ASIDE from the scenic and memorable landmarks of my hometown, the one thing that always makes me eager to return home is the food. Fortunately, during my latest homecoming, I was not deprived of the rare opportunity to indulge in as many of my favorite Ilocano dishes as I could manage. My family, particularly my brother Manong Ben and his wife Cion, were tireless in serving the exact dishes I had been craving for months.
To make things even better, my law school classmates from the PUP College of Law, Lloyd and Melchor, joined me on this ultimate gastronomic foray. Before this trip, my friends were only familiar with mainstream dishes like pinakbet, dinengdeng, and bagnet; the rest of our regional culinary catalog was completely exotic to them. Because of this, I caught glimpses of both the hesitation of a Fear Factor contestant and a brave "why-not-try" attitude whenever a new plate was set on the table. Life in the Ilocos region can be tough, but our food always offers a little taste of heaven.
Here are the ten dishes that defined my spectacular homecoming food trip.
1. Imbaligtad
This sits firmly at the top of my list because it is my customary request. Every single time I arrive home for a vacation, my father whips this up as a welcome treat. Unlike papaitan, which relies on beef tripe and innards simmered over medium heat until tender, our delicious imbaligtad uses only the freshest, leanest cuts of beef tenderloin or loin. The meat is quickly stir-fried with garlic, ginger, onions, and a kick of hot chili.
The name imbaligtad literally translates to "flipped over" (binaliktad in Tagalog), signifying that the beef is rapidly tossed over high heat for just a few quick turns. This technique produces steaming, rare meat that remains incredibly sweet, tender, and far from rubbery.
2. Sinanglaw
Think of sinanglaw as a variation of papaitan, but without the intense bitterness of a cow's papait (bile or partially digested stomach contents). Instead of bitter notes, a vibrant sourness dominates the broth, driven by local sukang Iluko (Ilocos vinegar) or young tamarind, though kamias works as a great alternative.
Manong Ben treated my friends and me to a late-morning breakfast at a legendary, bustling sinanglawan located right adjacent to the town hall. It had been years since I last tasted authentic sinanglaw (which literally means "steamed" in our local dialect). My father noted that the version served in town is heavily inspired by the famous Vigan-style sinanglaw, which prioritizes meaty portions over the combination of cow's heart, large intestines, lungs, and skin that we traditionally prepare here in Narvacan. The ingredients are finely diced and stewed with a heavy hand of ginger, onions, and pepper. For Melchor and Lloyd—who hails from Batangas—it tasted remarkably like a ginger-infused, vegetable-free bulalo.
3. Warekwarek
Often referred to as dinakdakan by non-Ilocanos, this dish is traditionally made from grilled pig’s head and face, making it a close relative of the Kapampangan sisig. Pork innards are also thrown into our local blend. However, I think it tastes best when it features liver that has been submerged in vinegar rather than grilled, tossed with rich pig's brain (or mayonnaise as a modern alternative), onions, peppers, and sukang Iluko, all brightened with a splash of fresh calamansi.
I frequently recreate dinakdakan at home in Bulacan for my kids, and they absolutely adore it. While sisig is a personal favorite of mine when dining at local carinderias, whenever I cross back into northern territory, I always seek out the original, unadulterated warekwarek of my roots.
4. Kilawing Kambing
The true Ilocano way to prepare this kilawen (traditionally enjoyed rare or raw) involves grilling goat skin and meat before slicing them into fine strips. It is seasoned with sukang Iluko, finely chopped fresh onions, ginger, salt, pepper, and a splash of goat's papait for an authentic depth of flavor.
I always associate kilawing kambing with our massive clan reunions; an Ilocano celebration simply feels incomplete without this premier pulutan (bar snack). During my youth in barrio Nanguneg, my brothers, cousins, uncles, and I would all pitch in to help with the preparation. We handled everything from the panagpulpog (scorching the hair off the carcass over an open flame) to slicing the grilled meats, leading up to the final tasting and the celebratory tagayan (drinking circle). To ensure we had this staple for my father's birthday last November, I gladly chipped in to purchase a whole goat for the party.
5. Bagnet
This signature Narvacan delicacy consists of massive, deep-fried slabs of pork belly, similar to the Tagalog lechon kawali. What truly sets bagnet apart from other fried pork variants is its intensely blistered, crackling skin. Because it undergoes a rigorous, multi-stage frying process, the skin transforms into an ultra-crispy rind, while the interior meat remains incredibly juicy and tender.
