A spread of pancit bihon, steamed veggies, barbecued pork liempo, lumpiang shanghai, salted eggs and buro on fresh banana leaf greeted us at Crystal Waves Resort in Nueva Ecija. It was lunchtime and we’re expecting a Jollibee meal, the spread was an unexpected suprise, it’s gonna be a boodle fight for us! Superb as the food was, this was but ordinary. During our two-day Lakbay Norte 6 romp across the province of Nueva Ecija, we’ve come across dishes and snacks most people would probably find quite weird—but for certified foodies, weird is good.

The landlocked province of Nueva Ecija isn’t really the first thing that would come to mind when one plans for an out of town trip. Heck, what can you even do there? That’s the usual thing I get when asked about my home province. And to be fair, I can’t really give a big-ass concrete answer. My mom’s home province is so laid back that until you really try and probe its farm-filled landscapes, you’d be hard-pressed to come up with any interesting things to do.

But yes, I just found out that there are more remarkable places to visit at Nueva Ecija besides those I’ve already listed on my Nueva Ecija Travel Guide. The next time you pass by the province en route to popular tourist places like Baler, Banaue, Sagada and Tuguegarao City, try to stop, spend a night and see what this quiet pastoral province is all about.

One after another, plates and bowls of hot steaming dishes clinked on the glass surface of our table. Soft music piped in across Rosenda’s Cabanatuan’s spacious dining hall. And the only patrons that night, us. Despite what our tummies were saying, we looked on with watering mouths.

ROSENDA’S DYNAMIC FACADE IN CABANATUAN CITY

We absolutely have not recovered from our supposed snack at NYOrK, and less than half an hour later, we were facing another dining table once again. That huge round table, reminiscent of my grandma’s—complete with a spinning lazy susan tray in the middle.

► SEE: NUEVA ECIJA FOOD TRIP

What the heck is NYOrk?! In hushed tones, I asked my seatmate as our van rocketed across the highway from Gapan back to Cabanatuan City. We were on the last leg of our Microtel Cabanatuan Nueva Ecija tour and we’re gonna eat again, this time at NYOrK. NYOrK?

INSIDE NYORK CAFE IN CABANATUAN

This was becoming more of a food trip by the minute than a provincial tour, but my friends don’t mind. Cabanatuan City has been surprising us with one excellent restaurant after another, so, I really don’t mind too.

And before dinner, we finally parked at The Podium, a two-storey modern building set in the quiet neighborhood of Kapitan Pepe. Hello NYOrK, we finally meet (and where’s Bjork, by the way?).

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Absolutely no one was paying attention to the four trays of karioka set on our food-cramped table at Cabanatuan City’s Hapag Vicentico’s. We were already starving, but it was our job to take photos of the food first before wolfing it all down. And the restaurant’s chicharon bulaklak was the first casualty of the day—everyone was taking potshots at it while we took pictures of the other dishes.

HAPAG VICENTICO'S BEAUTIFUL COMPOUND IN CABANATUAN

We just came from the Aquino-Diokno Memorial at Fort Magsaysay via Microtel Cabanatuan’s van. It was almost an hour drive and it was past noon when we arrived at this quaint restaurant fronting the city’s Freedom Park. I don’t easily use the word quaint, but once you stepped inside Hapag Vicentico's compound, you’d find yourself blurting out the words, how quaint!

► READ: CABANATUAN TOURIST SPOT

It wasn’t long after our impromptu sunset shoot at the grounds of Microtel Cabanatuan that we went out to town again—not to drink and party, mind you (but that would’ve been swell as well)—but to have dinner. After a few minutes of driving around, we parked in front of Bistro 360, another homegrown food place frequented by Novo Ecijanos in Cabanatuan City.

BISTRO 360’S BAR IN CABANATUAN CITY

The first thing I noticed as we entered their dim and cozy interiors was their bar. Tan-tan-tan! Open the red curtain, my friends, they have Red Horse beer! But oh, we were so here for the food. Yes, the food.

► SEE: NUEVA ECIJA FOOD TRIP

Aren’t we gonna drink yet? That was the quintessential question that’s been buzzing around our heads as we lounged around Microtel Cabanatuan’s Liquid Bar. We were at the al fresco area, basically just shooting the breeze, waiting for our friends to arrive, when the seemingly innocuous sunset we were ignoring suddenly bloomed into one of the fieriest afterglow we have ever witnessed.

SUNSET AT MICROTEL CABANATUAN

The sun has lowered itself beneath the horizon but its colors blazed across the open sky, painting the heavens in blistering embers. Thoughts about beer were quickly forgotten as we grabbed our cameras and rushed towards the nearest open field.

We were being warmly welcomed by Cabanatuan City. We certainly knew it.

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I cannot believe how good this lechon kawali was. I sat there, totally engrossed on what I was chewing, oblivious to what was going on around me. I was, with all my heart, savoring with total abandon this Filipino favorite at Rustica in Cabanatuan City.

Coming from a two-month backpacking trip across South East Asia, we terribly missed the comfort of Filipino food. And this restaurant, I believe, was the answer to our fervent prayers.

RUSTICA RESTAURANT IN CABANATUAN CITY

It was a late lunch. From a three-hour bus ride from Manila, we alighted at Cabanatuan’s central bus terminal. From there, we were picked up by Microtel Cabanatuan’s service van. And after quickly dropping our bags off at our designated rooms, we again went out, braving the smoldering summer heat of the city for some grub.

