Seafood Dishes That Define My Filipino-American Identity
It’s November, so the sun sets at 4:00PM. I rush into the family minivan upset at the already darkening sky, I hate winter in Portland. Shedding my school uniform and wriggling into the warmest sweats and socks I can find I gloomily stare out at the flat, gray evening. Then I smell it, a scent that instantly makes my mouth water. It’s sharp notes of vinegar and tamarind, rounded out with bright simmering veggies: purple eggplant, translucent upo (white gourd), juicy red tomatoes, green long beans, and the crown of it all – fatty, bright orange salmon. Sinigang, a sour, veggie-laden broth often paired with rich protein. One of the most comforting dishes from my childhood.
Salmon sinigang we enjoyed this past Thanksgiving made at my great aunt's home in Washington.
All images, Kaycey Bui.
Food as Remembering - Salmon sinigang
Sinigang is a highly regional dish throughout the Philippines, with the protein and veggies varying depending on what is found locally. The binding factor being the tart, maasim, tamarind-based broth in which all the ingredients are stewed. Sinigang also has its various regional takes in the US. Salmon sinigang traces back to Filipino cannery workers who would take home the heads, tails, and other offcuts to add to their own version of the dish.
Diasporic Fil-Ams (Filipino-Americans) spread across the country, like other immigrant communities, sought to recreate familiar flavors with new local ingredients. In SoCal, beef ribs are a common protein. In the south, okra, collard greens, and shrimp pair effortlessly. A story of immigration simmered down into a bowl of soup. In coming to understand what being Fil-Am means to me, I began to recognize food as remembering, food as adaptation, food as a representation of identity itself.
Food as Connection - Sardine kinilaw
In an attempt to chase that elusive Fil-Am identity, I joined the Peace Corps in 2017 and was placed in the southern region of the Philippines, Catmon, Cebu. My main task was to support the local fishing collectives throughout the town alongside the local government.
I would occasionally go out on the bangka (traditional outrigger fishing boat) to help assess the local reefs. On the way back from one of these assessments a mananagat, fisherman, pulled his boat up alongside ours and offered us a bag full of sardines he had just pulled in, sharing in his good fortune. As we chatted, boats alongside one another, my work partner taught me how to filet the fish simply with our thumb and forefingers, pulling out the bloodline and discarding it back in the water. Another in our boat went to fetch vinegar, shallot, chili pepper, ginger, and calamansi – a local tart citrus.
Once we returned to the shore with our freshly cleaned catch, we quickly chopped and combined the ingredients, letting the fish quickly cure in the vinegar and citrus. It was makeshift, coming together quickly, almost haphazardly, with pocket knives and ingredients on hand, and it was the most delicious kinilaw I’ve ever had. I took a moment to wonder at the bayanihan, community, that bloomed in that simple meal. Food, direct from our shores, shared unquestioningly between hands that all work to hold the collective higher.
Trying lobster ginataang with grandma and my parents at THDM.
The sardines that were gifted to us.
Sardine kinilaw alongside another local seafood, lato, sea grapes seaweed which is gathered by hand along the shore.
Food as Understanding - Ginataang ulang
When I returned from the Philippines in 2019, I continued to seek out those pockets of community. I began a program at Scripps Institution of Oceanography focusing on marine conservation and became more familiar with the Tuna Harbor Dockside Market, a San Diego fishermen-led collective.
I learned that they started selling fish heads and other offcuts because so many Asian-American customers, like the opportunistic Fil-Am cannery workers in Alaska, recognized their value as a nutritious and comforting ingredient. I wanted to share this place with my grandma, who often brought me to “pick out a good fish” from the Asian markets growing up. Although, it did take a little convincing since she had to come all the way from Oceanside.
We happened to attend during Spiny Lobsterfest and go to try Fil-Am chef Marcus’ take on lobster ginataang. Like sinigang, ginataang describes the way the protein is cooked, stewed in a coconut milk base rather than a sour, tamarind one. I distinctly remember my grandma saying “I never thought I would eat something like this in my life”. She experienced a new take on Filipino food that brought together heritage flavors and local fish, exactly what I was focusing my studies on at the time. Food as understanding.
Food as Community
I planned to bring my grandma to the North County Fisherman’s Market , much closer to her home, though sadly, she passed before it opened. But I think of all the mga apo (grandparents) and relatives in this part of San Diego that now have access to a fish market of their own, familiar in some way to the ones that they grew up visiting. It is so important to have these spaces exist. Not only to support the livelihood of local fishermen, but to give opportunity to our communities to build connections with their food sources and to one another.
Food as Identity
Salmon sinigang, sardine kinilaw, and spiny lobster ginataang. Each dish holds a story, a legacy of ancestral hands adding ingredients and reinterpreting recipes. Despite being divided by oceans, language barriers, and generations, these meals have connected me deeply to my roots and helped me uncover pride in myself, my upbringing, and my Fil-Am identity. I encourage you to explore your own cultural identity in this way too. Though it may seem daunting, the first step towards deeper understanding might just be by taking a first bite.
References and Links:
Filipino cannery workers (article)
Peace Corps (video)
Bayanihan (definition)
Focusing my studies (MAS-MBC Storymap)
Meet the Author
Kaycey Bui
Kaycey (she/they) has always been drawn to conservation work and is inspired by the relationship between people, the environment, and its ties to personal identity. She has worked across California in outdoor environmental education, supported local fishing communities in the Philippines, and done research on San Diego seafood systems.
Kaycey received a Masters of Advanced Studies degree at Scripps Institution of Oceanography and now works as an Environmental Scientist for CalRecycle. Find Kaycey on Instagram @kaybuibuibui.
