FROM PANAHID TO PLATE: The Gastronomic Treasures of Guibongan

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By Romyleen B. Mitra

The coastal village of Barangay Guibongan in Miagao, Iloilo, holds a treasure trove of memories that vividly linger in my mind.

Nestled along the serene shores of this fishing village, Brgy. Guibongan shaped my understanding of food, family, and community.

Growing up, I was enchanted by the simple yet profound beauty of life by the sea.

Our village came alive during panahid, the traditional communal act of catching fish that transformed our shoreline into a lively festival.

Several large wooden boats called sahid, each manned by three to five fishermen, would row out to sea and cast their nets into the shimmering waters.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the atmosphere buzzed with excitement and friendly competition.

Each sahid had its own crew, and families gathered on the beach, often supporting teams based on kinship or friendship.

Children played along the shoreline, their laughter infectious as we waited for the catch.

When the fishermen signaled from the water, we eagerly grabbed the ropes and worked together to pull the enormous nets toward the shore.

It was a festive sight, with sounds of camaraderie echoing as people encouraged each other while anticipating the bounty of the sea.

Linabog, Tinuom, Sinugba and Bisaya nga Manok

The catch of the night was more than food—it was a celebration of community and connection.

The aroma of freshly caught fish grilling over an open flame drew us closer to the table, where ancestral stories blended with the rich flavors of homemade dishes.

My grandmother’s recipes were masterpieces, each dish a warm expression of her love and artistry.

One of my favorites was tinuom nga marugbas (steamed silverfish), made with freshly washed marugbas seasoned with salt, chopped onion leaves, and a touch of vetsin (MSG), then wrapped in banana leaves and cooked slowly over fire for 20 minutes.

Simple yet exquisite, the dish allowed the natural flavors to shine.

Another beloved recipe was my Lola Sabel’s linabog nga pagi (stewed stingray), which my father often said was the best in all of Guibongan.

She first boiled the pagi in vinegar and guava leaves to eliminate any langsa (fishy smell), then grilled it, cubed it, sautéed it with onions, and simmered it with salt, spices, lemongrass, and achuete (annatto).

Coconut milk was added last, letting the flavors meld into a rich, flavorful stew.

Another highlight was Bisaya nga manok adobo (native chicken), simmered in soy sauce, vinegar, garlic, and spices.

Its savory aroma filled the house, and my mother always made sure to prepare it whenever I came home.

She would ask how many native chickens she should buy, her excitement a sure sign of love.

Then there was the joy of sinugba nga aloy (grilled skipjack tuna), simply seasoned with salt and grilled over hot coals.

Its smoky aroma and charred edges were a comforting reminder of our connection to the sea.

Food as Bridge

As I reflect on those days, I see how they shaped not just my palate, but my appreciation for culinary traditions that ground us in our heritage.

The UNESCO Creative City of Gastronomy recognition for our city is not just a nod to our cuisine—it is a celebration of the stories, laughter, and love woven into every dish.

Food became a bridge connecting generations, cultures, and shared memories.

In Guibongan, the spirit of bayanihan was evident in how families helped each other share the day’s catch.

The beach was a hub of laughter and conversation, with neighbors swapping updates and friendly tsismis (gossip).

“Uy, ang bata ni Purisima, na-promote na Kapitan sa barko!”

“Who’s going overseas?”

“Who’s pregnant?”

These everyday exchanges added warmth and familiarity to every gathering.

I recall my college days in Iloilo, when my brother Junjun would drive 40 kilometers to Guibongan after class with his friends, just to enjoy freshly caught aloy grilled to perfection.

Paired with Red Horse or Gold Eagle beer, it was pure joy.

As the sun set and the stars appeared, those moments felt like heaven, full of laughter and friendship.

Today, the flavors of home remain vivid, waiting to be relived.

For those of us living abroad, the craving for sinugba nga aloy or linabog nga pagi brings excitement and longing.

Each bite is more than just taste—it’s a memory, a story, and a piece of home.

As we search for these culinary treasures, we rediscover our roots and honor the Ilonggo spirit.

Food is more than sustenance.

It is a celebration of our heritage, a bridge to the past, and a reminder that the bonds we build around the table will always bring us back home to Guibongan.