Mindoro

I watched Lola Teresa throw away her grandmother’s recipe for adobong manok. Not literally. She didn’t burn the paper or tear it up; she just ignored it completely while making Sunday lunch for her family in Calapan. She eyeballed the vinegar, dumped in soy sauce until it “looked right,” and added three times the garlic her […]

I met Mang Danilo on a humid Tuesday morning in a small barangay outside Calapan. He was sitting on a weathered wooden bench, sorting through dried bamboo strips with the kind of precision that only decades of practice can produce. When I asked what he was making, he smiled and said something I’ll never forget.

I sat across from Mang Tomas in his bamboo house perched on stilts above the water in Puerto Galera. His fishing net hung from the rafters, still damp from the morning catch. On the table between us sat two bowls of Lucky Me instant noodles, the cheap chicken flavor that costs eight pesos at the

Meet Jessa Villanueva, a Mindoro-raised college student scrolling through Instagram food influencers, feeling the gap between viral “unusual” dishes and her childhood staple, simple, plain, often scoffed at by elders. Jessa sat in her Manila dorm room last September, phone glowing in the dark, scrolling through TikTok food reviews. She paused on a video: some

I watched a German tourist photograph a Mangyan woman in her traditional beaded necklace and handwoven skirt outside Calapan last year. He crouched, adjusted his lens three times, and never once asked her name. When he walked away, she turned to her daughter and switched immediately into shorts and a faded T-shirt she’d been carrying