WE NORMALLY wouldn’t use a swear word (albeit a mild one) to title a story, but what can we say? We’re using the Lechon Diva’s (Dedet de la Fuente) own words, and we’re at a loss for any others.
JOSEPH L. GARCIA
During the last days of March, Ms. De la Fuente invited a small group from the media (and a few personal friends) for her seventh degustation — her previous ones had similarly sweetly vulgar names: Hayop sa Sarap, for exam-ple; but also quite dignified dinners dedicated to her daughters with Dinner at Tiffany’s, and the Richman’s Dinner for TV host Adam Richman, who paid her a visit.
While having a comical name, last March’s dinner at her Magallanes Village home was serious. Ringing a bell, she commanded attention: “I believe in my heart that Filipino cuisine is our living history. From the resilience of the Katipuneros to the wisdom of our lolas (grandmothers), we have always been very smart in transforming the simplest events.”
On paper, she sounds astounding: the woman took cooking classes with top local chefs Sylvia Reynoso Gala and Reggie Aspiras, and ended up serving her lechon – whole roast pig –to the likes of the late Anthony Bourdain and Martha Stewart. At home, well: when asked about her age, she quipped: “What’s your waistline? That’s my age.” Answered with a lie in the 20s, she gave us a high-five.
We’re glad to know that skill — nay, gifts — can come with a good time. While the names of her dishes were playful, there was serious thought behind each one of them: for example, she thought of cooking them in different vessels. Pots and pans, of course, but also fruit and bamboo.
The table was laden with pig ornaments: now her lucky animal, we guess. Think straw pigs, a pig pitcher, and a sterling silver pig.
OF PINOY SPAGHETTI AND LAING
The meal started out with a platter of appetizers. There was fried chicken skin slathered with Filipino-style spaghetti sauce (the way her daughter eats it at a certain fast food chain; clever, intimate, and had nostalgia in a bite). This was followed by laing (taro leaves cooked in coconut milk) deep-fried like okoy (shrimp patties), and dipped in vinegar from her native Bulacan — this was smart; the last time we had laing, we placed an amount that could fit on our pinky on a spoon and ate it just to please our host; this laing, I could eat every day. This round ended with a Bulaga Ball (named by her daughter): a bread shell wrapped around the bulaga (surprise) ingredient, a balut salpicao. It had a heavy, intense flavor, especially combined with the Mr. Thomas butter (Mang Tomas liver sauce in a bottle, made into a compound butter — our host was a hoot and a half). The heft of the dish also made it strangely com-forting, like a hug from a long-lost aunt.
She didn’t play for the next round: she called this dish, served in a shell, on a plate laden with glass pearls South Sea Pearls. Tapioca pearls, usually reserved for desserts, were slathered in a creamy seafood sauce, topped off with a single scallop. She joked that we should toss our pearl necklace right in the dish, but we were too busy chewing. The sweetish scallop cuts through the richness of the seafood sauce (akin to a palabok, a shrimp sauce used for noodles). The seafood palabok sauce itself had a strong oceanic flavor, unlocking memories of the sea I didn’t know I even had. The dish was clever in reminding one of the native palabok, but presenting it in a way that felt differ-ent and novel.
A Bone Marrow Bite was served next, with pickled onion and fried banana blossom: these gave the rich bone marrow (spread as a mayonnaise) some zing; the same liveliness could be tasted with the Sigarilyas at Ano Pa (winged beans and what else), with dilis (crispy anchovy), cucumber, and pandan gata. This was also sprinkled with native herb Peperomia pellucida (pansit-pansitan), which gave it a nice peppery kick; we like that this salad had a wholly Filipino feel.
She then brought out a bamboo tube, filled with our soup. Taking after the binakol (chicken cooked in coconut water), she cooked clams in coconut water with lemongrass. The sweetish broth also had that uniquely Filipino fla-vor. Despite the sweetness, the broth was clean and sharp as clear glass, so much so that we diners became meditatively silent while sipping the broth. Ms. De la Fuente noticed this and said, “Ang tahimik niyo ha (you’re all so qui-et)!”
