This Masterclass Taught Us Representation Matters Even In the Pinoy Handaan Table
Set a refresh button on your party menu with less-heralded dishes from the regions.
by Jerome Gomez
Published on Jan 15, 2026
(SPOT.ph) We all pretty much have the same idea of what a Noche Buena table should look like—festive, bountiful, inviting enough to give everyone another reason to stay awake past midnight (the first reason being the opening of presents, of course). The difference lies in what each spread consists of. In our household, it’s usually something that involves a saucy dish, likely tomato-based (sometimes kaldereta, at one time Beef bourguignon); a meat roast, like chicken with rosemary and lemon butter sauce; and a ball of ham to be sliced and used for palaman between two pieces of tasty bread.
But sometimes one gets tired of the usual stuff and craves a bit of change. This is sort of what inspired the food journalist and historian Roberto Villarcabral to put together a Philippine Christmas-themed masterclass last December. Although of course he has loftier motivations—he’s long observed that in tables around the country, many of our own dishes have been largely under-represented, especially during the holidays.
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“As a Tagalog, I initially understood Filipino Christmas fare only through a Tagalog lens: relyenong manók; bibingka espesyal with salted egg; and early-morning Novena Masses known as simbáng gabi,” Roberto writes in the class module. “But when I began working as a cultural journalist, a much broader picture emerged. I learned, for instance, that Visayans still refer to the early-morning Mass as misá-de-aguinaldo or misa de gallo, and that instead of puto bumbong, they enjoy púto máya afterward. Observations like these helped me appreciate the diverse ways communities throughout the archipelago celebrate their heritage-and how this very diversity shapes our collective Filipino identity.”
While this last workshop was fashioned especially for filling the Christmas table, the dishes he featured can very well be anyone’s flex for other handaans throughout the year: there’s ham, a pot roast, a decadent rum cake, and the all-important side dishes that definitely add cheer to any dining arrangement. But first our company of 15 or so workshoppers, running the gamut from Gen Zs to seniors, men and women, were treated to a small table filled with a long forgotten Queso de Bola spread and curious-sounding homegrown treats like Relyenong Keso, Sarsang Pula and Sarsang Puti—not to mention a drink called Butterfly Iced Tea.
Rellenong Keso, Butterfly Iced Tea and More Curiosities
And this is what’s great about Rob’s workshops, you don’t get out of there just knowing how to cook another dish, or feeling wonderfully busog and happy tasting his delicious food, you also get a lot of glimpses from our rich, storied past. The aforementioned Queso de Bola spread, for one, a simple combination of sweet cream butter and Edam cheese inventively served in a hollowed-out Edam rind, was popular among Manila’s elite hostesses during the 50s up to the 1960s. (It’s also good slathered on top of bibingka, as we found out that afternoon!)
The Butterfly Iced Tea, meanwhile, was a go-to drink in a golfer hangout that turned into a folk house at night within the now largely forgotten UP Diliman Golf Course. Concocted by the owner Angel Nepomuceno, it’s a sweet refreshment with calamansi and vanilla recreated by Rob himself from interviews with the few who are familiar with its taste—likely the groovy visitors of the old golf club, or patrons of the Nepomuceno bowling alleys where the iced tea was eventually served. It can be a refreshing drink, a companion that can hold its own vis a vis the decadent flavors our masterclass teacher served—but the diabetic should perhaps consume it in moderation because its sweetness comes from, as per Rob’s research, glucose “enriched with a touch of molasses.”
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Celebrations Around the Archipelago
Apart from the engaging history lessons, trivia too make Rob’s workshops fun occasions. In this one held at the spacious Studiom in Proscenium Rockwell’s Lorraine Tower, one surprising moment was when he told us that the purple color of the puto bumbong is not really from ube but from a hard to find grain called pirurutong— a kind of dark rice used in the old days with malagkit to come up with the post-midnight mass staple.
But the pieces de resistance of Pasko ‘round The Archipelago, which was the title of the Histolinary Collective’s December workshop, were the Hamon ng Bulacan and the Asadung Matua. These two are grand meat dishes and can be stars of any feast, not just the Noche Buena table. While the lechon is often the paandar in Filipino occasions, in Bulacan during colonial times, cooks came up with a much simpler, humbler pork dish called inasinan, or cured pork belly—or simply hamon.
