Noodley egg strings of a sea hare. Soft-bodied mollusk from the mangrove. Sunset hues captured by banana skins. The astringent flesh of a fruit with the grooves and ridges of a brain.
It sounds like the toil and trouble of a potion but these curiosities are from Lokalpedia, a digital archive of Philippine ingredients. Each ingredient—from the endangered to the artisanal and the in-between—is the fruit of our land and seas, in testament of our country’s biodiversity and gastronomic heritage. There are over a hundred of them carefully documented on Instagram and Facebook: some appear so foreign you'd marvel how they were discovered to be edible, while others, so familiar, I ask why they’re showcased at all.
In the unending delta of social media content, food is had for aesthetics and attention. Underlying takes after takes on recipes and restaurants from everyone, everywhere is a sameness—a homogenization of taste driven by late-stage capitalism and digital saturation.
Yet Lokalpedia is its own corner of the internet. Or so it appears, but what stories remain untold behind each frame?
The Makings of Lokalpedia
John Sherwin Felix is the sole figure who tends to Lokalpedia. When we met last November, he had just returned from his hometown of San Jose in Occidental Mindoro. Like many Filipino families, Sherwin’s upbringing was steeped in the art of cooking. His mother passed down to him her ways around the kitchen: Use pandan leaves instead of taking the shortcut with extract, the exact tang of kamias or sampaloc was the souring agent of choice.
His love for food intertwined with his passion for societal issues and sectors in the course of his student activism days, especially that of agriculture and workers' rights. Yet, it was the pandemic that catalyzed him from culinary hobbyist to advocate.
In 2021, he began his cooking account, The Banana Leaf Kitchen, as an expression of his love for Philippine cuisine and as a creative outlet. With each classic Filipino dish, regional delicacy, and heirloom recipe he made, he was drawn more and more to its components. He wanted to know their meaning, history, and setting but what references he could find were lacking. What started as an extension of The Banana Leaf Kitchen in 2022, Lokalpedia has taken a life of its own: a repository of ingredients from every corner of the Philippines.
Spoiled for Choice
In a country as biodiverse as ours, Sherwin’s approach to archival is surprisingly simple: The ingredient must resonate with the collective memory of a community, he explains, “Its significance should be deeply embedded in their culture, oral history, and overall identity, irrespective of whether it's native, endemic, or introduced.”
An ingredient that might seem strange in one locale becomes a kitchen staple in another, ignored due to proximity. Lokalpedia makes visible all the ways of life and sustenance in the country.
Sherwin scours the internet and local markets for ingredients to document, but his search often takes him down unexpected paths. Even with months of research prior to his fieldwork, simply asking ‘Kamusta po yung kinakain dito?’ to locals, his list of potential subjects multiplies with many never before documented.
During a trip to Southern Palawan in August 2023, he sought out the endangered red durian, also known as dugyan, only to find even more variations: the orange manakuka and lowad with its ivory-flesh, both meaty with a subtle aroma distinct from the pungency of the common durian. As he continued through the island, he encountered a bounty of other wild fruits, like maraitum, an even sweeter cousin of the rambutan with violet-black skin, and bulno, from the Mangifera genus yet it has notes of guyabano. In Palawan, fruit stalls are filled with pyramids of species from the National List of Threatened Flora.
While navigating the country's last frontier by motorbike, Sherwin was overcome with emotion. In the still-intact forests of Palawan, he caught a glimpse of an idyllic Philippines, a version that has not succumbed to the fate of deforestation and human activity as the rest of the country. In his travels, Sherwin encounters beauty and deep-seated challenges in equal measure.
All those generations of loss—food that disappeared from our fields and palates, flavors forgotten, recipes left unpassed—leave an invisible cavity in our heritage. Doreen Fernandez puts this loss into words in Tikim, a source of inspiration for Lokalpedia, where Eddy Alegre writes: “Eating is language that speaks of the nuances of what we are and all our ties to the community. Eating is making alive the various and variegated conjugations of our lives.”
Food may be ephemeral, but its disappearance means forgetting the fields, seas, and all the hands that tend to the harvest. For Sherwin, Lokalpedia is his way of preserving heritage before more can be lost to memory and mortality, of remembering all the communities that make up our cuisine.
Lessons in Vernacular
While it seems there must be an entire team behind Lokalpedia, it is only Sherwin working behind the scenes. Each post entails hours of research, studying scientific journals and Leonardo Co’s Digital Flora of the Philippines database, consulting food heritage experts and scientists, and hundreds of kilometers of travel.
But he's found company along the way. From Luzon to Visayas, Sherwin has been welcomed into countless homes and barangays in the traditional hospitality of the province, with multiple invitations to share a meal or a ride from strangers.
