Latest news with #BahayKubo
Tatler Asia
06-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Tatler Asia
Sustainability and flavour: The rise of fermentation in Asia's top restaurants
2. Toyo Eatery (Manila, Philippines) Named after the Tagalog word for soy sauce, Toyo is the Philippines' most internationally renowned restaurant. The intimate space in Makati is where Filipino nostalgia meets slow fermentation and sleek modernism. Skipping the more intimidating setups of other restaurants of the same calibre, Toyo feels more like a warm family dinner than a fine-dining room. It is helmed by Chef Jordy Navarra and his wife and creative partner, May, and with their team, they've created an ode to fermentation. Take the beloved tortang talong, a humble eggplant omelette transformed by their house-made fermented banana ketchup. Or the Bahay Kubo salad, a riot of 18 local vegetables, each preserved, pickled or marinated to maximise character. And yes, they have their own takes on vinegar-laced sawsawan, made with fermented coconut sap, adding funk and brightness in equal measure. Don't miss: Together they thrive: How did Jordy and May Navarra build Toyo Eatery Navarra taps into local fermentation traditions like tapuy (fermented rice wine) and bubud (a natural yeast starter) to build dishes that feel ancient yet avant-garde. One course might include clams kissed with tapuy, another a fish that's been dry-aged with microbial care. Fermentation in Asia often takes two directions—backward and forward. Toyo, however, uses it to look inward, toward heritage, home and the flavours passed down at the family table. 3. Gaa (Bangkok, Thailand) At Gaa, Chef Garima Arora has found a way to make fermentation taste like a homecoming and a disruption at the same time. Born in Mumbai and trained in the avant-garde kitchens of Noma, Arora brings centuries-old Indian preservation techniques into dialogue with Thai ingredients—and the results are electric. In Gaa's fermentation room, lychee becomes liqueur, split peas turn into miso, and Thai fish sauces bubble away beside jackfruit pickles. A dish might riff on the comfort of curd rice, but arrive layered with lacto-fermented fruit and spiced oil. Or chaat will get a haute twist thanks to garums made with koji-cultured Thai beef. In case you missed it: Garima Arora is Asia's Best Female Chef and the first Indian female to receive a Michelin star Arora's philosophy is less about fusion and more about translation. Her 'beef garum,' for example, doesn't try to mimic fish sauce—it speaks its own savory language. The result is a genre-defying menu that bridges the fermented worldviews of India and Southeast Asia, balancing nostalgia with discovery. 4. 7th Door (Seoul, South Korea) To say that Chef Kim Dae-chun of Seoul's 7th Door dabbles in fermentation is an injustice. Rather, he builds worlds of flavour around it. His intimate, 14-seat restaurant is a fermentation theatre where more than 40 house-made brews and pickles are the stars of a sensory journey. You literally walk past the jars: bubbling, ageing, thickening—an overture to the tasting experience that follows. Kim's guiding metaphor? Fermentation as the 'sixth door' in a seven-step journey toward gastronomic epiphany. Here, jangs—Korea's holy trinity of fermented pastes and sauces—are aged up to a decade in-house. The fish sauce called aekjeot is crafted from local seafood and cured in soy. Even desserts carry fermented echoes, such as soy-syrup glazes over truffle tteokbokki. In one course, raw fermented seafood called gejang is reimagined with rare Dokdo prawns. In another, traditional Korean citrus is preserved until its bitterness turns sweet. It's fermentation as art, memory and alchemy. 