The restaurant of choice was Rustica.

► CHECK MICROTEL CABANATUAN’S DISCOUNTED ROOM RATES

It’s an early start for this year’s adventure. Four hours through numerous highways and I’m back at my mom’s hometown, Cabanatuan City. My usual haunt, the farmfield a few minutes from my grandparent’s house, was unfortunately covered with looming dark clouds. It’s not as grand as the New Year sunset I witnessed years before on this same place, but no matter; blues and grays are still part of the color wheel anyways.

Afternoons are my favorite time to take a leisurely stroll at the rice fields across our house in Cabanatuan.

Passing through a neighbor’s yard and crossing a makeshift stick bridge, I’m immediately transported from the newly paved road of Buliran to an expansive vista of nothing but rice fields.
The dirt path runs parallel to the setting sun far west of the horizon. I can count on my single hand the number of times the sun did not impress me during its retreat at the ends of the earth.

Most times, I walk these roads alone. The fields empty except for some cows and carabaos; an occasional human zooming on bikes and tricycles passing through once in a while to break my solitude.

I used to pretend to be a farmer when I was a kid. I’d wake up at 5am with my cousins; watch them milk our carabaos, go to the farm with them to buy duck eggs, and after breakfast, go back to the fields and pretend to harvest the endless golden fields of Cabanatuan with them.
Ever since picking up a camera, I have for the longest time wanted to capture the memories of harvesting the rice fields of my youth. I somehow always arrive too early; the fields just recently planted or too late, when only the stumps of rice stalks are all there are left.

I was in grade 5 the last time I remember taking a dip at the brook at the back of our house in Cabanatuan. I’d still check on the river every time we’d go back, but the most I’d do was just wade in the water and see how much it has changed over the course of the years.

The brook out back is a minor tributary to the much larger one found in Valdefuente, but unlike that river, this one’s pretty small. About twenty five meters across at its widest, with a depth ranging from an inch to ten feet deep. Trees surround both banks, and only the warbling of birds disturbs its otherwise quiet environment.

It’s been two long years since I last visited my province up north.

Cabanatuan has always been a summer escape when I was a kid; swimming at the brook at the back of my grandma’s house, picking and eating mangoes and star apples, running around the rice fields, biking through the woods and swinging endlessly on the makeshift tire swing beneath the shade of our huge mango trees.
There was this one summer though that was forever etched on my mind. I’m not sure what the occasion was, but our grandma decided we should hike from Buliran to Obrero through the backfields. It took us half the day, passing streams, mini dams, dessert-like patches and a mighty river before reaching our aunt’s house at the other side of town.

The Lakbay Norte bus was waiting at the Victory Liner Kamias as I boarded down from a 30-minute cab ride from home. It was three in the morning and with still no sleep, I lugged my bags aboard and met the crew. I chitchatted with the Lakbay Norte guys  a bit and then had a cup of hot taho where I met Mang Poka, a washer at the station for 12 years. We rolled half an hour later, here we go North Luzon!

Norzagaray was two hours away and everyone had their much needed shuteye. It was much too soon when I felt our bus bumping away uphill towards our first stop, the Pinagrealan cave.

I actually dreaded this stop since it was gonna be my first time to do real spelunking. Not that I’m afraid of getting bumped up but really because I cramp easily and I don’t want to ruin the trip by being hosted back out of the cave on a stretcher haha. After a feast on local sweets and some words from the Mayor, we were off to the dark depths of Pinagrealan cave.

The floor was wet and expectedly uneven. With flashlights, which not everyone has, we managed to slowly move towards the bowels of the cave. A third of the way and we were already wading in cold waist-deep water, there really was no other way to move forward but to cross these murky obstacles. Twice, we’ve had to squeeze through tight crevices, with cameras held tightly for the bottom was also filled with water.

I don’t have an idea how long it took us to reach the end of the tunnel, I was only glad I was able to reach it with no problem (other than dropping my flashlight twice into the water.) Only thing was we have to do it all over again to go back where we came from.

A ten minute walk from my grandma’s place is another of my favorite place to shoot and hang out during sunset; the expansive Buliran ricefields.

It was drizzling on and off during our first day at Cabanatuan and I wasn’t expecting much for a shoot since it was still pouring come afternoon. So when the rain unexpectedly subsided, I quickly packed my gear off and excused myself for an afternoon at the rice paddies. 

I revisited my mom’s hometown, Cabanatuan City, a few weeks ago for my grandmother’s wake.  It was a chance to celebrate my grandma’s long and fruitful life, get reacquainted with my relatives and visit some of the familiar sights in the small town of Buliran.

Cabanatuan has been our summer vacation place during childhood.  We would spend a month there living the slow provincial life.  Getting up early to accompany my cousins milk our carabao, buy duck eggs at the farm, pick ripe mangoes, guavas and star apples, and my most favorite part, swim and play at the brook at the back of our mango orchard.

It’s a tradition with our family to travel back to my mother’s hometown in Cabanatuan, Nueva Ecija on the first day of the year and spend a few days there to catch up with our faraway relatives.

A four-hour north ride from Manila aboard a Cabanatuan bound bus and a half-hour tricycle ride and we’re there.

Nueva Ecija has been tagged as the rice capital of the Philippines due to it’s vast plains filled by endless fields of rice paddies.  Farming is the basic way of life in this part of the country.  Everybody has a parcel of land and everyone owns a carabao to till it with.  Not really an easy way of life but a noble one nevertheless.