lunch Date with history
One of the things that cemented my decision to become a chef was how much I loved food. I loved every aspect of it, from harvest to butchery, from cooking to eating — I was all in. Most of all, I loved that the best kinds of food came with equally delicious stories. Now, my love for stories makes me a tsismoso (a curious busybody), and that’s pretty much how I ended up doing food shows on television.
Years ago, in one of those blessed instances where I traveled to eat and film a show, I found myself in the ancestral home of Emilio Aguinaldo, having lunch with food historian Ige Ramos and Aguinaldo’s great grandson, Angelo. As I sat in awe of this singular opportunity, I also marveled at the spread before us. On the table were some of General Aguinaldo’s favorites like Pancit Henoy, Adobo sa Dilaw and steamed white chicken with asparagus, but my curiosity was piqued by a most unusual pair. Beside each other on the corner of the table were steamed sweet potato and canned butter.
Turns out, this combination was one that Aguinaldo turned to often if he needed nutrition on the go. Riding north to avoid capture from the enemy meant he needed to bring things that not only could be prepared and eaten quickly, but also could last long in storage. After hearing this deliciously curious story, we then moved on to discuss the other dishes.
Pancit Henoy (named after the Heneral) is the pancit canton we know, but with calves’ liver (one of the general’s favorites) and the sauce thickened with crushed glutinous rice (Cavite being a rice-producing province). The adobo, meanwhile, became a favorite since it was Aguinaldo’s wife’s recipe from her hometown of Batangas. The steamed white chicken, which I helped prepare with Angelo’s help, had ginger and lemongrass (as Aguinaldo employed Negrenses to cook for him) and was served with white asparagus (bottled/canned from the US, which was luxurious during that time).
That meal remains one of my most memorable meals for many reasons that include the delicious food, the lovely company, but also the ensuing theories and stories that came with it.
Hearing stories of Aguinaldo’s eating habits while escaping to the north or his decision to hire Negrenses to cook (apparently this was a security-related move) gave me a whole new perspective on him. I had always seen him as a mighty president or general, but tasting some of the food he ate and hearing their stories made me see him as human, too. Like me, he was just a gourmand and a guy with a job to do; it just so happened that his job