5. Onjium (Seoul, South Korea) Not far from 7th Door, another Seoul dining room pays tribute to fermentation in a quieter, regal way. At Onjium, co-chefs Cho Eun-hee and Park Sung-bae reinterpret Korea's royal cuisine with the poise of scholars and the precision of artisans. Their secret weapon? A fermentation farm in Namyangju, where they produce their own variants of jang, kimchi and vinegar using methods drawn from historical royal cookbooks. The dishes at Onjium whisper elegance: cabbage that's been brined, aged and caramelised or soy sauces made from heirloom beans aged in traditional earthen hangari. The fermentation here isn't experimental—it's ancestral. But don't mistake it for nostalgia. Onjium's modern plating and seasonal tasting menus pull these ancient techniques into the present, reminding diners that the best ferments are, above all, timeless. 6. Mingles (Seoul, South Korea) If 7th Door is fermentation as intimacy and Onjium is fermentation as legacy, then Mingles is fermentation as global stagecraft. Under the visionary hand of Chef Kang Min-goo, this Seoul heavyweight has turned jang, those beloved fermented pastes and sauces, into the core of award-winning culinary performance. Here, doenjang and gochujang aren't accents—they're structure. Think seared Hanwoo beef glazed in soy aged five years or a vinegar reduction made from Korean pears and wild herbs. Kang pairs these ferments with international techniques: foams, emulsions and the kind of delicate plating you'd expect in Paris, not Gangnam. The result is a cuisine that elevates fermentation. The message is clear: Korean flavours, when rooted in their fermented foundations, can speak a global language—and win all the stars while they're at it. Don't miss: Chef Mingoo Kang receives Inedit Damm Chefs' Choice Award 2021 by Asia's 50 Best Restaurants 7. Amber (Hong Kong) At first glance, Amber, the flagship of the Landmark Mandarin Oriental, might seem too polished, too pristine, too art-directed to be part of the fermentation set. But Chef Richard Ekkebus has spent the past few years quietly reworking fine dining's relationship with preservation. Gone are the creams, butters and heavy reductions of yesteryear; in their place are koji-aged vegetables, fermented grains and lacto pickles used with the precision of a Cartier timepiece. Amber's menu doesn't scream 'fermented,' but listen closely and it hums with microbial nuance: carrot koji with abalone, fermented buckwheat bread and a much-lauded plant-based bouillon that's more umami-packed than most bone broths. Even the desserts get in on the action, with seasonal fruit vinegars and fermented rice milk redefining what 'light' can mean in a luxury context. Amber isn't trying to be Nordic or temple cuisine. It's Hong Kong high design, reimagined with microbes and minerals. Fermentation here isn't rustic—it's tailored. 8. Yun (Seoul, South Korea) One might remember Chef Kim Do-yun from Culinary Class Wars: a White Spoon chef whose eyes were practically closed as he cooked rockfish while rocking headphones. He even detailed his obsession with drying ingredients, claiming he has the most extensive dried food collection among the cast. It comes as no surprise that his acclaimed restaurant, Yun, is built on traditional Korean fermentation, ageing and custom noodle-making. Chef Kim obsessively sources and preserves ingredients—pickles, beans, grains, dried vegetables, meats and fish—often ageing many of them for years to deepen the flavour. His lab-like kitchen storage with over 500 labeled ingredients (pickles, grains, seeds, etc.) underscores how fermentation and time are central to his cooking. For example, Yun's signature naengmyeon (cold wheat noodles) are made entirely in-house from Korean wheat and served simply with salt and oil. Chef Kim is even notorious for taking months off to study ingredients and techniques. While the chef himself is soft-spoken, his philosophy is bannered loudly in the restaurant, with diners hearing the detailed explanations of the ageing, fermenting and drying process behind the dishes.
