Intentional eating has long been associated with choosing healthier food. But perhaps the more important kind of intentional eating is remembering the stories behind what nourishes us — the dishes that fed generations before us, the recipes our grandmothers measured by instinct instead of teaspoons and the meals that became part of who we are.
That was exactly what NUSTAR Resort Cebu accomplished with its Taste Cebu: Heirloom Culinary Gallery on Thursday, July 9, and Friday, July 10, 2026.
Rather than presenting Cebuano cuisine as a buffet of familiar favorites, the experience unfolded like a guided walk through history. Curated under the guidance of Cebu food historian Louella “Loy” Eslao-Alix and inspired by her landmark book, “Hikay: The Culinary Heritage of Cebu,” the four-gallery food crawl traced the evolution of Cebuano cooking — from its earliest roots to the possibilities of its future.
Every gallery was intentionally paced. Guests spent about 10 to 15 minutes in each room, tasting six carefully selected dishes before moving on to the next chapter.
Returning to our roots
After a short listening session, the doors opened with one simple instruction from food guide PG Guba: close your eyes and imagine Cebu before colonization.
It wasn’t difficult. Images from history books surfaced almost instinctively. Then came the question: What did early Cebuanos eat?
The answer came in three familiar cooking methods: sugba, tuwa and kilaw.
The dishes reflected that simplicity. Kinilaw na langka opened the tasting with bright, clean flavors, followed by sinugbang nokus paired with fresh mango and tomato salsa that cut through the squid’s natural richness. There was no unnecessary embellishment.
As Tita Loy explained, many of these recipes required little intervention. They relied on fresh ingredients rather than complicated techniques.
The gallery continued with tinuwa nga manok, inun-unan made from lamon-lamon fish and adobong pina-uga, each demonstrating how practical early Cebuano cooking truly was and until now.
Then came timke. A dish many of us had never encountered before, timke exists today largely because it was documented in “Hikay.” Experiencing it outside the pages of a book felt less like trying a forgotten recipe and more like reviving a piece of Cebu’s culinary memory.
A sip of fresh buko juice cleansed the palate before the next chapter.
The taste of home
The second gallery felt instantly familiar.
If the first room belonged to our ancestors, this one belonged to our mothers, grandmothers and titas — the women who somehow never followed recipes yet always managed to cook beautiful, flavorful meals every single time.
The smell of the room alone felt like coming home.
Pochero Cebuano, utan Bisaya, adobong manok Bisaya, paklay, ginamay and mechado lined each station. They’re dishes found almost everywhere in Cebu, yet tasting them in this setting reminded me why they’re so enduring.
No matter how refined the presentation became, every spoonful somehow found its way back to childhood kitchens and dining tables where meals were shared without occasion.
A feast worth celebrating
By the third gallery, celebration took over.
Tita Loy noted that while Chinese influence shaped many everyday Cebuano dishes through lighter flavors and medicinal cooking, Spanish influence became most apparent during fiestas.
After all, elaborate cooking wasn’t something families could afford to do every day.
Morcon, embutido and empanada naturally filled the room, but the centerpiece was the beautifully lit lechon, crowned with hanging rice bundles. It was joined by guso salad, balbacua and bam-e, the beloved Cebuano noodle dish that perfectly marries bihon and canton.
One surprise was tamaus, Cebu’s version of tamales, another heirloom recipe that could have easily disappeared had it not been documented.
Desserts closed the feast with pintos, masi, langka turon and the street favorite, shololot, made of mixed chopped fruits in condensed milk.
Looking ahead
The final gallery posed perhaps the most exciting question: What does the future of Cebuano cuisine look like?
Executive chef Martin Rebolledo and his team answered without abandoning tradition because they treated heritage as a foundation rather than a limitation.
A kinilaw bar paired bright acidity with refreshing sorbet, creating an unexpected contrast that somehow still honored the essence of the original dish.
The playful interpretation of pungko-pungko transformed familiar street food into elegant bites — from blue crab croquettes and deviled eggs to roasted pork belly nigiri and stuffed phoenix claws. It was familiar enough to recognize, yet inventive enough to spark curiosity about where Cebuano cuisine can go next.
Perhaps the most memorable station was Papel de Arroz de Pintados. A chef sat before edible rice paper as though painting on canvas. Using squid ink, curry, cream sauce and fillings inspired by mechado, adobo and dinuguan, each sheet became a tribute to the tattooed Pintados warriors of the Visayas. Watching the artwork come together was one thing. Discovering that the edible “canvas” actually tasted good was another.
Desserts continued the spirit of reinvention, from the whimsical cotton candy-wrapped barbecue to mango misu and modern takes on tagaktak. Even the drinks reflected Cebuano identity, incorporating local flavors like tuba and bauhinia into each gallery’s pairing.
I couldn’t help but laugh to myself. Had my father been there, the drink station would probably have been his favorite stop in every room.
By the end of the crawl, intentional eating became an act of remembrance. Rather than merely filling plates, the gallery filled gaps in our understanding of Cebu’s culinary identity.
Documenting heirloom food has become just as important as cooking it. As Tita Loy often says, “Tagamtama ang Cebu.” And that’s exactly what the experience encouraged us to do: not simply eat Cebuano food, but savor the stories that have kept it alive through generations. S