According to Rob’s research, “Legend has it that the result became a favorite in convent kitchens, where friars kept food for visiting guests.” While traditionally white wine was used to boil the pork for the Bulakenya ham, the dish has evolved to being cooked just with a combination of pineapple juice and beer. But Rob kept the wine in the recipe he showed us, and the result was a soft but sturdy, lightly salty, lightly sweet pork dish, with a caramelized bottom (thanks to the torched sugar on the skin) that begged for some hot pan de sal.
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Asado and Asadonts: The 5 Steps to Asadong Matua
Rob prepared a total of six dishes for what was originally meant to be a three-hour workshop (with a little help from a couple of kitchen hands and his mother). By the time he was done, it was appropriately dinner—among the highlights of which was his Asadung Matua, a dish that can be made using pork shoulder, or a pound of fresh pork ham, or a whole chicken. Chicken was Rob’s meat of choice during the workshop, which was just as well because we already had a pork dish in the form of the Bulakenya ham.
With its origins in Pampanga, the Asadung Matua is not exactly an asado the way we Manileños know our asado—which is like the char siu pork inside siopao, or enjoyed as sweet meat slices in Chinese lauriats. There’s a couple of light frying involved here, too, and tomatoes are one of the main ingredients that make for a truly rich, delicious sauce.
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The prep is pretty tedious, involving 5 steps: the babad is where the meat is marinated in salt and a souring agent, in this case the dayap which is a touch more tart than the more readily accessible calamansi. Next process is singkutsa, where the meat is braised or cooked with aromatics like a stew. Step 3 is light frying or searing. The fourth step is gisa where the tomatoes come in, as well as some stewed vegetables. Finally, all the cooked elements are assembled on a spacious dish. The result is pretty grand: the chicken sits on a sarsa produced from the earlier processes, and then it’s surrounded by thinly sliced and quickly fried potatoes. It’s festive, the meat is delicious, and the sauce is to die for.
For dessert, Rob very generously allowed us to share the recipe of his Borracho Maravillosa, whose roots are in the convent kitchens of Spain but this version is by way of Samar, made popular in the early 20th century by a Teodula Congzon of Catbalogan. Rob describes it thus in writing: a “sponge cake left to cure for five days in rum; brightened with red lemonsito and crowned with a cloud of meringue.” The rum gives quite the kick and makes the dessert all the more decadent and sinful. We all came home not only a little tipsy but also likely very pleased knowing our Sunday afternoon was well spent, having had the pleasure of enjoying the dishes enjoyed by our forefathers during a different period in our history, or served in grand occasions even up to now by our Filipino brothers and sisters in homes in different parts of the country.
HOW TO MAKE BORRACHO MARAVILLOSA (Rum Cake with Lime Berries)
Sponge:
105 millitres / ½ cup of tubâ
150 millilitres / ⅔ cup of milk
150 grams / 1 ¼cups of all-purpose flour
2 grams / ½ teaspoon of instant yeast [optional]
Batter:
5 egg yolks (about 100 grams / 3½ ounces)
75 grams / ⅓ cup of sugar
125 grams / ½ cup + 1 tablespoon of sweet-cream butter, softened
100 grams / ¾ cup + 2 tablespoons of all-purpose flour
405 grams / 2% cups of sponge mixture (see above]
1 egg white (about 35 grams / 1⅛ ounces)
6 grams / 1 teaspoon of baking powder [optional]
Rum syrup:
100 grams / ½ cup of sugar
50 millilitres / 3 tablespoons + 1 teaspoon of water
126 millilitres / ½ cup of dark rum
Filling:
145 grams / ¼ cup + 3 tablespoons of Dulce de Limoncito [see recipe below]
Frosting:
4 egg whites (about 175 grams / 6⅓ ounces)
280 grams / 1¼ cups + 2 tablespoons of caster sugar
Decoration:
Lime-berries
Candied Dalandán [see recipe below]
MAKE THE SPONGE: Mix all ingredients together and wait until it has bloomed.
MAKE THE BATTER: In a large mixing bowl, beat egg yolks with the sugar and butter until thoroughly blended. Add the flour and the sponge mixture. Mix in the egg white and then (if using) the baking power. Grease and flour two shallow 20.32-centimetre / 8-inch round cake pans, and pour equal amounts of batter on each. Bake in the oven at 180°C / 350°F for eighteen minutes.
MAKE THE SYRUP: In a sauce-pan, dissolve sugar in water and let it simmer until reduced. Remove from stove and stir in the rum. Once the cake has cooled, remove from the pans and place the designated lower half on a nice plate. Pour half of the rum syrup and let it soak.