The Age
30-04-2025
- Entertainment
- The Age
For years, I rarely saw my culture in the media. The Wiggles helped change that
While scrolling on Instagram recently, I saw John Adamo Pearce – the purple Wiggle – teaching kids how to sing Bahay Kubo, the Filipino song I sang as a child that names vegetables growing in a backyard. Pearce, a proud Filipino-Australian, often showcases his culture through fun Instagram reels with his mum, Flordeliza. When I see my culture represented in the media, I still experience a 'pinch-me' feeling. Growing up in the '70s and '80s, it was rare to see it depicted in mainstream Western media. But that's gradually changing. Two years ago, Sesame Street introduced TJ, the first Filipino-American Muppet. Arvin Garcia, a Filipino nurse from Melbourne, won the reality cooking show The Great Australian Bake Off last year. And in the 2023 season, MasterChef Australia featured Filipino-Australian chefs, including Ross Magnaye, cooking traditional dishes (both Jamie Oliver and Gordon Ramsay have dined at Magnaye's Melbourne restaurant, Serai, with Ramsay hailing Magnaye's taco sisig as the best dish he's tasted in years). There's more: the Good Food Guide (produced by Nine, publisher of Sunday Life) awarded one hat to Askal, a Filipino restaurant in Melbourne. The owners of Askal have also opened a bar called Inuman (Filipino for 'drinking session'), making it the first rooftop bar in Australia that serves cocktails using ingredients such as lemongrass, durian, lambanog (Palm liquor), ube (purple yam) and pandan. Representation matters. It is empowering for children of any non-white background to see their culture showcased in the media. It is not just about cultural pride; seeing someone in the media who looks like them sends the message that they, too, can succeed. In 2022, there were 320,300 Filipino-born people living in Australia, up from 206,110 a decade earlier. This makes us the fifth-largest migrant community in the country. But that fact hasn't stopped me from sometimes feeling isolated. As an exchange student in Perth in 1994, I was the only Filipino in my dorm. A Singaporean roommate said to me, 'You're the first Filipina I met who's my equal.' I don't think she meant to be disrespectful. But the only people from my culture she encountered in Singapore in the '90s were domestic helpers. I am mighty proud of these women; they are often teachers who make the sacrifice of working abroad to provide financially for their families at home. I am often mistaken for Vietnamese, Malaysian, Thai, Singaporean or Chinese. At university, many Spanish-speaking students assumed I'd be Latina because of my surname. Recently, an Australian neighbour told me, 'You're not like the other Asians. You don't use chopsticks, right?'
Sydney Morning Herald
30-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Sydney Morning Herald
For years, I rarely saw my culture in the media. The Wiggles helped change that
While scrolling on Instagram recently, I saw John Adamo Pearce – the purple Wiggle – teaching kids how to sing Bahay Kubo, the Filipino song I sang as a child that names vegetables growing in a backyard. Pearce, a proud Filipino-Australian, often showcases his culture through fun Instagram reels with his mum, Flordeliza. When I see my culture represented in the media, I still experience a 'pinch-me' feeling. Growing up in the '70s and '80s, it was rare to see it depicted in mainstream Western media. But that's gradually changing. Two years ago, Sesame Street introduced TJ, the first Filipino-American Muppet. Arvin Garcia, a Filipino nurse from Melbourne, won the reality cooking show The Great Australian Bake Off last year. And in the 2023 season, MasterChef Australia featured Filipino-Australian chefs, including Ross Magnaye, cooking traditional dishes (both Jamie Oliver and Gordon Ramsay have dined at Magnaye's Melbourne restaurant, Serai, with Ramsay hailing Magnaye's taco sisig as the best dish he's tasted in years). There's more: the Good Food Guide (produced by Nine, publisher of Sunday Life) awarded one hat to Askal, a Filipino restaurant in Melbourne. The owners of Askal have also opened a bar called Inuman (Filipino for 'drinking session'), making it the first rooftop bar in Australia that serves cocktails using ingredients such as lemongrass, durian, lambanog (Palm liquor), ube (purple yam) and pandan. Representation matters. It is empowering for children of any non-white background to see their culture showcased in the media. It is not just about cultural pride; seeing someone in the media who looks like them sends the message that they, too, can succeed. In 2022, there were 320,300 Filipino-born people living in Australia, up from 206,110 a decade earlier. This makes us the fifth-largest migrant community in the country. But that fact hasn't stopped me from sometimes feeling isolated. As an exchange student in Perth in 1994, I was the only Filipino in my dorm. A Singaporean roommate said to me, 'You're the first Filipina I met who's my equal.' I don't think she meant to be disrespectful. But the only people from my culture she encountered in Singapore in the '90s were domestic helpers. I am mighty proud of these women; they are often teachers who make the sacrifice of working abroad to provide financially for their families at home. I am often mistaken for Vietnamese, Malaysian, Thai, Singaporean or Chinese. At university, many Spanish-speaking students assumed I'd be Latina because of my surname. Recently, an Australian neighbour told me, 'You're not like the other Asians. You don't use chopsticks, right?'
