From The Philippines With Vinegar: Filipino Food’s Bright Future Abroad

Photo by Michael Harlan Turkell, from “ACID TRIP: Travels in the World of Vinegar” (Abrams)

In the Philippines, there’s a local Tagalog word paksiw that categorizes any food that’s been cooked in vinegar. Everyone adores adobo, the country’s national dish is their most famous culinary export — chicken thighs, pork belly, or even mackerel filets are seared then simmered in vinegar, soy sauce with aromatics: garlic, black peppercorn and bay leaves — but there’s also the more daring dinuguan (a savory meat stew finished with pig’s blood). Lumpia, fan-favorite fried spring roll, utilizes vinegar in a dipping sauce, while balut (fully cooked fertilized egg embryos eaten from the shell), deploys a dash of vinegar as a foil. Although vinegar is not always the dominant flavor in any of these dishes — it is the ultimate underlying bond that brings Filipino food together.

Historically, the Philippines was a port for many travelers, particularly the Chinese immigrants, Spanish colonizers and Portuguese traders. And these influences can be seen in Filipino food. One such influence came in the form of necessary preservation. When boats were asea, it was crucial to find non-refrigerated ways to make foods last—enter vinegar. From kinilaw (marinated seafood, kind of like a ceviche) to dinuguan (a savory meat stew finished with pig’s blood), lumpia (a side sauce for fan-favorite fried spring rolls), and balut (fully cooked fertilized egg embryos eaten from the shell), vinegar was in everything and made Filipino food, well, Filipino food.

Because so much of Filipino cooking involves vinegar, there’s an equally strong vinegar-making game in the country, most  derived from native flora such as coconuts, sugarcane and palm. The most prevalent Filipino brand, Datu Puti, has been the country's go-to condiment since its inception nearly 50 years ago.

Five years ago, in 2019, Carlo Lamagna opened Magna Kusina in Portland, Oregon, who was born in the Philippines, makes seasonal versions of Filipino street foods he grew up eating. He guarantees that 80% of his menu has some sort of vinegar in it. “For adobo, vinegar is the quintessential ingredient. It’s used to brighten up [the dish] without adding extra flavor,” Lamagna notes. His “Wilfredo’s Adobo,” is named for his dad, who taught him how to make it. It’s not as wet/stew-like as most adobo, with a ratio of 2:1:½, stock to vinegar to soy sauce.  “I like it pretty balanced,” Lamagna says. ”Soy is just a seasoning agent, vinegar is the star. it’s on your tongue as soon as you bite into the adobo,” which is usually a bright clean type, such as Datu Puti.

Carlo Lamagna

Acid does exist in other forms in the Philippines, such as calamansi, a tart Filipino citrus fruit, but Lamgna doesn’t use much, rather “I use vinegar in the same way  people add lemon and/or lime juice,,” says Lamagna. Often, for adobo, he reaches for white distilled vinegar for its neutral flavor and potent acidity, he also tries to source Filipino  vinegars when he can. “My grandmother had a cane field [in the Philippines],” Lamagna recollects, “and made her own vinegar; it was harsher than white distilled in a good way, with  a much more punchy profile.” He recommends Silver Swan’s mellow rice vinegar-like cane vinegar for adobo and otherwise — even though the company’s better known for its soy sauce.

Another way Lamagna amps up acidity isn’t just in the dish, it’s also on the table — with infused vinegars. Both in the Philippines, and often at his restaurant, sinamak, customarily a bottle of vinegar stuffed with chiles and garlic, is often left out as a self-serve condiment. He also offers suka pinakurat, a coconut sap vinegar that’s even more spiced than sinamak — with onions, sweet peppers, sugar and salt added in for more complexity and body, which he pairs with pork Shanghai lumpia. Texturally Lamagna notes that Filipinos like their condiments chunky; “it’s almost like [the combination of suka and spring roll] becomes a salad; cuts through the fat, brightens up the dish, and whenever vinegar is mixed with pork it’s such a delight — like pork vinaigrette.”

Magna Kusina

Another compulsory combination is the vinegar float atop balut, which many say is essential in enjoying the polarizing street food. “Vendors in the Philippines have two jars: one of vinegar, one of salt;” Lamagna advocates for trying vinegar first. “The rich consome inside the shell and super rich egg yolk need it [vinegar], a lot of people don’t get that nuance, and that’s what a good dash of vinegar can do!”.

At Abacá in San Francisco, another one of my West Coast Filipino cuisine confidantes, Francis Ang takes the innate flavors of his Pinoy heritage, and accentuates their global influences. A lamb adobo empanada is high on acid to balance out the gaminess of fatty lamb, encased in a Latin-leaning turnover. “We use a pinakurat vinegar fluid gel inside [the savory pastry] eliminating the idea of vinegar as a side dip for fried ingredients,” acknowledges Ang. Veggie lumpia has pineapple chili vinegar poured atop, as tokwa't baboy (a pig’s ear salad) which is shaved carpaccio-style with smoked tofu cream, rhubarb and celery, layered with a gelee of black vinegar. In another application, Ang mixes cane vinegar with rice syrup and soy sauce boiled down to a syrupy gastrique that’s both piquant and profound — it graces a plate of smokey sweet longaniza pork sausage as a contrast.

Photo by: Allison Webber @fox_zilla

While trying to find his modern Filipino form, Ang was also trying to find imported archetypal of indigenous vinegars; “there’s Sukang Iloko, local [to the Philippines] fermented cane sugar vinegar, traditionally fermented in burnay [earthenware] jars — [the vinegar is] dark in color, oxidized.” Ang includes this in a strawberry jus for a salmon kinilaw. He’s found an array of regional coconut vinegars as well, for his sweet-and-sour grilled chicken inasal, skewers from the Northwest city of Bacolod (in the Philippines), basted with bright yellow annatto butter.

Thin Cut Pork with Atchara - photo by Allison Webber @fox_zilla

Although pickles also play a part of how Ang introduces acidic elements — pickled Asian pears compliment an order of pork lumpia, and the requisite achara, grated unripe papaya (sometimes daikon and carrot as well) comes with a rotating selection of barbecue skewers — vinegar is a flavor enhancer at its core. It’s still has ties to a time when travelers first came through the Philippines; “a lot of times my parents, grandma or aunties would cook and leave food out for a few days [at room temperature] — in a tropical country, you can leave them [certain foods, like adobo, and even kinilaw] out in sun until the vinegar and salt preserves them.” Suffice to say, vinegar preserves traditional Filipino food in more ways than one.

Abi Balingit’s adobo chocolate chip cookie

BONUS RECIPE:

Abi Balingit, author of Mayumu: Filipino American Desserts Remixed, adds a teaspoon of apple cider vinegar to her adaptation of adobo chocolate cookies, vinegar is the vessel that brings the flavors of her Filipino heritage to a new audience.