MAKE THE FROSTING: Heat up caster sugar while the oven is running at the same temperature. Leave it there for five minutes. In another large mixing bowl, beat egg whites with a hand mixture until soft peaks form. Remove sugar from the oven and gradually beat it in to the egg whites. Increase speed until the mixture becomes a glossy meringue. Once the cake has soaked, layer it with dulce de limoncito and top it With the upper half of the cake. Pour the syrup over it and let it set. After five minutes, proceed to cover the cake in the frosting. Use a butane torch to singe the meringue. Decorate the cake with lime-berries and candied dalandán.
HOW TO MAKE DULCE DE LIMONCITO (Lime-Berry Preserves)
LÉMONSITO or límonsitong-kastilà (Triphasia trifolia) goes by many names across the regions: limonsilyo, lemon de china, dayap-tsina, suáng-kastila. and several others. These nuances can shift even within the same province. In Samar, for instance, ask the people of Catbalogan what a lémonsito is and they will point to this berry; yet among those from San Jorge, a lémonsito refers to a calamansi. Internationally, it is known as lime-berry. Despite its citrus-inspired monikers, it is not a true citrus, even if it does belong to the same Rutacee family of flora. Native to South-East Asia, including the Philippines, these bright red berries possess an unusual aroma and flavour, recalling the cool sharpness of lemon rind tempered by the warmth of cinnamon. For centuries, they served as a cherished heirloom ingredient in local sweets, perpetuated by Spanish colonials and native communities alike—particularly the Tagalogs, Kapampangans, Bikolanos, and certain Visayan groups. Once harvested, the berries are typically processed to remove their resin before being simmered in a light syrup and kept well beyond their fruiting season. These preserves—known as dulce de limoncito—may be enjoyed on their own, as they were in mid-twentieth-century Manila in place of maraschino cherries; but more often, they lend their distinctive flavour to desserts such as budin de leche and, indeed, borracho maravillosa.
480 grams / 2 cups of lime-berries
940 millilitres / 1 quart of water
400 grams / 2 cups of sugar
Wash the lime-berries thoroughly. Soak these in a bowl of water for eight hours to soften the rinds and reduce resin.
After soaking, drain and pinch each berry to push out the seeds.
Place the prepared berries and the water in to a copper pot (or any sauce pot would do). Cook over medium heat.
Once the mixture begins to simmer, add the sugar. Stir and continue cooking until the preserves thicken and the berries turn glossy and soft.
Pour the hot preserves into sterilised jars, leaving about a 0.6-centimetre / ¼-inch head-space.
Seal with clean lids.
For longer storage, process in a boiling water bath for ten minutes.
Otherwise, refrigerate and use within three to four weeks.
HOW TO MAKE CANDIED DALANDAN
THE PRESENCE OF CANDIED FRUIT has long woven itself into our Christmas traditions, so it is no surprise that these jewel-like morsels—so often seen crowning cakes and puddings—have become part of our much-awaited Decembers. We usually picture such gleaming bits in wintry European landscapes; yet there is no reason we cannot craft our own tropical interpretation. Dalandán—known variously as kahel or sintoris in different parts of the archipelago—is our native answer, and is in fact kin to the famed Seville oranges prized for marmalade. Ours, however, carries a lush perfume that seems to gather the flavours of the tropics within its distinctly evergreen rind, kept rich with chlorophyll by the warmth of the Philippine climate. And, in case one should confuse the two, dalandán is not dalanghita; their names come from the Spanish naranja and naranjita-orange and the "little orange" mandarine.
3 dalandán (about 50 grams each; and 150 grams total)
200 grams / 1 cup of sugar
235 millilitres / 1 cup of water
Slice the dalandán cross-wise into 0.63-centimetre / ¼-inch rounds.
Remove the seeds.
Place the slices in a pot of boiling water for two minutes, then drain.
Rinse under cool tap water. Repeat this blanching process until the pith (the white part of the rind) is no longer bitter.
TIP: Reserve one slice as a tester. After each blanching, cut a small piece from it to check whether the bitterness has subsided.
In a saucepan, combine the 235 millilitres / 1 cup of water with the sugar, stirring until the sugar dissolves. Bring to the boil.
Once boiling, lower the heat to medium and add the dalandán slices. Simmer for forty-five minutes to one hour, or until the pith turns translucent, turning the slices occasionally.
Transfer the candied dalandán to a plate to cool. Reserve the syrup for future recipes

Jerome Gomez is Spot's EIC. He counts knowing how to roast a chicken, make Korean army stew, and mix a good Negroni among his great accomplishments in life.