The General asked if we were hungry, said he knew this place an hour away that served good carabao soup. Do I dare? I asked myself. And then: Why the heck not? Much as I love the food at Ocho, it didn’t hurt to sample traditional Waray fare.
We were in Tacloban, I to renew my passport, the General (retired) and his wife to make good on their pledge to donate a TV and projector set to one of the city’s public schools. Both done with, we only had lunch to take care of before heading back home. The eatery was five towns away, in Abuyog, familiar to me only as the hometown of my feisty Tita Julie (she’s unafraid to lock horns with anyone). It took us quite some time to locate the eatery, and then only after the General conceded that we had probably missed it and decided to ask LEYECO personnel doing maintenance work roadside.
I used the word “eatery” because I wasn’t really sure what sort of kan-anan we would end up in (the word is generic Bisaya for any place serving food). It was actually a carinderia, and, glancing at the food on display, one that I would have no trouble passing over for some other joint up (or down) the road. “What’s this?” I said, pointing to a dark pile of meat coated with soy-flecked oil. “Carabao steak.” “And this?” “Carabao mechado.” So it went, until I arrived at a pile that looked familiar. “Don’t tell me this is carabao, too.” “No, sir, that’s humba.”
But we were there for damned carabao, so we ordered several servings of each carabao dish. Apparently, Warays prefer carabao meat (or carabeef) over cow beef. This is also true in other parts of the country¹ (Pangasinan and Nueva Ecija in Luzon come to mind). And just so I don’t come across as ignorant, I must mention that carabao meat is popular in our part of Leyte Island as well. “The difference,” the General explained. “is that we mostly only eat kabaw that have outlived their usefulness.” — read: old and tough — “The Warays, on the other hand, distinguish between draft animals and those meant for consumption, raising them accordingly.”²
Fair enough, but I hoped they aren’t too busy tending to food-grade kabaw to remember something integral to cooking it. There was nary a trace of spice in the bistek and mechado, or vegetable in the soup — all featured carabao meat front and center, left and right, over and under, through and through. Refer to the pictures if you think that’s hyperbole. At least the meat was not tough (or gamey), no more than beef is (it was even leaner). And the place was clean and airy.
But I’m rationalizing. Let’s just say the food did not whelm my reservations regarding carabao meat.³ I belatedly asked for some humba, also similarly devoid of spices, and yet it was a few notches better than some restaurant versions I had tasted. Which had me thinking: If it could be that tasty sans the usual arsenal of spices, I may yet have a chance at this elusive dish! Or was I just hungry?
Still, I wasn’t sorry I passed up lunch at Ocho for a mildly frustrating one at Ruthlix Eatery. Lord knows I don’t take too many culinary detours without some prodding. Yes, I had a good time overall. The General and his hubby were good company, and he really did seem happy with the food. I wasn’t going to take that away from (or against) him. It’s not about what you eat, but the pleasure you take from it. Later, he would ask if we should stop for dinner (it had turned out to be a long trip), and I politely said I was still full and could wait until I got home. I was lying. There was nothing waiting for me save Sunflower crackers and leftover canned tuna, but I’ll be damned if that didn’t hit the spot.
¹ Possible reasons: a) carabeef is part of their traditional diet, or considered a delicacy; b) it’s cheaper than beef; c) it’s better than beef, of which taste is only part of the allure, since carabeef is also said to have 40% less cholesterol, 55% less calories, 12% less fat, and more protein and minerals (Ideas Galore offers more reasons, but sadly no references); or d) a combination of some (or all) of the above. «
² The Warays’ love for carabao meat perhaps explains why, as of 2010, there were more carabaos in Region 8 (Eastern Visayas) than in any other region of the Philippines, or 10.55% of the national carabao population (around 30,000 heads of cattle). (Source: Philippine Carabao Center)
The practice of slaughtering only old or “retired” carabaos was the result of an on-again, off-again law (currently off, although there are calls to revive it) that prohibited butchering carabao unless it was at least 7 years old (if male) or 11 (if female). «
³ If you have reservations of your own, you might want to consider that local corned beef (or that pack of “beefy” hotdogs) contains way more carabeef (or “buffalo meat,” as the industry prefers to call it) than actual beef. From a PCIJ report quote: “(I)n international categorization, beef is defined as meat from either cattle or buffalo.” «
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