She called her next dish Sipit Sarap, but sometimes calls it the Carb Gulong-Gulong (rolling in Filipino; she says that’s so because you’ll be rolling with delight after). This is her interpretation of Crab Alavar from Mindanao, which kept the guests quiet again: that’s two appreciative silences so far.
An Inasal (grilled chicken course) wasn’t quite as expected: she took cues from pineapple fried rice in Asian restaurants and cooked the rice inside a whole pomelo fruit. It came with a ritual: she filled up our bowls with the rice, then placed a pinch of crunchy garlic and annatto-colored chicken fat. This was utterly complex despite being just a rice dish, and it seems no one else can do it like her, so this one will just be a pleasant memory.
She followed this up with another chicken dish, one she called Rebels’ Chicken. This was a Katipunero recipe, when the Filipinos rebelling against Spanish rule went to the mountains to hide from their enemies. The chicken was cooked inside a banana trunk, but we doubt the Katipuneros had her style: the chicken was wrapped and stuffed with herbs like galangal and served with a sauce of muscovado syrup and patis (fish sauce). Despite its rustic origins, this chicken tasted elegant; just like the Hiplog (Hipon and Itlog; shrimp and egg, like a Salted Egg Shrimp) that followed it.
THE LECHON
She wouldn’t be the Lechon Diva without a lechon. A long table was set up in front of ours, and we couldn’t shake off the image of an altar, our host serving as High Priestess of Pork. The lechon was laid out in front of her, which she cut. The lechon was stuffed with Binagoongan (pork cooked in shrimp paste) rice, each element guiding each other. The whole roast pig got the saltiness of its stuffing, the stuffing got the pig’s juic-es. Known in the city and in elegant circles for her truffle rice-stuffed lechon, this Binagoongan version used the recipe from the very first lechon she made.
There was another silence while the guests nibbled. There were only a few noises made after: to ask for seconds (and thirds) and a rude burp (sorry) from this reporter, when Ms. De la Fuente asked if we had a good time. The burp was enough of an answer, and she was pleased. We had called a dinner earlier this year as the best we’ve had, but this degustation blows it out of the water.
Ms. De la Fuente told us in an interview how she started with lechon: she cooked all her life, but really wanted to learn how to make lechon. “I never planned to make it a business. I have friends, and I just loved having them over, because I’m an only child.”
Ms. Aspiras held lechon classes back then, but circumstances always delayed Ms. De la Fuente’s enrollment. Finally, Ms. Aspiras gave in: “Ang kulit mo daw eh (you were so persistent),” Ms. De la Fuente remembers her saying. She stuffed her lechon with rice in case she failed: that way, she’d still have something to eat. But it didn’t fail, and after getting local fame at Our Awesome Planet’s Ultimate Taste Test, and then getting “Tastiest Dish in Asia” from the Chowzter website in London, everybody wanted a piece of her.
She remembers an uncle who used to tease her about her weight: “Napabayaan ka na naman sa kusina (you were left alone in the kitchen again).” Years later, after all the praise and fame, she saw that uncle again. She told him, “Kita niyo? Iyong napabayaan sa kusina, sikat na ngayon (See? I was left alone in the kitchen, and now I’m famous).”
On a serious note, she said, “Never hold back. Opportunities come once in a lifetime. If you let it pass, it’s gone forever.”
She talked about her training: she’s made a name for herself despite not going to some stuffy school. “Not being taught by say, a French school — it has its gifts too. It makes the flavors that we home cooks make, different. It’s like we cook from the heart.”
Even her love of lechon comes from this heart: “Lechon is the food that is always happy — you only have it when it’s a celebration.”
The Lechon Diva can be contacted at @lechon_diva on Instagram for catering, private dining, lechon, or this degustation. — Joseph L. Garcia
