Asin Tibuok: Artisanal Salt of Alburquerque, Bohol.

Asin Tibuok, an artisanal salt boasting a sharp saltiness and a smoky undertone, derives its name from Visayas, where "tibuok" means "whole." In the past, asinderos would exchange or barter this salt for rice or palay. Beyond its culinary uses, asin tibuok serves as a "padila" for animals like goats, cows, and horses.

This artisanal salt holds a special place as one of my earliest posts as a food heritage advocate. In 2021, my post on asin tibuok went viral, marking a turning point in my journey. The rest, as they say, is history.

In 2023, I had the opportunity to visit Asinan ni Tan Inong, the salt workshop of Manongas family. The name of this asinan honors their grandfather, "Kapitan Saturnino.", who was also an asindero.

The legacy now rests in the hands of Ma’am Veronica, and Tay Nestor, the latter serving as the current production head at the asinan. Meanwhile, Ma’am Veronica takes charge of the sales aspect, ensuring the continuation of this rich family tradition.

Preserving Our Food Heritage Despite the Challenges

The salt workshop/farm endured the devastation of three natural disasters: the 1984 Typhoon Nitang, the 2013 Bohol earthquake, and the 2021 Typhoon Odette. Abandoned a few years after Nitang, production only resumed in 2010, thanks to the efforts of one sibling, Fr. Cris Manongas. According to them, selling the salt was challenging during the early years of production.

Additionally, the ASIN Law mandating iodine in salt production dealt a significant blow to this artisanal salt. Ma’am Veronica mentioned pulling dozens of asin tibuok from stores due to the law.

Despite these struggles, the family persevered in continuing their ancestor’s legacy of crafting asin tibuok.

First step of making Asin Tibuok

Coconut husks are soaked in seawater for 3 - 4 months. The saltwater enters this pond during high tide.

Afterwards, the coconut husks are burned in this area for 3-4 sleepless nights. The outcome of this process is the ash called gasang.

The contrasting color of the nipa roof. The right side is severely blacked due to smoke coming from the continous burning of the coconut husks and cooking of the salt.

This is the collected gasang inside the funnel-shaped bamboo filtering device called sagsag. The saltwater is poured here. The final brine is called tasik.

Then, the tasik is collected in a hollowed-out coconut trunk beneath the funnels. This one has a “1988” carving on it. It’s one of their father’s possessions and a family heirloom.

Their father died at age of 69. Ma’am Veronica said that despite his father’s short life, it was fruitful because of his extreme hardwork as an asindero.

I asked her if they anticipated the current fame of their salt, she said no. “Hindi namin inakala na dadating ang araw sisikat ang asin tibuok.”

She attributed the success of asin tibuok to the hard work of asinderos, the efforts of supporters, and the prayers their ancestors.

The clay pots that are used as a vessel for asin tibuok are called kun. This is a separate industry that’s dependent on the sales of Asin Tibuok. So, if you support the asinderos, you also support kun artisans.

The asinderos will now pour the tasik in the clay pots placed in a furnace. This time-consuming cooking process usually starts around at 8:30 a.m. and ends at 2 p.m.

Fun Fact: According to a superstitious belief, coins and jewelry are not allowed within the salt workshop during the cooking process. Presence of these items will result to a batch of asin tibuok with poor quality.

The making of asin tibuok is not an easy task. Aside from the long intricate process, the asinderos are exposed to extreme heat for hours.

Tatay Nestor, now 74 years old, is still managing the asinan. He is the oldest asindero in Tan Inong, Before, no one wants to be an asindero, especially the newer generations because it is not a lucrative job, but after the rise the salt, former asinderos came back. There are also new breed of asinderos, the youngest asindero in Asinan ni Tan Inong is 21 years old and the next is 27.

This is Edwin from Sydney, Australia, but he grew up in Lila, Bohol. He visited the salt workshop here in Alburquerque just to see asin tibuok again. He gleefully shared his childhood memory of the salt with us. According to Edwin, his family experienced poverty, and there were many occasions when asin tibuok was their only “ulam.” A chunk of salt (shared by all his siblings) was the perfect accompaniment for lugaw (rice porridge) or plain hot rice with oil or lard.

He also mentioned that their neighbors used to borrow a chunk of salt, and they would just return it afterward. Edwin even joked that the practice was acceptable because there was no COVID-19 back then.

I brought the salt in the Chocolate Hills complex. MWhile taking a photograph, a foreigner approached me and inquired about the salt. I explained the intricate process of creating Asin Tibuok. I felt genuinely proud, not just a simple Pinoy pride, while talking to him.

However, our conversation reminded me of what Veronica Salupan told me. In the early 2010s, Americans and Europeans were their only markets, not Filipinos. The support of foreigners was crucial for the survival of the asinan. Fortunately, things have now changed—Filipinos are now interested. This gives me hope. Knowing Filipinos can now support and appreciate this salt, I believe they can support other local products too. Please don’t fail me. I believe in you.