Category Archives: Filipino Cuisine
Alugbati…Malabar Spinach
… or the vine spinach
The cook and I continuously had our little disagreements. While I was craving for locally sourced food, she wanted to fry meat which I have a dislike of. Frying in the Philippines is so common but I wanted to eat the food I missed.
So many times I went to the market myself and asked for utan bisaya…the real comfort food I knew while growing up in the Philippines. It’s loosely translated as a soup with okra, squash, gabi (taro), malonggay (horse radish tree leaves) and alubagti. What comes with it can be dried fish or grilled fish.
Food Philippines
Halo halo… literally means “to mix”…. glass is filled with sweetcorn, boiled beans, nata de coco, tapioca , topped with shaved ice and evaporated milk, served with ice cream , in this photo with UBE ice cream (taro) and serve on baby coconut… this dessert is also popular in other Asian country called cendol, in Indonesia and Thailand, ais kacang in Malaysia.
Buko (young coconut)… the juice is so refreshing, the meat inside is still forming thus opaque, soft and delicate.
Guso… this seaweed is eaten as salad, almost as a form of ceviche, this is blanch first before vinegar, onions and tomatoes are added.
Lukot lukot… sea cucumber poo yes….well they are from sea cucumber and left on the rocks or seabed. They look like noodles and are eaten as salad or added to some soup.
Julienned vegetables.. behind the photo is a mountain of fresh egg noodles, make life easier you can buy your pre cut veggies (carrots, cabbages, celery) with your noodles.
Wistful Reminiscences
An old student of my mother has left me a message… heard you were home but how come I did not see you?
It was hard to explain why I did not tell everyone I was coming home. I grew up in such a small town where everybody knew each other. I wanted to remain silent about my trip so I could absorb the feeling of being back “home…”
I do not call it home anymore, but Naga, Cebu is always my hometown. Having left the place in 1984 and visited only twice in which the last was 10 years ago, I finally decided to visit the place after all the years of absence.
Although my paternal grandfather family is not from here, my paternal grandmother (de Gracia) and both of my mother’s(Alfar/Quimbo) family belong in this town. I belong in this place, this where my roots are from…

Naga at dawn taken at Oceanside, two days before I left.
This is the place where my childhood memories belong, the sea and its hills. The Sunday markets when farmers bring their harvests to the town. The streets I know very well where I know everyone’s homes and the place I spent countless days playing in the outdoors.
Summer days we would just open the back gate of our property and walked amongst the corn field and one field planted with peanuts while we walked in a single file all heading to the beach.
I could still hear the breeze ruffling the palms of the coconut trees as we could smell the breeze of the ocean.
Full moons were spent playing hide and seek with all the neighbourhood kids. Weekends running around the property playing catch me , climbing up the tamarind and avocado trees.
Writing this piece now I can just smell my grandmother’s gardenias, our neighbour’s cooking and sweet smell of fruit trees around our house.
I visited the town’s church, St. Francis de Assisi built in 1893 with corals and limestone.
The very church where my parents were married ,my sister and I were christened and as my sister says where every Sunday we would hear mass and she would be yawning waiting for it to finish so we could get our Sunday treat at the market to eat “shakoy”,similar to donuts but twisted and fried. Banana cues ( those wonderful fried bananas with caramelised sugar)..
Then head to my great uncle’s place for lunch where our aunts and uncles (the Bautistas) would treat us again with ice creams and other yummy food like puto or biko (sticky rice one cooked with ginger , the latter with brown sugar yet both with coconut milk) prepared by our great aunt Tia Naty.
Small town life what a wonderful thing indeed…
Then by the age of 12 I was accepted in one of the prestigious schools in the city. Long way back then 25 kilometres one way, was a long and tiring trip for someone so young.
I was placed in the care of my mother’s ex students who were all in the university thus started a boarding house life in which I could not grasp the city life. I was simply suffocated, I missed the town…

old classmates, childhood friends…
Who would have thought that two years later of studying in the city, with my sister joining me in the same school, my mother decided we all had enough with traveling and rented a house for us… and the town life slowly faded away and became a weekend place..
And who would have thought a year later we would leave in exile?
Leave everything and everyone behind.
So indeed I went back, I spent countless hours walking from one end of the town to another. Talking to people along the way who recognised me and simply recorded the beat of the town through my eyes…
More photos … click here.
comforts of home…cassava macapuno cake

