Why Adobong Puti Is My Favorite Type of Adobo

Nonfiction by | February 23, 2026

Adobong puti is probably one of those dishes that is closest to my definition of “comfort food.” Cliché as it is, I always mimic the infamous Anton Ego spoon-drop whenever I eat this dish.

Preparing adobong puti is the easiest way to cook meat. You can screw up frying meat, but there is no way you can mess up adobong puti. All you have to do is put the meat in a pot or pan. It can be any meat, but I personally prefer liempo, or any pork cut with a good balance of meat and fat, together with the spices, vinegar, and salt.

Continue reading Why Adobong Puti Is My Favorite Type of Adobo

now before

Poetry by | February 16, 2026

In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.
— Albert Camus

From your carved corner, from your side of the crossroads
You asked me to take a look: love, it’s snowing here right now
And in the hurriedness of your work at hand, you sent without an edit:
have you seen now before?

Continue reading now before

Offerings to No One in Particular

Nonfiction by | February 9, 2026

“A bunch of rubbish” was my initial thought when I saw it on my daily walk to school. It was in my periphery, an eyesore against the pristine pinkish-white walls as its background, nestled under the shade of a young but bent kalachuchi tree in its unassuming yet interestingly cluttered glory. You walk a few steps ahead and you’ll see the board exam passers of our university, perfectly lined up with minimal design, painting an obvious disparity. With my cheap phone, held together by wrist bands and wishes, I would take a series of photos of a makeshift altar of sorts by the roadside of our school campus between June and September 2025. I was always compelled to take photos, as it was ephemeral, ever-changing, and seemingly included everything.

Continue reading Offerings to No One in Particular

A Eulogy for Aida Rivera-Ford

Nonfiction by | February 2, 2026

The first time I came within the sphere of Aida Rivera-Ford was 58 years ago, when she cast me as one of her players in a short sketch performed before the student body of the University of Mindanao. That was also my first introduction to theatre arts. That experience encouraged me to join the school’s Dramatics Guild, which further honed my interest and passion for the genre. But it was not until 1982 that I seriously embarked on the world of legitimate theatre, owing largely to her orchestration.

Continue reading A Eulogy for Aida Rivera-Ford