In a country of islands, there is still so much for Filipinos to learn about one another. Everything from the way of life, celebrations, lingua franca, and local cuisine, the Filipino people are one and different altogether.
Detached by most standards, the Muslims of Mindanao are a definite minority in this country. Having been raised in the still war-torn city of Marawi, the earlier part of my youth centered on religious tradition and local culture. I recall the city once full of life: the hymns of the call to prayer echoing to the ends of every street, the piaparan dishes (those cooked with the meat of grated coconut) tempting potential diners, and the overlooking view of Lake Lanao stunning locals and visitors alike.
For the Maranao, their palate represents a proverbial love for spicy cuisine. By and large, this is owed to their frequent exposure to the sili ingredient common to their cooking. But although not every Maranao has a high tolerance for spiciness, the general idea is that most do. An answer to this inclination may lie in the overpowering quality of chili pepper, which effectively counters the cold and rainy climate of Lanao del Sur.
During a stay in neighboring Iligan City, the place I stayed in served one of the popular silog meals: the tosilog consisting of chicken tocino with fried egg and a cup of rice — typical Filipino breakfast for some. With its appetizing reddish coloring, someone who knows tocino by name only might expect a strong peppery flavor, maybe spicy, as a Maranao would prefer it. However, those expectations are subverted once realizing its sweetness.
A Maranao would find sweetness strange in a nondessert dish. The presence of sugar goes against years of acquired taste nurtured by Lanao cooking. For tocino, and all other sweet-blend dishes, one might leave the plate unfinished.
Most reactions to this taste, however, could be more optimistic considering the Filipino inclination to sweet-tasting food; often subtle and, in some cases, emphasized as in the tocino. As such, it would not be surprising to find a hint of sweetness in some of your favorite Filipino dishes that the late food critic Doreen Fernandez described as manamis-namis.
Even for dishes derived from Spain and Mexico during the colonial period, Filipinos have always found a way to characterize native, and even imported cuisine, with a particular sweetness, especially with the tamales. Even Jollibee, the country’s homegrown fast-food chain, is identified with the sweet-tasting spaghetti, making foreigners generalize Filipino cuisine as sweet.
So why all that sugar? The country belongs to a region with an abundance of sugar cane, effectively making the Philippines a major sugar exporter back in the colonial days. Rightly so, the Filipino cannot be blamed for utilizing those resources. And although some local dishes may come from colonial influences, the presence of the manamis-namis is certainly Filipino creativity at work.
Then again, not all creativity is well appreciated. The sweetness in Maranao cuisine, for example, is rarely what comes to mind when we talk about taste. As commonly described by those fortunate to try the cuisine, it is the spiciness that stands out — the thing that gives its dishes that hot sensation and peppery flavor that slightly lingers in the mouth after a hearty meal.
A young Marano would grow a fondness for this spicy cuisine. It is understandable therefore that Maranao-run restaurants, including those found in Quiapo, cannot be called Maranao without a certain spiciness to their dishes. Their very own palapa attests — a condiment integral to Maranao meals, made essentially by mixing white scallion, ginger, and luya tidk (a type of chili known as bird’s eye chili). Such being the case, two ingredients distinguish Maranao cuisine. In the same way, vinegar is indispensable in adobo or kinilaw, a Maranao dish is incomplete without papar (grated coconut meat), and of course, luya tidk.
Papar provides texture and enhances the flavor of a dish, while luya tidk is simply essential. In fact, hearing the words “kenaba tanto a maloia,” meaning the dish lacks that kick, could be taken as a subtle tone of disapproval. Turmeric, another important ingredient, brings the bright yellow coloring usually observed in Maranao cuisine. In reality, Filipino cuisine varies by region: Ilocos has its bitter-tasting cuisine, while Bicol is another province obsessed with the anghang quality.
If anything, Filipino cuisine tells us that a good blend of tastes achieves an interesting combination. That said, one should be open to understanding local cuisine to truly appreciate it.
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Yasser Mangata Dagalangit, 22, is a graduating college student. He was raised in the city of Marawi but has since moved to Manila.