Home is where my kitchen is, where I can create what ever I want to try. The kitchen where I would spend hours pouring into cookbooks, or sitting with close friends having a pot of tea and of course some dessert.
I was home for 3 days, two weeks ago. While I was still in London I called my friend in Athens what to shop and asked her if we can make a cassava cake (is it a pie or a cake?)
I was hoping we could do it together but when I opened my door, the aroma of the cake just made me drop my bags. I ran to the kitchen and there inside my oven a dish cassava and macapuno cake was in the process of baking.
Years back this was a dream, able to bake Filipino desserts using cassava and macapuno. The excitement way back then was when someone arrives from the Philippines and bring “illicit food” tucked nicely inside the luggage. However, the Asian stores in Athens are increasing and now able to stock fruits and vegetables, the Greeks never ever heard before.
This recipe is not mine but from a friend who hails from Bacolod. Sadly this time due to short notice she could not drop by at my place to cook for me. Do I sound so spoiled?
When I go back to Athens, I normally would ask her for some food I crave for and I do love watching her peel, chop, cook and I set the table and we catch up with our lives.

Since Aida had other agenda, it was Bonnie a dear friend who took care of me when I was not well, did all the work. I only tested when it was ready to take the dish out of the oven.
Aida recipe calls for 2 jars of macapuno but I love to tweak recipes to suit my taste. I think by adding 2 jars ,the macapuno overwhelms the cassava. So I had asked Bonnie to add just one.
This recipe is so easy to follow.
1 kl cassava fresh and grated
1 tin condensed milk
1 tin coconut milk
1 bottle of macapuno strings
Mix it all.
Bake in a preheated oven 180C for an hr.
Macapuno is a variety of Philippine coconut palm and the meat inside is like a jelly.
The day after I visited a Greek Egyptian friend together with her husband who hails from Scotland and another dear friend visiting from Sweden, I brought this dessert over. They all asked me what’s a cassava?
I tried to explain that its called yuca etc but still they could not picture it, next time I visit them I will just bring a cassava, easier to explain using a visual aid isn’t it.
But they all enjoyed it.

Few days in Athens is not complete without sitting down in one of the cafes for my Greek coffee…. This time I did not have the chance to take photos of the market and eat a lot of Greek food, but this cassava cake made my stay comforting.
saging pinaypay, a childhood favourite

“Your eating habit is not Filipino anymore!!”… Thats what my Filipina (rather Cebuana) crew mate had said after over a month of working and living together.
Marica and I met in Antibes, France last year. I was walking near the port, when she tapped my shoulder and asked if I was from the Philippines. I said yes, from Cebu. She turned out to be Cebuana too.
We barely got to know each other, her yacht left for Greece and Turkey and we went to Italy and Croatia. I saw her few more times in Antibes towards the end of the season last year as she was getting off in Spain before heading back to the Philippines.
Little did I know then I would be in Florida in the next few weeks.The very day we arrived from the Bahamas and entered the yard at West Palm Beach, there she was waving at me…. screaming at the top of her voice…”Shalimarrrrrrrrrrrr”
Pinch , pinch was I day dreaming? We just did 25 hours passage from Exumas and so exhausted after 5 weeks trip. Is that really Marica? Oh boy, it was her and she actually had seen me in Nassau.
To make the story short, I flew out to UK for a short break, when I came back, she and my Captain has just started going out. Thats how she has become of our crew and been feeding me Filipino food ever since then.
Perhaps even help me gain few kilos with our day to day kitchen escapades.
So on one dreary wet afternoon while we were in West Palm, I asked her what she was going to do with the plantain she bought. I made ” lambing” to her if she could make me SAGING PINAYPAY.
Lambing in our language literally translates to show affection and tenderness.
She laughed and gave me a hug…. saging pinaypay… is one of the easiest Filipino food to do. She laughed the way I asked to do for me and yes with lots of affection, she sweetly made me some
Saging (banana) pinaypay (to fan out.. paypay is fan). You slice the bananas thinly, spread it out to form a fan, dip in a batter and fry. Just before serving, sprinkle it with sugar.
I was almost teary eyed… when Rob our engineer came in and asked what’s that?
Dreamily, I replied:
A childhood favourite…….
Dinuguan: Pork Blood Stew LP#9

