My mother and grandmother could only stay in the Philippines for ~10 days, so my father and I were left to our own devices after their early departure from Manila. He decided to take me to Tagaytay (tuh-GAI-tai), which is a highland city about an hour south of Manila. Tagaytay sits on a ridge at the edge of Taal Lake, which provides the city with gorgeous views of the volcano-formed island in the center as well as the other smaller islands clustered nearby. Because Tagaytay is at a higher elevation and is nowhere near as urbanized as Manila, it is treasured as an escape from the heat and hustle and bustle of the capital city. Many elite Filipinos own vacation houses or condos in Tagaytay, and I grew to understand why during the overnight stay with my father.

Our adventure started with a zig-zagged, rapidly descending road that sliced down the ridge from Tagaytay to the waters of Taal Lake. After some negotiation on my father’s part, we were led to our banca (a traditional boat outfitted with bamboo riggers) and our boat driver, who cheerfully greeted us and pulled up a plank to help us into the vessel. The next 15 minutes were spent in peaceful silence as our banca glided through the morning mist and skimmed on the water toward the volcano island.

Once we reached shore, we were escorted to a stable where we were assigned our own ponies. Luckily for me, we were also assigned guides that helped steer the ponies onto the correct winding path leading to the volcano’s mouth. As we slowly ascended, we noticed other tourists struggling with the heat, the dust and the steep climb… and the sight of them made me very, very grateful for the hard-working pony I sat upon! When we finally reached the summit, we were greeted by women selling fresh coconut juice for thirsty travelers. And… well, who am I to deny them my business?

The view of the crater lake was impressive, but a bit hazy because of the humidity and the sulfuric gas that was still steaming from underneath the lake. Yes, I did just say sulfuric gas. Taal Volcano is still active, and at certain points along the ride I saw volcanic vents that emitted smoke and the smell of rotten eggs. And unlike the crater lake at Mt. Pinatubo, access is limited to the lip of the volcano because of its current active status. It was a fun ride, but the heat made me grateful for the subsequent boat ride back to shore once we descended.

Unfortunately, the rest of the trip went downhill pretty fast once we returned to Orion–I won’t go into the details other than to say that having the untreated water here by accident is not a vacation for your digestive system. I was bedridden for two days, and so I missed out on the plans that we had made for the rest of the trip. But let’s not talk about the dangers of drinking the water in third-world countries by accident. Instead, let’s talk about how amazing the food in the Philippines is every time I visit!

Filipino food (to me) is like the Soul Food of Asia–packed with flavor and unabashed in its lack of healthier options. Even the dishes that aren’t fried are likely still packed with decadent ingredients like coconut milk, liver, and sugar. There are certainly foods in its repertoire that are less unhealthy than others, but I think that most of the ones that define Filipino cuisine are not going to break ground for being diet-friendly. I come to the Philippines armed with this knowledge and determined to eat with moderation. And yet, I usually leave the Philippines much heavier than when I arrived because I just can’t help myself–the food is too good!

Pork is probably what we’re best known for, and for good reason, as you can see above. With lechon baboy, the whole pig is slowly roasted over a charcoal fire with lower heat over many hours; this allows the skin to crisp evenly on all sides. While being roasted, the skin is basted with sauce to produce the most amazing, savory crunch. There really is nothing I’ve tried in any other cuisine that is equivalent to how damn good lechon baboy tastes when fresh off the spit–especially the skin, accompanied by a chewy layer of fat that melts over your tongue in a wave of umami sensation.

Lechon baboy is usually reserved for special occasions–the one I enjoyed in Orion was for my nephew’s birthday. But what if you’re craving that “this is so delicious I don’t care if I have a heart attack” flavor? Lechon kawali is pork belly that is simmered with flavors such as bay leaves and peppercorn, then deep fried and chopped into bite-sized pieces. (The picture is above the last.) I can feel my arteries hardening every time I eat lechon kawali, but it hurts so good!

Let’s not forget the other iconic pork dish of the Philippines–crispy pata, or deep-fried pork leg/knuckles! Yes, more deep-fried pork. Are you starting to see a trend here? I’ve seen both leg and knuckles used for this dish, but the more traditional meat used is pig knuckles. The knuckles are marinated overnight, then deep-fried and served with a soy-vinegar sauce. The result is tangy, savory and unreservedly delicious.

Or perhaps you’d like something unfried? This pig’s blood stew, or dinaguan, stews pork and pig offals such as tripe in pig’s blood spiced with chili, garlic and vinegar. Waste not, want not–all parts of a pig are delicious! Dinaguan is a popular meryenda or mid-day snack when paired with puto–a steamed rice cake, often topped with cheese or a salted egg. Don’t be off-set by the inclusion of offals in the stew (if you’re not already off-set by the inclusion of blood as a major ingredient!). I ended up gobbling down every piece of tripe by the end of the meal!

The bottom line: Filipinos do pork better than anybody. There, I said it, and I’m willing to stare anyone down that tries to prove me wrong!

