Pork face salad is a bizarre reason to travel 90 minutes for. Everyone else goes to Baybay for barbecue. I am, of course, referring to those joints that once lined the pier there, some of which, like Alcuino’s,* have found a permanent home along 30 de Deciembre Street. The story goes that they use a milk marinade, although my new friend Cocoy insists that it has more to do with the meat being only the freshest and that definitely doesn’t hurt — it even ties in nicely with the kilawin.
To be honest, I grab every opportunity to get the parents out of the house and myself out of the kitchen. Besides, the barbecue is really good. Never mind that my isol (chicken butt) was undercooked last time we were there, it wasn’t what I had come for. Boiled, grilled, and “cooked” one last time in vinegar (hence the peculiar designation of kilawin or ceviche), the pig face dish has a best-of-everything vibe, including lean meat and marbled fat. As with any salad, it is best enjoyed on its own, no rice. Who needs barbecue? (Well, maybe I’ll have that wing over there…)
“Why can’t we have barbecue like this at home?” my father had mused. By “home” I assume he means the Maasin barbecue plaza, which he has only experienced through take-out. As for the kilawin, I doubt if there is much of a secret there. Take properly cleaned maskara (pig face), boil until near really tender, allowing for some measure of chewiness, grill over hot coals, slice into strips, then throw in a lot of spices and steep in seasoned vinegar. I mean to have a go at the dish one of these days, then I can move on to the bulaló (beef soup); I hear it’s killer.
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