CBC
06-04-2025
- General
- CBC
Warmth of a welcome
Ranz Jaren Bontogon Apr. 6, 2025 In this photo essay for CBC Creator Network, Ranz Jaren Bontogon is using film photography to explore the experiences, history and culture of Filipinos in New Brunswick. When I was 13, I immigrated to Moncton with my mother and sister. When we landed we were greeted with a blizzard, but having no experience with snow, I felt excited. Coming from the Philippines, a country where it's either hot or rainy, I knew adjusting to the environment would be challenging. Somewhere along the way, I found warmth in the welcoming embrace of New Brunswick and the Filipino community that helped me feel right at home. In our native language of Tagalog, we have a word — Bayanihan — which means community co-operation. Traditionally this is an old practice where neighbours gather around physically helping a family to relocate their Bahay Kubo, or nipa hut, a house made out of bamboo and banana leaves, by lifting and carrying it to a new location. This is an act of Pakikisama, or getting along and helping each other out. Filipino culture values harmony, empathy and unity over individualism. Our identity is connected through the spiritual Kapwa philosophy, or 'shared self,' where every person's responsibility is not for themself but in the service of each other and the greater community, binding us as one. These profound cultural customs are something that we practice no matter where we are in the world, including here in New Brunswick. I'm grateful for the power of photography and how it can broaden one's horizons. I hope my photos give current and future generations of Filipinos and Filipino-Canadians a window to see their heritage through and to provide an understanding that helps everyone see the beauty in our culture and how it fits into our shared communities in New Brunswick. Helping Filipinos feel at home, one at a time Betty De Asis Betty De Asis is one of the founding members of the Filipino Association of New Brunswick, which was formed in 2007. At the beginning, the association relied entirely on their own pockets and the support of the Filipino community. Because of Betty's stewardship, the small initiative grew into the thriving organization it is today. She is well-respected and known as Nanay (Mother) Betty in the community, a name that speaks to her kindness and motherly nature. One of her greatest contributions has been voluntarily helping newly arrived Filipinos settle in New Brunswick. For 14 years, Nanay Betty was a full-time teacher at Elsipogtog First Nation School, with many of her students remembering her compassion, staying in touch even years later. 'I went to UNB Fredericton and got my education degree so I could teach,' she said. 'Years later, I was professionally dressed up for an interview for adult education at Oromocto when I got a call from the principal of Elsipogtog First Nation School, he told me to come in. When I arrived, the principal tossed me a set of keys and told me this is for your classroom. I got excited then I quickly ran to this classroom, when I entered It was empty, but at that time I got help from my kababayan [fellow Filipinos] with filling up my classroom with decorations, It was a regular act of bayanihan, I couldn't be any happier.' Betty currently lives in Richibucto with Tito, or Uncle, Raynald Chiasson, her partner of 20 years. She travels around the province working as a settlement support worker, making presentations about Filipino cultures to elementary students as part of the diversity and inclusion initiative by the New Brunswick Multicultural Council. One thing I felt when I was having my conversation with Nanay Betty was her quiet, steady generosity — a generosity shaped by her own experiences of isolation and the kindness she now shares freely, making sure everyone around her always feels seen and supported. Guiding the Filipino community forward Anna Mae Sy Originally from Las Piñas, Philippines, Anna Mae Sy moved to Canada with her husband and daughter, settling in Moncton in 2018. Right from the start, she viewed this new chapter as full of exciting possibilities. She started her career as an early childhood educator, then moved into teaching English online, eventually landing a job that spoke to her passion for culture and community. During the COVID-19 pandemic, she joined the Multicultural Association of the Greater Moncton Area as a youth program co-ordinator, helping refugees, immigrants, and youth explore their career paths. In 2023, Anna Mae successfully ran for the volunteer position of vice-president for the Filipino Association of New Brunswick, and began helping with various initiatives like the annual Filipino Christmas party, Filipino Family Day in the summer, and Filipino Heritage Month. 