Piayanggang Manok and the Soul of Mindanao

By Noel Galon de Leon

The moment our plane touched down at Zamboanga International Airport, hunger greeted us like an old friend. I was traveling with our Dean, Sir Pete, and my colleagues from the Division of Professional Education, Sir Dominique, Sir Rene, and Ma’am Let-let. We were on our way to Mindanao State University in Tawi-Tawi to give lectures on Civic Education for the YouthLed initiative of UP Visayas. After checking in, our stomachs refused to be ignored. We stepped out of the airport in search of something to eat and, as if guided by fate or sheer appetite, followed the irresistible aroma of coconut milk and spices that lingered in the air. It led us to a small eatery just outside the airport, the kind of place you might easily overlook if not for that inviting scent. And there, waiting for us, was Piayanggang Manok.

It was love at second sight. The chicken glistened with a dark, oily sauce that steamed gently under the fluorescent light. The smell of grilled coconut and ginger filled the air, instantly stirring memories of my first encounter with this Tausug delicacy years ago. Piayanggang Manok, I realized once more, is not merely food. It is a story told through fire and coconut, a reflection of a people’s spirit and history.

My Tausug friends once explained that piayanggang refers to a method of cooking in which chicken is simmered in coconut milk, then blended with grated coconut that has been grilled until nearly charred. The result is a dish that is both smoky and creamy, rich yet refined. It does not taste like adobo or curry, because it isn’t trying to. It carries its own identity, one that feels deeply rooted in the soil, sea, and soul of Mindanao.

From what I have learned through years of travel and conversation, Piayanggang Manok originated among the Tausug communities of the Sulu Archipelago in Southern Philippines. Long before colonial influences arrived, the Tausug had already formed a distinct way of life shaped by faith, nature, and family. Coconut trees lined their shores, providing food, shelter, and sustenance, while Islam inspired a sense of intention and purity in every meal. The coconut milk in Piayanggang Manok speaks of abundance, and the smoky flavor from the grilled coconut represents gratitude to the Creator for the blessings of food and life. This dish is often served during weddings, Eid celebrations, and family gatherings. It is reserved for people who are dearly valued, a culinary expression of honor and affection.

When my spoon finally met my mouth, the first taste reminded me why this dish deserves to be celebrated. The coconut milk coated the tongue in velvety richness, followed by a gentle warmth that lingered just enough to awaken the senses. Then came the deep smokiness from the grilled coconut, mysterious and grounding, like a whisper from the old islands of Sulu.

In the study of culture, food is memory. Every dish holds the knowledge of generations who perfected it through time and necessity. Piayanggang Manok is a perfect example. It requires patience and precision. The chicken must be tender but never dry. The coconut milk must reduce to the right consistency. The grated coconut must be grilled long enough to bring out its flavor but not so much that it turns bitter. Each step demands care and respect, values that the Tausug hold dear.

Across the Philippines, every region tells its story through food. Yet Piayanggang Manok stands apart, not just because of its unique taste but also its striking black color. In other cuisines, black may suggest overcooking, but to the Tausug, it symbolizes depth, strength, and authenticity. It mirrors Mindanao itself, a land often misunderstood but filled with wisdom and beauty once you take the time to know it.

To me, Piayanggang Manok is more than a Tausug dish. It is a symbol of unity in diversity, a flavorful bridge connecting islands, faiths, and families. Each bite feels like an invitation to understand a culture that has always been part of our national identity yet too often remains in the margins. Food like this reminds us that gastronomy is not only about taste but also about memory, belonging, and shared humanity.

As I finished my plate, I found myself smiling. We had been welcomed to Mindanao not just with open arms but with open hearts and a meal that spoke of home, heritage, and hope. Piayanggang Manok was more than lunch that day. It was a beginning—a delicious introduction to the stories and traditions that make Mindanao one of the richest cultural landscapes in the country.