonstrated by an executive chef who worked fast and accurately at multiple kitchen tasks. It takes a certain intuition in terms of timing and proportioning of ingredients. Indeed, how does one account for the pleasant balance in the hot cheese fused into the smooth, evenly spiced sauce and the silken tofu melting cooly on the tongue after biting off a crispy seasoned potato wedge from that dish, if not some kind of instinct—a gut feel, if you will—of the best pairings for certain experiences in food? But he also regularly encouraged adjusting based on preference: “You can put more chicken stock if you feel it’s too dry” for the noodles, or “You can use other kinds of fries other than wedges.”

In the experiential cooking segment after Chef Kalel’s demonstration, participants tried their hand in potato dishes of their choice, from tater tots seasoned with paprika, to burrito bowls, to fries wrapped in beef strips. These dishes all incorporate frozen potato varieties that are widely available in supermarkets or even local groceries, and can be modified based on the ingredients readily available.

“The idea is to not aim for something that chefs would do,” Retugal said of the event. “We want to show you that we can create healthy, delicious, fast meals at home, using frozen potatoes.”

Core objective

This is a core objective of Potatoes USA. Formerly called US Potato Board before rebranding six years ago, they research extensively and market US potatoes by initiating programs that target consumers, food service operators, retailers, and health professionals, engaging in social media campaigns and collaborating with chefs in potato recipe construction for the average home cook or consumer. They also plan on a macro scale, aiming for global markets for American potatoes by establishing new trades.

But on ground level, the organization concentrates on consumer outreach, such as in supermarkets. They do tasting programs and invite chefs to create easy potato recipes that can be done by anyone. In particular, they regularly collaborate with chefs, as well as restaurants and food industry powerhouses, to promote US potatoes.

“Name a chef [in the Philippines], and we’ve probably worked with them or are working with them,” Retugal remarked.

But despite their aim of increasing demand and driving awareness of their potatoes, they make it clear that they are not in the selling business. “What we do is we represent the [US] farmers, and we share with you information that we think is important for you to share with consumers,” Retugal said. And, she said, Potatoes USA does not promote specific brands: “Anywhere from the US is our potato.”

“Farmers are the most hardworking people you will ever meet, whether they are Filipino farmers or American farmers.” Retugal added. “They are not a brand. They are their products. So their commitment is to the product, wherever it goes, whoever eats it. They want to make sure, whether it goes to the Philippines, to China or domestic, that it’s the best potato that comes out of their farm.”

Read more: ‘People who love to eat are always the best people’

The post The American potato’s 7,000-mile adventure appeared first on CoverStory.

We, the family of the eldest, were left in Manila, the last vestige of our otherwise huge clan.

My father’s mother migrated to Manila from Batac, Ilocos Norte, in her teens to work as a server at a small neighborhood eatery in Manila. She was 18 when a Manileño convinced her to marry. Soon after my father was born, his father left to work overseas—an OFW long before the term was coined, and even longer than that misnomer “Bagong Bayani” was spun. 

My grandfather was a welder who left for two years at a time to work in places like Guam, Saipan, Hawaii. Every time he came home from a contract, it was said, you could be sure that nine months later, my grandmother would give birth to a child (once, to twin girls!).

To help make ends meet, my grandmother would cook different dishes and sell them. She’d slow-cook beef for mechado or take care to shake (not stir) the clay pot to make authentic Ilocano pinakbet. My father’s favorite memory is coming home from school and enjoying a tall glass of her halo-halo. 

Fiesta

Growing up, I remember that whenever my grandmother or grandfather or both were around, it felt like a big fiesta because relatives and friends would come to the house and, inevitably, we’d make trips to the beach or nearby Tagaytay. But her favorite outing was a trip to Antipolo, to pray at the church (now cathedral) and to meet with some relatives who had moved there.

Whenever distant relatives visited, I steeled myself for the inevitable sound of crying animals that they’d bring all the way from the Ilocos: live chickens, a pig, a goat. I remember the frantic clucking and chirping of chickens as someone (or several) chased them around the backyard. I didn’t like that sound, but I dreaded even more the silence that followed because I knew then that the chickens had been caught, their necks slit, the blood drained into an old plastic ice cream container. Also seared into my memory is the smell of burnt feathers.