'My family and I felt the hardships of immigration, and the only thing I can do now that I'm here is to pass forward the kindness I was given to others trying to settle in New Brunswick,' she said. 'When you are part of a community organization like this (Filipino Association of New Brunswick), your outreach is endless and we try our best to help, this is part of the spirit of Bayanihan. The Filipino community did not hesitate when a kababayan almost got deported. They were set to go home when the community got together and helped raise funds to pay for a lawyer. I saw how we all united to help this person. 'If I change one life for the better, then I've done my job. It resonates with me deeply, whenever I see the impact of the work we do in the Filipino community.' This year marks the 18th year for the Filipino Association of New Brunswick, and it also marks a huge milestone for Anna Mae, who was chosen as the association's new president. Listening to her oath-taking speech, you could feel her heart for the community in every word she spoke. She also chairs the Asian Heritage Society of New Brunswick, a volunteer group that celebrates Asian heritage and opens doors for honest conversations about life in Atlantic Canada. In her day job, Anna Mae helps community members with writing resumes, job-hunting and interview prep as an employment counsellor for the Government of New Brunswick. Anna Mae is a great example of what the Kapwa philosophy entails. Her responsibility is not just for herself but in the service of the greater community, making it a better place not just for Filipinos, but for everyone. Navigating mixed Filipino-Acadian heritage Philipp Nino Michaud Growing up as the child of a Filipino mother and Acadian father, Phillip Nino Michaud sometimes felt caught in between two worlds. For Nino, there was a period when he resented being Filipino because it made him feel self-conscious. In elementary school, his mom always made sure he had the best food, preparing meals like pancit, a Filipino noodle dish, and other dishes she put time and care into. But instead of feeling proud, Nino wished he could just bring something that wouldn't make him stand out. 'I should just be able to eat whatever I want,' he thought at the time. It took a while, but eventually, he realized that the food his mom made is a representation of who he is, and that standing out isn't a bad thing. 'I would say that my mom and her active involvement with the Filipino Association of New Brunswick played a big key in me growing up and just really getting my sense on my Filipino side. But in the end, you know, I learned not to pick but to embrace both.' Nino acknowledged that being Filipino-Acadian may have its hardships, but it's a gift, an opportunity that not everyone gets to have. Realizing that he was given a bridge that connects him to both Filipino and Acadian culture, he feels grateful for both sides of his heritage, and how it enriches his life. Even his name, Philipp Nino Michaud, carries meaning. Philipp and Nino together, form the word Filipino, while Michaud, his Acadian surname, anchors him to his other half. With a sweet reminder that's ingrained in his very identity, he never has to choose one or the other, but instead he moves through both with a sense of belonging. Raising a family with Filipino and Canadian traditions Jason Hernandez & Jennifer Dupuis Jason Hernandez and Jennifer Dupuis have been together for seven years and are raising two daughters: Serina, who is one, and Faith, who is four. Their parenting styles are influenced by Dupuis's Acadian heritage and Hernandez's Filipino culture. Growing up in the Philippines, Hernandez carries with him the traditions and values that influenced his approach to family life in Canada, including respect for elders and strong family ties. 'We're doing that Filipino tradition where we all sleep in the same bed,' he said. 