TRENDING: Hapag's version of La Paz Batchoy with small serving, sourdough puto sparks debate
A restaurant in Makati sparked a debate about its version of La Paz Batchoy for its significantly smaller serving and the sourdough puto it comes with.
In a Facebook post on Dec. 16, Hapag noted that its Western Visayas menu begins with the crowd favorite La Paz Batchoy, which originated from Iloilo.
The restaurant noted that they tried the dish in its birthplace, the La Paz Public Market, and various hole-in-the-walls across neighboring districts.
"Each one had its own charm," they said, "but the common thread was always the flavorful broth, which seemed to grow deeper and more satisfying with every bite."
Hapag then noted that their goal was "to recreate that richness and pack it into a bowl half the size—encapsulating the best moments of a Batchoy in just a few spoonfuls."
"While locals traditionally pair batchoy with Mountain Dew and puto, ours is served with sourdough puto, perfect for dipping into the broth after the noodles are finished," they added.
Mixed reactions from social media users, food experts
Hapag's post showing their take on batchoy received mixed reactions from social media users.
Scotch Celestial, an owner of a local radio, told Hapag not to "insult our delicacy, just to gain more views, shares, and customers!"
"We, Ilonggos, prefer eating batchoy in big bowls full of ingredients, in markets and else where, not in fancy restaurants, served liked this and with expensive prices!" Celestial said.
Another user, meanwhile, said one must not reconstruct tradition as it's called one "for a reason."
"Just cook whatever the heck you want and name it whatever the heck you want, but don't drag traditions.
"Also, 'half the size' is just reaching as batchoy is unli sabaw," the user added. "And saying that 'locals pair it with Mountan Dew' shows your lack of research. No one drinks Mt. Dew in this household."
Some users, meanwhile, came to the defense of Hapag.
Food heritage advocate John Sherwin Felix, who is also behind local food archive Lokalpedia, said he does not agree "with those who claim that you can’t innovate a traditional dish."
"The challenge lies in translating its essence into a new form without losing it. How can it reflect the sensibilities of its place of origin? I believe there is a way—even in a dish designed for a tasting menu," he commented on Hapag's post.
He acknowledged that one "can’t entirely blame people for their reactions" as "their worldviews are shaped by what they are accustomed to." He added, "A stripped-down, minimalist bowl of batchoy is alien to them."
Felix stressed the importance of constructive discussions. "If we feel a certain dish doesn’t align with our sensibilities, we should communicate that constructively. Conversely, if we think we’ve missed the mark with our food preparation, we must take the time to reflect and assess."
'We can always learn, improve, and move forward together. Navigating these complexities, especially in the realm of food, is challenging, as voices and opinions come from diverse places. There are also many social factors to consider. But I truly believe we can meet halfway," he continued.
Food writer Ige Ramos, in a Facebook post, reflected on the issue using French sociologist Pierre Bourdieu's ideas in his book Distinction.
He noted that Bourdieu examines the ways in which class, cultural capital, and social circumstances influence one's tastes and preferences.
"In the case of Batchoy, its variations—from gourmet interpretations to street vendor versions—can represent various social statuses," Ramos said. "While upscale versions may appeal to a more affluent, cosmopolitan audience, the traditional Batchoy, rich in heritage and local ingredients, represents a connection to Negros’s and Iloilo's past."
For Ramos, "I do not think this is problematic."
He noted that food is an "ever-evolving artifact that is never static."
He cited as example Japan's ramen, which can be enjoyed in the street, a restaurant, and even at home via the instant versions.
"Since nothing is pure and authentic anymore, we should not get too hung up in maintaining a pure cuisine. What is authentic anyway?" Ramos said. "Batchoy comes in a variety of forms, throughout the nation, including the Lucky Me version, despite being a staple of Iloilo and Negrense cuisine."
Ramos noted that there may be different reasons for the consumption of batchoy in a fine dining setting, a modest restaurant, or at a convenience store.
"It may provide a sense of belonging and identity within a cultural framework," he said, "whereas others may approach it through the lens of novelty, creativity, and respect for its taste profile."
Ultimately, Ramos said Bordieu's work "emphasizes the connection between cultural practices and social identity." It also "demonstrates how a simple dish can embody complex social meaning and distinctions."
"You have a choice," he said.
Batchoy is known to have come from "bac qui," a Chinese term that translates to shredded meat.
It's believed that it started in 1938, when butcher Federico “Deco” Guillergan Sr. put up his first stall at the La Paz Public Market, where he sold bowls of broth and meat for 20 centavos. Later on, he had customers asking him to add some kind of noodle to the soup. There's another story that dates back to 1945, with Teodorico “Ted” Lepura claiming that he learned the recipe in the early 1930s from a Chinese merchant even before the time of Guillergan for his first stall.
Food aggregation website Taste Atlas, which previously recognized La Paz Batchoy as one of the world's best offal soup dishes, noted that batchoy's ingredients include pork offal, chicken or beef stock, and fresh round egg noodles. It said it's also generously seasoned with shrimp paste and (occasionally) soy sauce, and is usually topped with pork cracklings, fried garlic, and raw egg.
