More Than Just a Meal: Finding the Heart of the Philippines in an Iloilo Kitchen
Did you know that the souring agent in one of Western Visayas’ most beloved dishes, KBL (Kadyos, Baboy, Langka), isn’t calamansi or vinegar, but a tart, leafy fruit called batuan? It’s a flavor profile you won’t find just anywhere, and one I certainly hadn’t tasted before. I’ve always believed that to truly understand a place, you have to taste it. Not just in its restaurants, but in its home kitchens, where recipes are a form of oral history. That’s what led me to seek out the experience of taking a cooking class in Iloilo, a city rightfully earning its title as a UNESCO Creative City of Gastronomy.
Getting to my class felt like a mini-adventure in itself. I was staying near the bustling La Paz Market, famous for its namesake, the hearty noodle soup Batchoy. From there, I took a classic Iloilo jeepney—a riot of color and chrome—for a fare of just ₱15 (about $0.25 USD). The cooking school, a small, family-run operation I found through a local recommendation, was tucked away in a quiet residential area in the Mandurriao district. The short journey was a great way to see the city’s transition from historic Spanish-era buildings to modern developments, all under a typically warm Visayan sun.
Learning the Language of Ilonggo Flavor
My instructor, a warm and endlessly patient woman named Tita Lorna, welcomed me not into a sterile, commercial kitchen, but into her own. The air was already fragrant with garlic and ginger. Our menu for the day was a deep dive into Ilonggo comfort food: the aforementioned KBL and the iconic Pancit Molo. Before we even touched a knife, she walked me through the ingredients, many sourced that morning from the local market. The kadyos (pigeon peas) were small and dark, the langka (unripe jackfruit) was firm, and the star, the batuan, was something I’d never seen before. This commitment to fresh, local produce is central to understanding the region’s cuisine and a highlight of any authentic cultural immersion in the Philippines.
Taking a cooking class in Iloilo with Tita Lorna was less about rigid instruction and more about storytelling. As we prepared the pork for the KBL, she explained that this was a dish for family gatherings, its savory-sour broth a perfect companion to steamed rice. She showed me how to properly wrap the pork-and-shrimp dumplings for the Pancit Molo, a skill that required more dexterity than I anticipated. My first few attempts were clumsy, but her gentle guidance, “Just fold it like a little blanket,” eventually led to something resembling the real deal. We didn’t use precise cup measurements, but rather the ‘feel’ of the ingredients—a pinch of this, a handful of that—a testament to generations of intuitive cooking.
A Shared Table and Unexpected Connections
The best part of the day was sitting down with Tita Lorna and her family to share the meal we had prepared. It transformed the experience from a simple lesson into a genuine connection. Her son, a university student, talked about his favorite version of KBL, while her husband teased me good-naturedly about the shape of my Molo dumplings. This wasn’t just a transaction; it was an invitation into their lives. This kind of interaction is at the heart of what makes unique travel experiences so memorable. We didn’t just talk about food; we discussed local life, the importance of community, and the pride they have in their Ilonggo heritage.
Of course, no travel experience is without its small hurdles. My biggest challenge was simply my own culinary timidity. The Filipino palate often embraces a bold combination of salty, sour, sweet, and umami, which can be intense for the uninitiated. My initial taste of the KBL broth, soured with the potent batuan, was a shock—but a pleasant one. The highlight, without a doubt, was the moment it all clicked: the sourness of the broth, the richness of the pork, and the subtle sweetness of the jackfruit creating a perfectly balanced, deeply satisfying dish. Another traveler concern might be finding a reputable class. My advice is to look beyond polished websites. I found my class by asking the staff at my hotel for a personal recommendation, which often leads to more authentic, less tourist-centered opportunities.
Tips for Your Own Iloilo Culinary Adventure
If you’re considering taking a cooking class in Iloilo, Philippines, here are a few things to keep in mind. Classes can range from ₱1,800 to ₱3,500 ($30 – $60 USD), often including a market tour and the meal itself. Always confirm what’s included. Don’t be afraid to ask for a specific dish you’d like to learn; many home-based instructors are flexible. While some classes are available for online booking, many of the best are discovered through word-of-mouth. Ask around when you arrive. Finally, embrace the experience with an open mind and an empty stomach. The goal isn’t just to learn a recipe, but to understand the culture that created it.
I left Tita Lorna’s home with a full belly, a notebook of recipes, and a much deeper appreciation for Iloilo. The flavors of batuan and perfectly seasoned Molo soup are now more than just tastes; they are memories of laughter, stories, and a shared table in a city that truly cooks with its heart. What flavors will you discover when you sit down at a local table?