I felt my hairs stand on end as men struggled to hold down a goat. I never forgot the first time, when I sat perched halfway up the staircase of our house, looking down at what they were doing—but mostly averting my eyes. I wished that the goat’s cries would stop, but I also knew it meant that the goat had been killed. I detested the smell of singed goat hairs: deep and seeping under my skin, making me feel uncomfortably warm and itchy. 

Eventually my mother made sure I stayed in our bedroom with the door shut whenever there was butchering to be done. A few times after the ruckus someone would thrust goat’s horns in my direction—for what reason, I have no idea—but soon, my parents put an end to that, declaring that no one was going to put mutilated parts of any bloody animal near their daughter. 

America

I first stepped on American soil in the 2000s—long after my grandparents celebrated their 50^th wedding anniversary there. Earlier, our family of four applied for US visas for the first time but were “denied,” so I pledged that I would never let myself be as vulnerable as that again—to lose hundreds of dollars in an instant at a consul’s whim.

Yet I relented because by the time I started graduate studies in Europe in 2011, my grandparents could no longer make their once-every-two-years trip home to the Philippines. Their many aches and pains kept them away—at least, physically—from us and the rest of their family. I was granted a US visa valid for 10 years by a consul in Bucharest who had just come from working in the US Embassy in Manila.

In that 10-year period, I went to the United States five or six times, and spent most of my month-long trips at my grandparents’ apartment in the Bay Area. The first time I spent Christmas with them was my first time to participate in a large holiday gathering where there was too much food and activities and many conversations all happening simultaneously—plus videoke. I also met most of my cousins in person for the very first time. 

I heard my cousins recount their common experiences with our grandparents, particularly our Lola Aning. One cousin attributed becoming vegan to witnessing one too many times my grandmother butcher a chicken. They reminisced about special occasions when she painstakingly prepared Ilocano miki from scratch—they relished every spoonful. I was in my 40s the first time I ever tasted miki, when an aunt took me and a cousin to try it at a roadside stall in my grandmother’s hometown. 

The best

After my grandfather passed away in 2013, only my grandmother and her caregiver lived in that apartment. My parents advised me to visit her more often and, since I also liked to cook, to learn from her as much as I could.

My father always said that his mother’s ube halaya was simply the best: a product of much time and effort, not only in preparing all the ingredients but, more so, slaving over a hot stove to get the consistency right. He described it as maligat–chewy, not hard, and not a thin paste.

Thankfully, in California, Asian stores and farmers’ markets that sell ube abound. Lola Aning would have none of that frozen stuff, so we had to find fresh root crops. She taught me how to determine when the yams were boiled perfectly, how to grate them using the mid-sized perforation size. In the process, I had to get rid of the parts that were too hard or imperfect—they were no good.

Then the hard part: the cooking. I had to get the heat going slowly, mix all the ingredients in the deep pan: some butter, evaporated milk, condensed milk, and grated ube. I had to stir slowly, barely stopping, to cook it evenly. I had to stir clockwise consistently, then observe as the clumpy mass transformed into a smoother mixture—but not stop! I had to continue stirring, until the mixture formed bubbles here then there. 

At this point, it became more difficult to stir the heavy mass. But I had to continue stirring! As the resistance increased and brown parts formed, I learned to turn off the heat, and continue stirring a little more before removing the pan to cool. Nothing should stick to the pan! If I did it correctly, I’d be rewarded—when the mixture reached room temperature—with enough discernible bits of the yam and a chewy final product.

During our training sessions, my grandmother watched me carefully. She gave me instructions and I’d call her at certain points to check my progress. She’d get up from her cushioned chair, take her cane, and walk the five feet it took to get to the kitchen. She’d glance at the pan, then say if it needed more work or was approaching completion: “Kulang pa, matagal pa ‘yan” or “Sandali na lang, haluin mo nang mabuti.”

Lola Aning also taught me that, before transferring the ube halaya into clean glass jars, I should smear the inside of the jars generously with margarine to keep it from sticking. I also learned at what temperature it was cool enough to store. It is always more delicious when eaten cold, after a few hours in the refrigerator.

‘Sakto’

After a few years, because I’d make at least one batch every time I visited her, she judged my version as “perfect.”

Back home in Manila, I made the same and my father exclaimed that it was exactly how his mother had made it: “Sakto!” That was in August 2019.

Lola Aning passed away in December 2019, a few months before the entire world shut down because of the Covid-19 pandemic.

