Food-tripping in Bacolod
For a long weekend bookended by holidays commemorating our heroes, my family and I jetted off to the City of Smiles. Thanks to its centuries-old sugar industry, Bacolod goes by another name, the “Sugar Bowl of the Philippines,” which is just another way of saying that it was a terrible idea to schedule my blood tests right after the trip.
I’ve been on intermittent fasting for almost two years, walking six to eight kilometers daily just to keep my weight and sugar in check. That all went out the window in Bacolod because of my darn sweet tooth, plus about 30 other teeth for nearly everything else.
Julia Child has a book called People Who Love to Eat Are Always the Best People. It’s an interesting declaration, until you realize she wasn’t talking about people on IF who salivate at the first whiff of chicken inasal and batchoy.
From the airport, we went straight to Sir & Ma’am, so-called because it’s operated by former teachers. Their TV loops a video of Erwan Heussaff enjoying food from the same menu where we got morcon, an eggy meat roll; rellenong bangus, or stuffed milkfish; creamy ensaladang langka with coconut milk; and beans with pork, complemented by a serving of lechon kawali and sinigang na baboy (which makes use of the local sour fruit batwan in lieu of sampaloc or tamarind). Ice-cold sugar cane juice proved more refreshing than soda on that humid day.
That first satisfying meal signaled the beginning of our food-tripping in Bacolod, which would never be complete without inasal. For this, we chose Aida’s Chicken Inasal over Manokan Country (which has been relocated to SM Bacolod).
At the entrance of Aida’s, guests are invited in by a yellow chicken that looks like Big Bird’s gym rat cousin. Once shown to our seats, we ordered a large platter of grilled pork, chicken, liver, gizzard, skin, heart, and tail (okay, butt), java rice, chicken oil, and pitchers of cucumber juice. With a single-minded focus that would make a competitive eater proud, our group demolished it in under 20 minutes. Honest.
Next on our must-try list was batchoy. At Bar 21, we had to wait a bit before we could enjoy their signature OG noodles in flavorful broth, with pork strips and offal, and topped with raw egg and a generous sprinkle of chicharon (pork cracklings). One bowl simply did not suffice.
For my birthday, our gracious hosts picked Luk Foo, where we shamelessly worked through a lineup of Chinese favorites: spinach soup, S&P spareribs, lemon chicken, birthday noodles, cold prawn salad, Peking duck two ways, pata tim, and their signature fried rice. Shared plates meant I could pretend moderation while actually eating more.
And more eating we did at Lanai by FreshStart Organic. Its farm-to-table selection is pure Negros pride: labuyo blue crab salad, chicken skin nachos, humba, and cansi (which we also tried at Eron’s Cansi House on a rainy evening). Mixed local spirits with foraged herbs, all courtesy of a “liquid chef,” were unique, exotic, and dangerously intoxicating. Even the dessert was delightfully interesting: Tsokolate Negrense, a hot cocoa drink topped with asin tibuók, and salted muscovado piaya ice cream. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Burning off all those calories meant obligatory jaunts to tourist haunts like the Lacson Ruins and Silay’s Heritage District. At one of the old homes still standing, it is customary to knock on the door (locals call it katok-katok or knock-knock) to gain access to Lola Emma Lacson’s famed empanadas—flaky, thin crust, and flavorful filling, fried to perfection—and pili squares, which were buttery and chewy, with a thin, crispy crust, every bar absolutely divine.
A quick stop at the venerable El Ideal Bakery was too quick, in my book. Yet, aside from their famed ensaimada and mamon, I found one of my favorites standing out for being so different from what I usually buy in Manila—pacencia. If you have the patience (pun very much intended) to travel all the way to Silay, you shouldn’t miss this Filipino cookie made with beaten egg whites (meringue), flour, and a hint of calamansi.
Then came Kusinata, perched in “Little Baguio” (Don Salvador Benedicto), a 45-minute drive from Bacolod City. Feeling more like Tagaytay with a view of Matan-og Falls instead of Taal Volcano, Kusinata—a portmanteau of kusina (kitchen) and Ata (Bacolod’s indigenous people, who, incidentally, comprised the service crew)—whipped up local favorites like KBL (kadios, baboy, langka); laswa lasagna (using vegetables); and paco-paco salad (wild fern tops, dressed just right, topped with salted egg, anchovy-like balingon, or crispy pork belly).
Every diabetic's nightmare
Bacolod’s crown jewel, of course, is Bongbong’s. Our tour of the place consisted of a sprinkle of history (how it began 40 years ago and grew to be one of Bacolod’s greatest exports) and a dash of piaya making. It’s the perfect place to grab that pasalubong (because Bongbong’s is strictly local).
For an area smaller than Quezon City, Bacolod has quite a number of coffee shops and bakeshops. There’s Ann Co Cakes, notable not only for its cakes but also the paintings by Ann’s husband, Charlie Co, a renowned local artist. I found myself mesmerized at what seemed like a homage to Dali, which was fitting after finishing a dizzying cupful of banoffee with my flat white coffee.
Another local favorite, Buttery (not to be confused with Buttery & Co.), is known for its rich, well, buttery goodness. Though spoilt for choice, tres leches got our collective nod. We also grabbed slices of dark chocolate mousse, ube cheesecake, galletas de leche, dalgona cake, lemon chill, and pistachio cream for good measure. On our flight home, a number of passengers were carrying boxes of Bongbong’s and Merzci goodies, both of which were available in the airport.
I spotted one or two different boxes bearing the Calea brand. As much as I wanted to bring home two of their bestsellers—frozen mud pie and Black Sambo, a rich and decadent jelly mix, topped with chocolate syrup—we already had an entire luggage devoted to pasalubongs.
Yes, my IF took a hit, and I decided to defer my medical exams, but in Bacolod, you’ll always find a reason to ignore the calories and instead count the sweet memories. After all, as chef Remy declared in Ratatouille: “If you are what you eat, then I only want to eat the good stuff.”
In Bacolod, it’s all good stuff.