Just because we elevate pork to the next level doesn’t mean that we aren’t equally adept at other proteins. Fish is the obvious example, as the Philippines is the largest archipelago in the world. And while each of these island regions has its own specialties, there are some that transcend regions and become staple dishes of the Philippines itself. One of these preparations is adobong pusit, or adobo-style squid. The small to medium-sized squid is cleaned and prepped, then sauteed with garlic, bay leaves, vinegar and soy sauce. As it is cooked, its ink is released, giving adobong pusit its trademark appearance. My mom’s cousin, or my second aunt, makes the best freakin’ adobong pusit I’ve ever eaten which is pictured above… right before I decimated half of the serving bowl!

I’m getting a little long-winded here, but I truly love the food in the Philippines. And even though I live in Southern California–which has the largest Filipino community outside of the Philippines itself–the food never tastes quite as good as it does back in the PI. And whenever I go back, my family is more than willing to reacquaint me with how delicious each specialty dish really is… which usually equates to a much heavier Kris on the return flight.

Family and food–through these two linchpins of my life, I feel like I have a direct connection to my heritage and therefore my culture. I know that at my very core, I am American in my thoughts, my preferences and my sensibilities. But my heart and my stomach are Filipino to the core, and I will always be grateful to my family for raising me this way.

I’ve been traveling quite a bit recently–and even that is probably an understatement. I was in Colorado for the holidays with my family for two weeks, back in LA for another two weeks… and then off on another adventure for the past three weeks! So you’ll have to forgive me for being quite truant in updating this poor site. Two-thirds of this most recent trip was spent in the Philippines with my parents and grandmother. Most of my previous trips to the PI have been for vacation purposes, with a minimal amount of time spent in the province my family hails from. This trip had more practical reasons, and so I spent much more time in our hometown than I have in the past. But that gave me much more perspective and background on my parents and their lives before I came along, as well as more quality time spent with my family in general.

Being the child of parents who leave their home country for the current one is being a child stuck between two cultures. I didn’t understand or I brushed it off when I was younger. But I feel it now, whenever I endure the prolonged silences between myself and other Filipinos. They are too embarrassed to speak in their accented English to me; I, in turn, am too mortified to attempt my elementary Tagalog with them. This is not the case for my family nor my family’s friends in the Philippines–most have traveled to the States at some point or have had excellent English education. But the vast majority of strangers, especially in my home province of Bataan, are a mystery to me.

With that said, I still enjoy the opportunity to visit my ancestral homeland. One of my favorite parts of this particular visit was hearing my parents’ stories about growing up in their hometown of Orion, then driving around the town and seeing those stories come to life. We attended mass at the church where my parents’ families have attended for decades, and a funny story about my father bubbled to the surface. (Apparently ‘making eyes’ at the girls in the church from the courtyard was a thing!) As we were going through the fine china from my mother’s childhood home, we found funny love letters from previous suitors. (And I read them aloud, to her dismay.)

Another highlight of my Philippine trip were the house-calls we made to my family that still lives in Orion. My mom and I referred to it as ‘making mano‘ trips, or paying our respects to our elders around the town. When I was younger, my mom would make these calls on her own while I would slide out of the responsibility and play with my cousins instead. But they are no chore for me now–actually, I enjoy them quite a bit! Family is everything to me, and I jump at the chance to spend more time with them regardless of how many ‘aunts removed’ we are. Regardless of how distant we are in relation, we are all family… which makes my family truly gigantic. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.

So what is it like–returning to my home province–from my American perspective? Well, the streets are narrow and congested with a healthy mix of tricycles, jeepneys, brave (or ignorant) pedestrians, and cars. Tricycles are motorcycles with a covered buggy attached, as seen above. Jeepneys are chrome buses that have been tricked out with garishly-colored designs ranging from names to anime characters to quotes. I mentioned pedestrians because you will often find people walking along the edges of the highways–yes, I said highways. There are lines on the road and signs posted detailing speed limit and various hazards, but these are all treated like suggestions and not laws. In short: I would never drive here. Never. But I am very grateful that my dad is a pro at managing the streets and highways!

What are the people like here? Earnest, friendly and very hard-working. Many of them have OFW’s (Overseas Filipino Workers) in their families that fly to locations all over the globe to support them. The amount of opportunities for people who stay in the province are quite limited depending on your social standing, and the amount that most Filipinos can make overseas easily trumps the domestic pay rate. When they find out you hail from the United States, they can be inquisitive to the point of intrusive! Honestly, I’m just happy to chat with them because most people are too nervous about speaking in English with me.

As I mentioned, I spent most of my time in Orion, Bataan with my family. But we also managed to visit a few interesting places by car! This vertigo-inducing cross is the Mount Samat National Shrine, made in honor of the Filipino and American soldiers that lost their lives during WWII. Yes, you can go to the top of the cross–if you’re willing to stand in a claustrophobic elevator that barely fits 6 grown adults for one heart-stopping minute!

We also took a day trip to Las Casas Filipinas de Acuzar, which is full of faithful reconstructions/rebuildings of Spanish-style Filipino mansions. Once you walked through the stone archway and onto the cobblestone streets, you felt instantly transported to the Spanish occupation of the Philippines in the 19th century. (With the exception of various modern conveniences, such as this motorcycle. Actually, I’m not sure if I was supposed to see this on the grounds or not!)

I think I’ll stop here for now, as I get the feeling this post is getting overly long. Next post: Hello Philippines, Part 2: Electric Boogaloo. Or, you know, just the second half.