Years later, being more health-conscious, I have adapted the recipe to use coconut-based ingredients, locally sourced and generally healthier: coconut oil, coconut sugar, and coconut milk. Of course, I do all the squeezing from freshly grated coconut. My grandmother would not have had it any other way.

Read more: Food, friendship and more on a tour with a chef

The post Over a hot stove: ‘Ube halaya’ and love’s labors appeared first on CoverStory.

I came to know this because I looked it up, my curiosity having been piqued by certain groups that are pooling their efforts in preventing food wastage and, consequently, helping ease hunger in the country.

Hunger is a critical issue that should merit everyone’s attention. Last May 29, CoverStory.ph joined others in coming to an understanding of how Allianz PNB Life, Scholars of Sustenance, and Loaves x Fish Foundation are working together to fight hunger, stop food waste, and save the environment. 

‘Rescuing’ surplus food

Our first stop was the Loaves x Fish base in Filinvest Corporate City in Alabang, Muntinlupa City. This is where Scholars of Sustenance bring “rescued” surplus food that will be cooked and prepared for delivery to designated communities. 

Arthur Bitagcol, director of operations of Scholars of Sustenance, described it as “a nonprofit environmental organization that ‘rescues’ good-quality surplus food like those from hotels—for example, from buffets.” 

“We also rescue products for donation from retailers and manufacturers,” he said, adding that these foods and products are then given to beneficiaries, like Loaves x Fish, on a daily basis.

Scholars of Sustenance began operations in Thailand in 2016, in Indonesia in the same year, and in the Philippines in 2022. Its founder is Bo Holmgren, a Danish entrepreneur-philanthropist whose efforts in reducing the world’s food waste are acknowledged as a big help in fighting hunger and in preserving the environment. 

When Scholars of Sustenance started its food surplus rescue in the Philippines, the No. 1 global insurer Allianz PNB Life was among its early partners. Bitagcol said Allianz’s assistance never wavered, enabling Scholars of Sustenance’s operations to continue on a daily basis. 

“In fact, Scholars of Sustenance’s food truck, sponsored by Allianz and named ‘KaGat’ (‘bite’ in Filipino), has already delivered 1.2 million meals,” Bitagcol said. “Per my computation, it equates to 250 trucks worth of food that have been given to those in need.” 

That’s a lot of food that reached many people and did not end up in landfills. 

Biblical miracle

Loaves x Fish is a new organization inaugurated last April 7 although its operations started two months earlier. Its founder, former Philippine ambassador to Singapore Joseph Yap, drew inspiration from 2017 Ramon Magsaysay awardee Tony Tay, whose Willing Hearts foundation has been producing meals for the homeless in Singapore. 

Yap thought of replicating Tay’s program in the Philippines. When he returned to home base after his term as ambassador ended, he conceptualized Loaves x Fish, from the miracle in the Bible in which Jesus fed 5,000 people from five loaves and two fish. 

“We are thankful to Scholars of Sustenance because we are able to multiply food that we serve to different communities,” said JC Perez, Loaves x Fish program manager for social services. 

Loaves x Fish has partnered with some 25 parishes and communities that have regular feeding programs. It provides the kitchen and personnel, and the food to be cooked is provided by Scholars of Sustenance. 

Said Perez: “Every day we start cooking around 6 or 7 a.m., and meals should be picked up for dispatch around 9 or 10 a.m. Since February we have been producing meals and helping around 25 communities in Metro Manila.” Just recently, they have included a diocese in Cabanatuan, Nueva Ecija. “The farthest we served before was in Caloocan,” he said. 

Perez stressed Loaves x Fish’s two-fold mission: to help alleviate hunger and, at the same time, with the support of Scholars of Sustenance, to help preserve the environment. “Here in Filinvest Corporate City, there’s a farm to which we [deposit] all the food scraps or waste, like fruit or vegetable peels, which they use as fertilizer. In turn, some of what they produce are donated to us,” he said.

Volunteer work is the secret to the sustainability of Loaves x Fish. Aside from the organization’s trusted cook, every weekend employees of Filinvest and other companies within the corporate city show up for food preparation. 

Partnerships

Mac Florendo, food rescue supervisor of Scholars of Sustenance, said that because it cannot prevent food wastage by itself, it has partnered with companies, corporations, other NGOs, and even schools where it educates students on the issues concerning food. 