His interactions are shaped by his regard for the locals as the custodians of their heritage, himself as a student. Even when their practices seem mystifying, their traditions reveal a deeper knowledge of agriculture grounded in science. Rather than chase sensational stories for the sake of content, Sherwin humanizes the conversation, talking about their daily lives and personal stories in turn.
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“I engage with market vendors, cooks, fisherfolk, farmers, artisans—individuals who are seldom given representation. And when they are, they're often in a disempowering manner, robbing them of dignity,” he said.
“When these individuals feel valued and heard, they begin to trust you and then they start meaningful, valuable bonds between you and them. Puro trust talaga, you leave your bias at the door when you go out there. Kasi culture nila ito, sila ang expert. They are the masters of their craft, of their culture.”
The roots of this humility can be traced back to to the earliest entries of Lokalpedia: the humble bagbakong, an edible weed that grows along roadsides in the province. To pay attention to the far-flung and the familiar is a kind of magic. An ingredient—like pokpoklo algae as a salad with the brine and bite of the sea, or binahian leaves you gather from your backyard for tinola, or kaong that is used in halo-halo or made into sugar palm vinegar—might seem strange in one locale becomes a kitchen staple in another, ignored due to proximity and commonplace nature. Sherwin makes visible all the ways of life and sustenance in the country.
Simplicity and authenticity define Lokalpedia. As a country that lives close to its fields and seas, Filipinos value freshness, tasting food as nature intended. In the same way, Sherwin records our traditions in its truest form: his archive is a visual reference with captions devoid of pretense or jargon.
The voice of the locals defines Lokalpedia, Sherwin explains. “Authenticity is staying true to my goal: to document and raise awareness about the overlooked and lesser-known parts of our culinary heritage and environment. Lokalpedia is a localized approach to our heritage. What you hear are the actual voices and experiences of locals, so talagang sabi nila.”
In his travels, he has met Filipinos who were confused and intimidated when made into subjects. In contrast, Lokalpedia is a straightforward explanation of Philippine ingredients: their scientific name, what parts of the country it’s grown, in what habitats and seasons, what parts are edible and how they're cooked, conservation status, and more. The way Sherwin archives cuts to the heart of the matter, accessible and beholden to anyone.
Because the writing is short and sweet, it leaves room for the audience to associate ingredients from where they are. Nostalgia itself is a kind of ingredient, as followers scroll through Lokalpedia, they are transported back in time. Comments and messages flood in from people of different backgrounds and ages with anecdotes of their grandmother’s fruit trees or the same ingredient prepared a different way in their barrio. The open-source nature of social media also invites scrutiny, the locals serving as principal fact-checkers. Through the exchange of information, questions, and photos, Lokalpedia stays true to its namesake. It is social media at its best, where genuine connections are still made.
Laying the Table
Lokalpedia has been a labor of love. After juggling a full-time job in public relations for months, Sherwin took the leap to fully commit himself to the cause. It has yet to be profitable but its returns have been invaluable. Lokalpedia has become the foremost resource for anyone looking to understand the cultural and ecological significance of local ingredients. With a growing community of food enthusiasts, farmers, scientists, and followers across continents, Lokalpedia transcends borders as people find parallels in our culture and culinary biodiversity.
Since he founded Lokalpedia, Sherwin has seen a shift towards a greater awareness of Philippine ingredients among chefs and restaurants as well as plantito’s and tita’s who have come to realize the significance of native flora. Exhibits, partnerships with government agencies, and recognition from universities affirm the reach of his work.
“Eating is language that speaks of the nuances of what we are and all our ties to the community. Eating is making alive the various and variegated conjugations of our lives.”
The impact of Lokalpedia is felt most by the communities Sherwin upholds. Among his most viral posts drew attention to asin tibuok from Alburquerque, Bohol. The artisanal salt was on the brink of disappearance until it rose to fame upon receiving the exposure it deserved. Asinderos shared the good news to Sherwin about the increase in sales that resulted from the social media buzz. Their story gives hope for cottage industries across the country, like fellow salt-makers from Zambales, Guimaras, and Pangasinan, as well as the artisans of muscovado, tapay, and more. If their traditional practices were rekindled, it would be a step towards an independent food system and a heritage preserved.
There are still hundreds more stories of culinary heritage waiting to be documented. With every Lokalpedia post, Sherwin hopes his call for preservation is answered by a collective awakening—an idea that goes on to become a country who has much love for their culture and their environment. If we could cook with ingredients from our own locale, then maybe our food traditions could find a place in the tables of the generations to come.
“I really love food, lumalabas talaga sa akin yun pag-nakita nila nasa field ako. It really is a passion. Kahit sobrang hirap, I hope I can do it for many years kasi yun nga sabi nila wala naman masyadong gumagawang ganito, only you, a young middle class underpaid employee dati,” Sherwin said. “I hope mahalin natin ang Pilipinas, hindi tayo mahirap na bansa. We are rich, we have everything around us.”