I absolutely love biting into those succulent, flaky pieces of meat and skin oozing with savory richness, especially when dipped in bagoong (fermented fish paste) mixed with crushed tomatoes and a squeeze of calamansi. Alongside our local Narvacan longganisa, bagnet is my absolute favorite take-home souvenir. This time, Manong Ben accompanied my friends and me straight to the public market to buy a fresh batch right from a steaming, crackling stall.
6. Jumping Salad
This dish features fresh shrimp taken straight from a local fisherman's net and placed directly onto the dining table. They are literally jumping out of the bowl as you eat them raw! The absolute rawness of the experience can make first-timers recoil, but it didn't deter adventurous eaters like Melchor and Lloyd.
I jokingly dared Melchor to just open his mouth and wait for a shrimp to leap onto his palate so he could chomp down on it. To make the presentation even more lively, squeezing fresh calamansi or dropping a pinch of salt over the live shrimp causes them to jump even higher. For the perfect sawsawan (dipping sauce), we fill small saucers with savory patis (fish sauce), though bagoong or soy sauce serves as an excellent alternative.
7. Ginataang Palaka
It was Manong Ben’s bright idea to purchase a kilo of farm frogs, which had already been cleanly skinned down to tender, white flesh. "Don't tell your friends what we're eating until they try it," he whispered with a grin. He always says that everyone needs to remember their first time trying something exotic that others might dismiss as unappealing.
I hadn't eaten this childhood favorite of mine in years. Once stewed in rich coconut milk, the dish looked like miniature chicken drumsticks swimming in a velvety, milky broth. "It tastes exactly like chicken," I reassured Lloyd and Melchor as the bowl was placed on the lunch table. They were easily convinced and eagerly reached for a second helping. My memories of these edible farm frogs aren't just limited to dining; they track back to happy rainy seasons in the barrio, catching them by flashlight across open rice paddies.
8. Maritangtang
Alongside tirem (local oysters) and unnok (small river clams), maritangtang (sea urchin) is a seafood delicacy I crave intensely whenever I visit home. My sister Mahren, who works in a five-star hotel, mentioned that this exact delicacy—revered as uni by the Japanese—commands exorbitant prices in luxury restaurants. Its rich, golden roe is a highly sought-after sushi topping due to its scarcity abroad.
Yet, these spiny sea urchins are incredibly abundant along the Ilocos coastline and sell for very reasonable prices. My father recalled that decades ago, locals could simply stroll down to the shore during low tide and gather them by the basketful for free. During a beach picnic at Nalvo Beach in the neighboring town of Santa Maria, my father bought four hundred pesos worth of freshly harvested maritangtang from a local fisherman. We roasted them over hot coals, cracked the shells open, and scooped out the rich, buttery yellow flesh. Even the warm, briny water trapped inside the shell tastes incredibly sweet and delicious.
9. Dinengdeng
Savoring a hot bowl of authentic dinengdeng, cooked traditionally by either my mother or my sister-in-law Cion, is always a monumental highlight of my food trips. Unlike the globally famous pinakbet, dinengdeng (also known as inabraw) uses a more streamlined selection of vegetables and features a much clearer, bagoong-infused broth base. It is incredibly versatile; you can throw practically any fresh backyard vegetable into the pot and simmer them together to perfection.
We Ilocanos are, without a doubt, a vegetable-loving people. This stems directly from the abundance of fresh produce right outside our doorsteps. A standard dinengdeng can feature eggplants, squash blossoms, string beans, okra, paria (bitter gourd), saluyot (jute leaves), marunggay (moringa) leaves and pods, kabatiti (patola), pallang (winged beans), and sweet potato tops. I personally love topping the broth with pieces of smoky, grilled fish like dalag (mudfish) or bangus (milkfish) to add a beautiful layer of depth.
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| source of buridobod photo: pinakbet.wordpress.com |
10. Buridibud
I had been longing to try buridibud, which is a distinct, comforting variation of dinengdeng. What sets it apart is the intentional use of mashed or diced kamote (sweet potato), which breaks down to give the savory broth a thick, beautifully textured, and slightly sweet body. It is traditionally paired with alukon (the green, worm-like blossoms of a local tree), patani (lima beans), eggplants, and marunggay leaves.
Topping it with grilled local fish like bunog acts as the perfect flavor enhancer. It is a uniquely brilliant Ilocano concoction where sweet, starchy tubers harmonize beautifully with bitter greens and savory fish paste. I have successfully prepared this dish for my kids back home in Bulacan, and out of all the regional vegetable dishes I have introduced to them, they rank buridibud as one of the absolute best. Of course, as good as my own attempt is, nothing will ever beat my mother’s original version.
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| Melchor and Lloyd |