Like Allianz, an insurance company. Chris Cabognason, chief distribution officer of Allianz in the Philippines, said: “You might ask what we are doing in this kind of outreach and charitable work. Our mission in Allianz is to provide a better future, secure the future of our customers. This is us taking it a little bit further. When we talk about ‘future’ we cannot have a future where there are people who are hungry. So, this is really our part and commitment to help end hunger in the Philippines.”

Cabognason said that because of Allianz’s work here, it is able to build alliances with Scholars of Sustenance and Loaves x Fish and do something that mirrors God’s work. “It’s also one way of supporting the United Nations’ Sustainable Goals, one of which is to end hunger,” he said. “What better way to actually help do this than by having our food truck, which is beautifully named KaGat. It’s a food truck that aims to take a bite out of hunger and replace it with hope.”

Cabognason reminded the reporters in the assembly that, despite the efforts of people and organizations, much food is still being wasted—a reality that afflicts hungry Filipinos and a planet battered by environmental degradation.

I did community work in college. Decades later, washing, peeling and slicing vegetables and fruits, toting tubs of cooking ingredients and doing other kitchen chores, felt different knowing that I’m doing it for people I don’t know but who are in need.

When we arrived at Our Lady of the Poor Parish in Western Bicutan, Taguig City, the children and some of their mothers were already waiting for the distribution of the packed lunches. I was tasked to give out disposable wooden spoons, and I made doubly sure that everyone got one.  

I remembered what my mother used to say when I dawdled over my plate and even refused to eat what had been served me: Eat your food and be thankful. There are many people in the world who have nothing to eat.

 It rang true before and still rings true today.

The post The necessity of not wasting food when others are going hungry appeared first on CoverStory.

April is Filipino Food Month by virtue of Presidential Proclamation No. 469, issued in 2018 for the appreciation and preservation of the Filipino culinary heritage. 

“Namit!” (Hiligaynon word for “yummy”) began as a way for Iloilo to celebrate its food culture and offer the tastes and aromas of its traditional cuisine to locals and visitors alike. Food tourism is robust in the province; foodies devote entire trips to exploring the towns not only for their historical and natural attractions but also, and especially, for their culinary delights. 

Now on its fourth year, “Namit!” will be held on April 22-24 at SM City’s North Point wing fronting Pan de Manila in Iloilo City.

The family-friendly event features a cooking contest and daily cooking demonstrations of local dishes to celebrate each town as well as the unique legacies of the families who prepared them. Visitors may watch a cooking demonstration or take a class and enhance their kitchen skills. They may be introduced to new ingredients, and novel ways to prepare them. 

They must come with a hearty appetite and an expectation of new recipes that they will be excited to try later.

This year, the event will highlight the culinary traditions of Balasan: ginat-an nga palaypay, tambalang nga dahon sang abalong, and adobo nga puyoy (April 22, 1:30 p.m.); of Calinog: pako-pako alad, tinuom nga lagut-lagut, and linabugan nga Bisaya nga manok (April 23, 1:30 p.m.); and of Lambunao: tinagbakan nga Bisaya nga manok, and the cooking contest that will highlight apan-apan and turon (April 24, 1:30 p.m.).

Food is a distinguishing element of Iloilo culture. It is a mix of tangible and intangible elements that contribute to the cultural values of the Ilonggo people.

“Namit! is organized yearly by the Iloilo Provincial Government through the Provincial Culture, Arts, History, and Tourism Office in partnership with the Department of Tourism Region VI, and SM City Iloilo.

Bombette Golez Marin is the provincial tourism officer of Iloilo.

The post ‘Namit!’ highlights the tastes and aromas of Iloilo food appeared first on CoverStory.

The event was announced online a few days earlier and shared by over 100 within hours. It was pegged to run from Holy Thursday to Black Saturday, but organizers decided to hold it on the day Christ was nailed to a cross and died.

The security guard at Don Antonio Heights advised me to take the long way around to get to the venue, remarking on the motor traffic quickly a-building. 

Clearly an independent effort, Our Little Gaza Kitchen had not anticipated the huge turnout and hired no additional hands. It was scheduled at 4-6 p.m.; I arrived just a little past 5. A friend messaged me that she had to leave her father for errands at the food line that was already snaking through the narrow and poorly ventilated compound mostly made of concrete and painted a dull yellow. 

Laughing children ran around waving balloons and plastic bags, shouting at each other in a mix of English, Filipino and Arabic. Perhaps they were excited by the multitude suddenly gathering in their compound on that sweltering March afternoon. They imitated the adults selling food inside: “Twenty pesos, mango juice! One fifty, chicken biryani! Masarap! Masarap (Delicious)!”

