IN the middle of the 1950’s, before the advent of plastic bags and pancit in a bilao, my mother would shuck off her doctor-whites for colored civvies, hie to nearby Divisoria market, haggle with fishwives and bring me home from a weekly treat that was to etch itself into my psyche.

Hastily ladled into a swatch of young banana leaf, mixed with freshly made garnishings and finally wrapped with an old spread from the popular weekly Liwayway magazine, this take-out formed my Saturday afternoon delight. Partnered with putong-puti, pancit luglug palengke-style was more than comfort food. These days, my Kapampangan relations would be partial to the spelling “luglug,” while my Bulakenyo cousins would favor “luglog.” Whatever the spelling, my taste buds didn’t mind. It was not only fiesta food; it was a taste of heaven.

On occasion, I would traipse ahead of my mother the narrowed sidewalks of Tabora on the way to our favorite luglug stall. I would wait with growing impatience for our turn to have our set of noodles soaked (“niluglog” in Pilipino) in boiling water, drained and served in its own special sauce with slices of boiled egg, squid, shelled boiled shrimps, shredded tinapa and mashed chicharon and sprinkled with green onion leaves. My childhood, fish-market version luglug had pale-looking shrimp sauce, slightly thickened with cornstarch. In my haste, I would forget the optional seasoning of patis and calamansi and immediately dive into my bounty.

In the next decade, my expanding culinary education would include encounters with pancit Malabon and pancit palabok, akin in taste to my luglug yet now atchuete-colored and richer-flavored. I would wonder what ever happened to my pancit luglug of yore, especially after a fire had razed Divisoria market, and still after my mother had moved to Elysian fields lined with pancit. Perhaps I would need to revisit my Tondo of yore and walk to familiar territory.

My unbridled curiosity would also lead to a look at culinary experts’ histories and opinions about the merienda repast pancit luglug, Malabon and palabok.

Classical Luglug and variations

According to Lifestyle editor Chelo Banal-Formoso, “Pancit Luglug is the Kapampangan’s variation on the shrimp-based pancit theme (the Tagalogs have Pancit Malabon or Palabok).” A Pampango restaurant’s version that she tried “is a bed of bihon topped with shrimp-flavored red gravy, bits of seafood, fried garlic, ground prawn crackers, tinapa flakes, fried tofu, chopped scallions, sliced boiled egg and fresh camias. The thin slices of camias, their crunchiness and tartness mixed with the salty red sauce, make the Luglug special for me.”

Like most of us, Banal-Formoso waxes nostalgic with luglug. “We used to eat pancit just like this for merienda when both my mother and I were younger.”

Nancy Reyes-Lumen also traces her memories of luglog: “The way pancit luglog was made in my grandparents’ restaurant, the Aristocrat, in the 1950’s was to pound the heads of hundreds of shrimps to make the richly flavored base for the sauce. Then the sauce was thickened – not with flour, never, never! – with beaten duck egg. The now sunset-colored sauce was intensified with achuete oil. Tinapa, chicharon, green onion leaves, garlic, and shrimp and sliced duck eggs made the pancit’s crowning glory. It was like eating spoonfuls of thick, milky, nutty butter, with flavors from the sea and freshened by the onion leaves. Dining on pancit luglog has never felt as decadent since.”

Classical Malabon and variations

Food writer Micky Fenix, in a trip to Malabon, wasn’t surprised “to see several pancit Malabon eateries declaring themselves as the ‘original,’” concluding that a good invention has many mothers. Veteran Malabon maker Inday related to her that the old way of preparing pancit Malabon “had no palabok, just the sahog cooked in oil rendered from pork fat and colored reddish with annatto (achuete).”

Reyes-Lumen describes how pancit Malabon is made. “It uses fat rice noodles that are first niluluglog. The noodles are tossed in a rich shrimp-achuete oil and topped with the freshest, fattest newly shelled oysters, squid rings, suaje or hipong puti (sweet-tasting shrimps) just out of the water, and wansoy leaves.”

Innovations have centered on enhancing the palatability of Malabon’s sauce. Some claim their secret in their use of pork: minced pork, cubed pork fat, chopped ulo ng baboy or pork tongue for added flavor. Sun-dried fish substitutes for smoked fish or tinapa in certain presentations, and duck for chicken eggs. Pechay and celery leaves also make their presence felt. One maker thickens her sangkap with cassava.
Still another Malabon expert has one caveat when selecting ingredients: chicharon baboy “due to unstable crispiness,” claiming that its crunchiness for a number of hours cannot hold, especially for those who prefer to eat the pancit late; “the more you delay, the less crispiness you will get.”

Classical Palabok and variations

Malabon natives claim that palabok is derived from pancit Malabon. Malabon townsfolk experimented with Chinese noodles, adding their own concoction called palabok, using all the available sea foods at their disposal. Neighbors who had tasted it became curious and from then on experimented with their own palabok.

Fenix, researching on palabok in Bulacan, came upon one whose “basic sauce has some flavoring from either broth or shrimp juice thickened with flour or egg and colored by annatto.” The coup d’grace, which “adds more impact to the flavor, and probably also to the arteries,” was achieved “by mixing in pig’s brain. The oil on top of the sauce in the pot was proof of that richness.”

Another palabok adventure for Fenix “started with boiled bihon,” to which were “added ground black pepper, fried garlic, shrimps that had been fried, colored with annatto and then ground. The palabok sauce was poured over all that then topped with shredded tinapa.” Fenix saw another layer of bihon added. “The next step in the assembly line made us all gasp—liquid fat poured on top of all that.”

After adding patis, calamansi juice and pepper, the palabok’s final topping was chicharong bigas, rice fried in sheets then cracked into small pieces.

A foodie’s analysis of similarities and differences

Luglug, Malabon and palabok use noodles that are dipped in boiling water for hydration and drained. The three pancit types use sauce ingredients that are almost the same. All three now make standard use of achuete to give the pancit its characteristic orange color.

Differences exist, though, in mixing styles. The sauce for both luglug and palabok is poured on the noodles after mixing, and served. On the other hand, Malabon’s noodles are tossed in the pan with the sauce, with liberal use of cooking oil.

Whenever the subject of luglug, Malabon and palabok is raised, discussion veers to Pampango and Tagalog cooking. Luglug has been either attributed to, or claimed by, the Pampangos. Malabon and palabok, on the other hand, are tagged part of Tagalog cuisine.
Your choice among pancit luglug, Malabon or palabok? I wouldn’t be surprised, if like me, you reply, “Not one in particular. Can I get all of the above?”