Pinikpikan and the misunderstanding of indigenous culture in the digital age
The 2024 list of “Worst-Rated Filipino Foods” by Taste Atlas, which includes pinikpikan, has stirred strong reactions, particularly from the Cordillera Administrative Region. Pinikpikan, a dish deeply rooted in Cordilleran culture, symbolizes much more than just food—it embodies community, heritage, and ritual. Dismissing it as one of the “worst” dishes based on superficial taste evaluations reflects a broader misunderstanding of indigenous practices.
Pinikpikan is traditionally prepared by gently beating the chicken, a ritual believed to enhance the flavor through the bruising of the meat. While this may seem shocking to some, it is an ancient tradition tied to community gatherings and ceremonies, not cruelty. The dish, often cooked with etag—a smoked, cured pork—has a distinct flavor that resonates deeply with those who grew up with it. For many Cordillerans, pinikpikan is far more than sustenance; it is a marker of shared history, spirituality, and identity. To reduce it to an entry on a worst-food list trivializes its cultural significance.
A key issue lies in how Taste Atlas compiles its lists. Of the 6,250 ratings considered, only some were filtered as “genuine.” This raises a fundamental question: who are these evaluators? Are they aware of the cultural context behind the dish, or are they relying on brief impressions and unfamiliar palates? If only those outside a culture judge its cuisine, many indigenous dishes worldwide would likely be similarly misunderstood and undervalued.
Taste is inherently subjective. Dishes like pinikpikan, with its robust flavors and ritualistic preparation, may not appeal to those unfamiliar with Cordilleran culture. But that doesn’t make it objectively “bad.” Many who grew up with the dish describe it as an acquired but beloved taste, central to family meals and celebrations. Labeling it as “worst-rated” overlooks the deeply personal and cultural connections that locals have with the dish.
In today’s era of heightened cultural sensitivity, platforms like Taste Atlas must be careful when critiquing foods with indigenous roots. While ranking dishes based on taste is one thing, doing so without understanding the cultural background risks reinforcing negative stereotypes and perpetuating prejudice. With its global reach, Taste Atlas should have considered the broader implications of labeling cultural foods as the “worst.”
In the Cordillera region, food transcends its role as nourishment. It is steeped in ritual, community, and history. The Cordillerans’ connection to pinikpikan, along with other cultural dishes, shouldn’t be judged by outsiders who lack the lived experience to appreciate its significance. Unfortunately, indigenous communities are often excluded from conversations that shape these kinds of rankings. It’s not that Cordillerans wouldn’t want to share their perspective; it’s more that their voices are seldom heard in these mainstream discussions.
Another critical issue raised is the use of the term “tribes” when describing Cordilleran people. In an academic sense, “tribe” is an outdated and problematic term in the Philippine context, as indigenous communities in the Cordillera don’t trace their lineage to a single ancestor, as some traditional tribes do. However, some have embraced the term as part of their identity, while others reject it due to its colonial associations with backwardness and savagery. When using this term, care must be taken to avoid reinforcing harmful stereotypes that have historically been used to marginalize indigenous peoples.
This incident raises a deeper question: how do we ensure that indigenous cultures are respected and understood in a world where digital lists and rankings can reach global audiences in seconds? Is it fair for a dish like pinikpikan to be judged out of context by a palate unfamiliar with its cultural significance?
We must remember that food, like culture, is dynamic and ever-evolving. Pinikpikan, like many other indigenous dishes, has adapted over time. Today, many Cordillerans purchase pre-butchered native chickens from the market, forgoing the traditional ritual but still cooking pinikpikan with pride. This doesn’t make it any less authentic—rather, it reflects how traditions can transform while still honoring their roots.
At its core, the debate over pinikpikan isn’t just about taste—it’s about how we engage with cultures different from our own. It’s about recognizing that what may seem strange or unappealing to some carries deep meaning for others. And in our rush to rank and categorize, we must remember to pause and consider the stories behind the food, the words we use, and the judgments we make.
In the end, pinikpikan will remain a cherished dish in the Cordilleran region, regardless of its ranking on any list. But this moment serves as a reminder — especially to those with platforms like Taste Atlas — that cultural understanding must come before critique, and respect for indigenous traditions should always be paramount. – Rappler.com
Mia Magdalena Fokno is a resident of Baguio City, tracing her roots to Sagada and Barlig in Mountain Province. As a proud member of the Kankanaey indigenous community, she is a writer and journalist who focuses on arts, culture, and indigenous rights.