Nords Maguindanao, a bearded man in a white shirt and the event manager from the Moro-Palestinian Cooperation Team, tried to keep the crowd traffic in check, telling us that we could skip the line if we wanted to try the desserts first. He said the biryani had run out and a fresh batch was still being cooked. 

Free dates were offered to those waiting for the food replenishments.

To practice Iftar

Later I asked Nords how the event came about. He said it was more than a means to make money for rebuilding their lives. For them, it was to practice Iftar in the middle of the Islamic holy month of Ramadan: breaking their fast by giving charity to those who are fasting. At the same time, it was to help Palestinian families forced to flee Israel’s ongoing strikes on Gaza. 

Wishing to pry further, I walked around the venue and found Gabes Torres, one of the contact persons mentioned in the online posters. She said the idea for the event arose when she and her friends were celebrating her birthday. Back then A Taste of Gaza, a small kitchen run by Palestinian refugees in Quezon City, had already been cooking and selling food, but Gabes and her friends thought more interaction with a wider public was needed.  

So they got the word out and raised the funds to start a bigger kitchen. The Palestinian Filipino mothers organized large-scale cookouts. 

One mother recalled that when they arrived in the Philippines—“Nung umuwi kami rito”—“we found it a bit difficult to look for the spices that we cooked with in Gaza.”

“Until, Alhamdulillah (Praise be to God), we encountered Shopee,” she said. 

I asked what adjustments they have had to make in cooking Palestinian dishes for Filipinos. She said it was mostly that Filipinos do not cook with as many spices as she and the others did in Gaza. 

“My favorite dish is mandi, which is smoke-flavored rice with either chicken or beef. My mother-in-law taught me that dish,” she said.

To fly back home

This was all jarring to me, but in a good way. In the past six months, we have been flooded with images of shattered lives, destroyed homes, and dead children in Palestine. There was not a single image of Palestinians celebrating their birthdays, ordering from Shopee, cooking for big crowds, or even just enjoying a meal.

Nords told me that if peace ever comes to Palestine, the refugees in Quezon City would want to fly back to their home. (Surprisingly, a representative of the Department of Foreign Affairs has supposedly expressed to them that the Philippine government is willing to support their repatriation.)  

Many of Our Little Gaza Kitchen’s cooks are Filipino women married to Palestinian men who came to the Philippines in the ’80s and ’90s to study. The women lived different lives in Gaza; cooking 20 meals per order is not their default expertise. It surprised them that so many Filipinos, especially non-Muslims, came to Our Little Gaza Kitchen that afternoon.

“We hope that Filipinos will get to know us and like us. Maybe we can put up more branches or pop-ups like Gaza Kitchen,” the Palestinian Filipino mother told me. “Inshallah (If Allah wills it), this would be a way for us to start anew here. Kasi, sa totoo lang po, wala na po kaming babalikan (To be honest, there’s nothing for us to go back to there).” 

The reflections of Fr. Bong Tupino for Maundy Thursday and Fr. Jomari Aragones for Good Friday centered on feet—our service to others through Christ’s washing of feet and our commitment to struggle with others, using our feet to walk and to show up for our different causes. 

When I was writing this on Easter Sunday, with the news tuned to Al Jazeera, the reports were about protesters in London calling for an end to Israel’s attacks on Gaza and protesters in Tel Aviv condemning Netanyahu for his failure to bring the Israeli hostages home; about the oldest Catholic communities celebrating Masses in a starved and darkened Palestine; and about 17 more added to the dead in Israel’s genocide in Gaza. 

Some say that there is no genocide, that there are many complexities to this war, and that we all have our own interests in it, in one way or another. But Our Little Gaza Kitchen was something that would not have even materialized had the world been fair. There is little to argue about when someone who lost their home to foreign occupation serves you food and tells you that maybe she could keep doing it until they find home again.

For orders and other news about pop-up Palestinian kitchens, follow A Taste of Gaza–Palestinian Food in Quezon City on Facebook. 

DLS Pineda is a lecturer at the University of the Philippines Diliman and the secretary general of the Human Rights and People Empowerment Center. He plays bass and rides a bike to work most of the time.

Read more: End Israeli apartheid in the West Bank and Gaza, and free Palestine

The post Solidarity is also served at Palestinian Filipino food line appeared first on CoverStory.