Pabumum our host for the Lasang Pinoy 9th edition had chosen the theme Lamang-loob: Odd Cuts and Guts.
In Tagalog, laman [la’man] translates to “contents,” and loob [lo’ob] means inside–I want to feature the contents inside of an animal, or what is commonly referred to as offal. Using the “waste” parts of a butchered animal has always been part of the human diet. Growing up in the Philippines, our parents told us that offal protected us from being ill and whenever my non-Filipino friends travel back home with me, my relatives tell them that offal’s good for “many children.”
Oh well how can I miss this event but before I go on I just hope you understand my predicament of not having my own internet connection… not yet.
I have no choice at the moment but to slowly withdraw from this blogging sphere when this Lasang Pinoy is on its 9the edition came up.
Before we go on with our theme this month, let me brief you all my whereabouts. I arrived here in Antibes, France last March 28th due to the fact I was asked to show up in San Remo, Italy for an interview and trial work.
How you feel when going for an interview and it just did not feel so right?
The very same day I came back to France after hours of spending time between train stations (that time there was a daily strike here), I was called to drop by to the port and see a another boat.

my view….. thats where i “live” for the time being Port Vauban, Antibes.
Well the 2 weeks trial turned out to be a job offer. One thing I asked from the boss is an internet connection. Living and working aboard is really not so easy for some of you to comprehend.
To have a WiFi, would mean paying a land line, the boat could not easily just go to French telecom, we have to do it with the port. So at this moment the captain is finding the best option for us.
At the mean time I walk over half an hour to the internet café where some keyboards are in French and in Arabic. After days of using the keyboard the fingers are now used to the positioning of the French keyboard that when I use my laptop I mess it all up.
Is it worth my 3€ an hour, tolerating a smoking internet café for this Lasang Pinoy?
The answer is yes. It’s all worth it.
Why? Because as most of you know I find this monthly event a valuable lesson to me.
A learning process of my culture and getting to know more of the country of my birth through food.
Since I have lived in many places, not all countries sell same kind of offal one Filipino would wish be available in the market.
In UK since I was in the countryside I knew the butcher I could literally get hold of most things I wanted.
In Norway ox tail is available but hard to get fresh liver.
In Athens, the influence of the Filipinos is very strong. At the wet market you can now get head, intestines, blood but not tail.
Here in France its almost available but I just do not know the sources yet.
I grew up in a small town that my grandmother had her own pigs, chickens, ducks, geese, goats (which my mother hated so much because they ate our plants) and some pigeons. What I remember most is when one of us celebrated a birthday, she would offer a chicken or duck. This would mean we would do slaughtering and having all parts of the meat including offal, heart, liver, intestines and blood. My favourite way back then was chicken soup with the blood included.
So I do not really go squeamish when it comes to offal. Other than I grew up eating it, I have learned to clean them. Though I have not cooked much using these parts.
I wanted to cook something I have never done… dinuguan, a pork blood stew.
If I were in Athens now I would have gone to the market and ordered blood, bought the heart, liver and my meat to cook this dinuguan. I have never ever made my own.
There are two Filipina ladies in Athens both in their 70s now that make the kind of dinuguan I love. Slightly thick, rich and a bit spicy. Whenever I go back home I would ask one of them to cook this for me. Had I been home in Athens, I would have bothered one of them to teach me cook this.