'She [Jennifer] didn't like it at first, because most of the time she's on the corner of the bed and would fall off. I'll be in the corner too, but Serina and Faith like to be in the middle, beside us. I told Jennifer, It's good to be close. She ended up accepting it, [and] now we all sleep in the same bed every night.' Jennifer spoke about her gradual ease into Filipino culture as she became part of Jason's family, from learning how to speak the Tagalog language to experiencing life in the Philippines, a trip she enjoyed so much she didn't want to leave. 'When I had our daughter Faith, I had postpartum depression, because she was my first kid and at the time, I didn't know how everything worked, but every time I needed to sleep, Nanay and Tatay (Jason's parents) would take over. They're always there, ready to help us,' shared Jennifer. In the Philippines, family often extends far beyond the usual nuclear household in Canada. It is very common for multiple generations — including grandparents, uncles, aunts and cousins — to live under one roof, creating an embracing support system. It's a Filipino way of life where our doors are always open, meals are shared without hesitation, and there is always someone to turn to, whether for guidance, laughter, or maybe just sitting together after a hard day. For Jason and Jennifer, raising their daughters means carrying these traditions forward. Their home is never quiet but it's always full of love, a comfort knowing that help is always close. Bringing the community together through music Mark Ruiz Pajaron Mark Ruiz Pajaron's father arrived in Cap-Pelé in 2011. Once he got his permanent residency in 2018, Mark immigrated to New Brunswick, along with his mother and brother. Before moving to Canada, he was in his third year of college in the Philippines. For Mark, there were times when he longed for home, but he adapted with the support of the Filipino community. Today, he is the only Canadian citizen in his family. Coming from the big city of Cagayan de Oro, Mark found the fresh air and quieter pace in New Brunswick refreshing. Life moved differently here, but in a way that felt right for him and his family to start over. What stood out to him the most was how welcoming people were for a small town. They showed a real interest in his culture, asking questions and wanting to learn more. He found comfort in those conversations, seeing them as a way to share his Filipino heritage while also feeling more at home in a new place. Music has always been a part of Mark's life, but stepping onto a stage in New Brunswick was something he had to slowly ease into. As a newcomer, he wasn't sure how people would react to his performances. 'I remember the first time I ever performed, it was during a scallop festival in Richibucto and they could not play the Philippine national anthem,' he said. 'A kababayan pushed me to sing it and so I did. I was really embarrassed and worried, because I know some Filipinos are super strict when it comes to singing our national anthem. It needed it to be in a right and respectful tone. I was really nervous but fortunately everything went smoothly and I got a good reaction from the audience. Singing is my calling, I wish I could do more, paid or not, I would love to perform as long as I live.' About the Author Ranz Jaren Bontogon Ranz Bontogon (he/him) is a photographer, artist and cultural worker based in Moncton. Originally from Taguig City, Philippines, he immigrated to Canada in 2013 and has been living in New Brunswick for more than a decade. His work explores Filipino identity, migration and his culture through traditional darkroom processes, including silver gelatin and platinum-palladium printing. Footer Links My Account Profile CBC Gem Newsletters Connect with CBC Facebook Twitter YouTube Instagram Mobile RSS Podcasts Contact CBC Submit Feedback Help Centre Audience Relations, CBC P.O. Box 500 Station A Toronto, ON Canada, M5W 1E6 Toll-free (Canada only): 1-866-306-4636 TTY/Teletype writer: 1-866-220-6045 About CBC Corporate Info Sitemap Reuse & Permission Terms of Use Privacy Jobs Our Unions Independent Producers Political Ads Registry AdChoices Services Ombudsman Public Appearances Commercial Services CBC Shop Doing Business with Us Renting Facilities Accessibility It is a priority for CBC to create a website that is accessible to all Canadians including people with visual, hearing, motor and cognitive challenges. Closed Captioning and Described Video is available for many CBC shows offered on CBC Gem. About CBC Accessibility Accessibility Feedback © 2025 CBC/Radio-Canada. All rights reserved. Visitez
