MANILA, PHILIPPINES — One of the first things that John Sherwin Felix, Founder of Lokalpedia, told me is that none of the vegetables in local educational song Bahay Kubo (Nipa Hut) is native to the Philippines — native meaning that it indigenous to the country and not introduced.
In October 2022, I met John during his exhibit “Sangkap” in Escolta. Between two wooden pegs are strings where photos of native plants and ingredients were clipped like a clothesline. Some hung the actual ingredients, many of which were new to me, but there were those that I’ve only heard of in folk songs such as alibangbang and lubi-lubi.
As it was getting late and the building was closing, John started telling everyone to take home ingredients of their choosing. There were plenty like sakurab, dayap, gamet, and tabon-tabon, none of which I knew how to use in my kitchen. It was then when a Muslim woman, awestruck with delight, asked if she could have the langkawas (commonly known as galangal) because she did not see it often in Manila but recognize it as one of their ingredients back home.
“Those kinds of encounters fire me up because those ingredients are their connection to their culture,” John said noting that it is not uncommon for him to meet people that appreciate seeing ingredients that would otherwise be branded as obscure or unheard of.
He added, “I’ve been to underdeveloped areas to give talks about food heritage; I’ve been to schools, universities, the academe acknowledges my work so I can proudly say that we woke an interest in our food heritage.”
“Through food, we find connection and it’s an important cultural marker.”
Talking to John is almost like receiving a lecture from an academic. There are terms that I had to ask him to repeat and plenty of names that were tongue twisters. He started Lokalpedia as a research passion project to document native, endemic, and introduced species of Filipino edible plants, fruits, and vegetables. The online archive has now thousands of following and has over a hundred entries in its page; but behind every photo is a tedious process — kilometers traveled, hundreds of conversations with farmers and local cooks, interviews, comparison to existing literature, and testing it in his own kitchen.
“I cook it, I taste it, I need to eat everything. Hindi ako nagkukuwento na hindi ko natikman, naamoy, nalasahan, naluto, para maintindihan ko yung sangkap,” he shared. (“I cook it, I taste it, I need to eat everything. I don’t tell stories of something that I didn’t personally taste, smell, cook, so that I can really understand the ingredient.”)
John takes pride in having indigenous and artisanal salts as staples in his kitchen. In his words, why would one use mass produced ingredients when there are plenty of traditionally harvested salts from different parts of the country? Why use off-the-shelves vinegar when there are paumbong, tuba, and sukang Iloko?
Learning the hard way when he once cooked adobong takway without properly removing the plant’s micro-needles, John said being a food advocate entails having open ears and mind. “Always consult the locals, always respect their traditional knowledge.”
His anecdotes too are a trove of lessons. For example, what’s available to one region may also have another name in a different place, and some even come with a reputation. John told me about baluno (also known as white mango) and how it was a wild ride to document the fruit.
Commonly found in the southern part of the country, the creamy and fibrous fruit is supposed to grow on its own and not planted because it will bring bad fate to those who will sow the seed. The notoriety of baluno extends to Saranggani, Basilan, Zamboanga, and Southern Palawan where locals say, “Mas gugustuhin mo pang mahulugan ng durian kaysa sa baluno,” (“You would rather a durian fall on you than a baluno”) because of its sheer mass that can kill you with a blow to the head.
Beyond food representation, John hopes that the ingredients will be integrated into the everyday dishes we cook. Because if we do, it will give livelihood to the farmers and fishermen, and will further the craft of the artisans and will preserve the tradition.
“Using my voice, I can save ingredients or even an industry. I can give voice to our farmers, artisans, and to our food culture.”
While his work is a balancing act of science and society, research and groundwork, what John came to conclude is that Filipino cuisine is a collective of native ingredients, foreign influences and practical adaption to everyday life. “Karugtong ng pagkain ay ang kulturang nakapalibot dito. The Filipino food is a colorful tapestry.” (“An extension of food is the culture that envelops it. The Filipino food is a colorful tapestry.”)
Rooted in the belief of nature providing everything, John hopes to fill in the gap in people’s disconnection to their surrounding. From the sea to the land, he knows from experience that Filipinos only need to see and taste the ingredients often to appreciate them.
“A lot of people are disconnected to our roots but at the same time, you just need to tell the story.”
Through Lokalpedia, he hopes to encourage one’s love for their culture and to be a bigger voice enough to overshadow those who exoticize our cuisine. John said, “We need to tell our own story to reclaim our narrative.”
Two years into the project, Lokalpedia is already becoming a reference to students, and food enthusiasts. While he has gone over a hundred entries, John knows that he is not nearly done. Between the abundance of our country’s ecosystem and his passion for documenting native, endemic, and endangered species, Lokalpedia is on its way to be the most comprehensive archive of Filipino ingredients.
Join the Lokalpedia community at https://www.instagram.com/lokalpediaph/