boudin noir or blood sausage which you can buy per kilo.
Since am in France for the time being I had to reach out for another friend. Last year when I was in Cannes another friend showed me how she did hers. She used boudin noir (blood sausage) which she mixed her meat with.
I wanted something more traditional. When I met up my friend yesterday I had told him if we could find blood for a more authentic dinuguan but he explained to me that some blood they sell here smells.
I nearly wanted to change my plan to kare kare, ox tail with tripe cooked with peanut butter.
But as you see I really could not demand. I don’t even have my own kitchen, let alone know the shops that sell offal.
So here is what I call a bastardized or rather a frenchified dinuguan using boudin noir.

Ingredients
So let me explain to you how this bastardized dinuguan made here in Antibes. Apparently this is how most Filipinos here in South of France cook their own version.
Easy isn’t it ?
But I will do and cook the proper way of dinuguan when I get back to Athens.
And speaking of offal I am just lucky that the Swiss cheese believes nothing should be wasted with his motto from snout to tail he certainly eats this dinuguan.
Or perhaps when I visit the Philippines again, I would have to ask to slaughter a pig for a lechon then cook the offal, what ever laman loob I can get hold of.
As for my dinuguan, I took my share to the boat. The rest of the crew were away, so I had a leisurely lunch on my own. Dinuguan is served best with hot steaming rice perhaps with good company.
Dirty Ice Cream
Mamang Sorbetero



I took these series of shots on the day the Greeks celebrated the beginning of the Lent.
Remember your childhood days rushing to the streets upon hearing the ice cream bell of a Mamang Sorbetero. The Sorbetero is a vendor who sells sorbetes ice cream, the streets. He goes around pushing a cart with colorful designs that attract the attention of customers. Inside his cart are three cylinders designed to keep the three variations of ice cream fresh and cold.
“Dirty ice cream” its not only in the Philippines but in Athens too.
I am not here in France for holidays but for my work and I am using public internet at 3euro an hour. Hopefully we should get our wireless connection at work soon.
Lasang Pinoy 8 Kusinang Bulilit part 2

I have learnt many about cooking. A friend of my mum named Shalimar has taught me cooking, baking etc. The first time that I try to bake was chocolate fudge, it wasn’t really difficult for me to bake because it was very easy and it has little ingredients on it. But it was really fantastic, baking something because you can learn many things. After baking the chocolate fudge, Shalimar took some pictures.
Menudo ~ Lasang Pinoy # 8

When I was young, cooking was an obligation. There were times when I just hated it.
I was told off a few many times for either over cooking or undercooking the rice.
Those were the times when rice cooker were unheard of.
We had 2 kitchens; one inside with gas, very practical when heaven opened up and it rained non stop, the other one like most houses in the Philippines was the outdoor. It was built on a shed and underneath it wood for cooking was piled up.

Part of my household obligation of course was to collect wood. Our house is surrounded (it is IS: the house still exists) with coconuts. Once a palm branch fell we would chop them and build them into square like tower for drying.
I do have happy memories of my mother and myself in the kitchen together.
Normally on Sundays when we came back from the market, I would eagerly help.
Continue reading
…tender juicy tasty

Ok Filipino readers of this page…can you still remember the tune of the advert of Purefoods hotdogs?
Well, when I picked up those mangoes on my previous post, the lady was unpacking the rest of the boxes that arrived from Manila.
Goodness, purefoods hotdogs!!!
OK, I do not buy most of the imported products from Philippines knowing for the fact it has travelled thousand miles
and most food has my worst enemy… COLOURINGS!
But out of the feeling that “wow that was only a treat when I was growing up in the Philippines” I bought a pack.
Its 5€ a kilo.
When I opened the casings and sliced them I had red dye all over my hands
Nah may it be laden with chemicals, I had my share of walk down memory lane!



























