Comfort food is often our mothers’ food, the dishes we crave in times of joy and in despair. For a diasporic population far from their mothers’ tables, whether new immigrants or first, second or third generation, cultural cuisine serves as the tether to their motherland. It’s the bridge that connects family and culture in Canada, a nation of immigrants. While poutine is considered the quintessential national dish, our cuisine reflects the mosaic of our population; bannock, tourtière and ketchup chips join perogies, jollof rice, kebabs and phō in our culinary profile. Food is home. 

But there can be growing pains. As a child, I was teased for eating fried Spam, accused of eating dog food. I then refused to eat my mother’s cooking. I wanted to be “normal” and eat fish sticks and fries. My exception was her pancit, which I had reasoned was the Filipino version of chow mein with vegetables, chicken and rice noodles tossed in soy sauce and garlicky broth. I rediscovered Filipino food as an adult with a new appreciation for its savoury-sour aromatics.

In the Philippines, Chef Gerome worked his way from dish washer to head chef of a Chinese restaurant. When he immigrated to Canada, he worked in a hotel kitchen catering banquets. After buying Salakot, he and his wife, Princess, ran the restaurant with a few of the original staff. He crafted new recipes, distilling the menu down to popular dishes that sold out daily. By 2022, the restaurant was successful enough to invest $400,000 to upgrade the space to match the commercial kitchens where Chef Gerome had paid his dues. Only then did he proudly add “Ger” to the restaurant’s name.

We choose a variety of dishes from Ger Salakot’s menu: sweet and sour fish fillets with peppers; sisig, minced pork jowls; dinakdakan, chopped pork topped with red onions, chilies and lemon; lechon kawali, deep fried pork belly; and their best-selling kare-kare, beef and tripe in peanut sauce served with house-made bagoong, fermented seafood paste.

As I stand at the Ger Salakot counter, I point to the pancit that resembles my mother’s version. April, our photographer, orders sinigang, pork and cabbage tamarind soup, a dish my mother cooked weekly. For dessert, I get kutsinta, an orange mochi-like rice cake topped with shredded coconut, one of my mother’s go-to potluck dishes. 

Our group take turns sharing their favourite Filipino dishes. Hazel Venzon and David Oro, a married couple and founders of multimedia production company UNIT Productions, go first. Hazel recalls her aunt’s ginataang langka, jackfruit and shrimp in coconut milk. “I was surprised that jackfruit pulled like meat,” she says. This was long before unripe jackfruit had become a vegan staple. David says kare-kare is his favourite dish because “the flavour is so uniquely Filipino,” referring to its savoury funk. 

Instagram food blogger Denice Cayetano (@wpgfoodlovers) strives to serve Filipino food to her children, Octavia and Ozias, modestly saying, “I cook simple things like sinigang or tinola,” yet these “simple” tamarind and ginger soups are the foods that will bind her children to their culture, reminding them of family and home.