We try out and compare different food brands so you don't have to.

Taste Tests

A staple in Korea households (argued to have 

 is made with vegetables (most often cabbage or radish) fermented with lactic acid bacteria—a 

 which comes about as the veggies are cured in a mixture of salt, (occasionally) sugar, and other flavorings (hot pepper powder, ginger, garlic, fish sauce, and the like).

Though the best brands would expectedly come from Korean groceries and households, you’ll also find more commercialized versions in local supermarkets. How do they compare?

With its deep aroma and fiery-red hue, you might think ADE’s kimchi packs a spicy punch—but a bite reveals it’s actually quite the opposite. While it gives you a decent mid-level tang and ample garlicky depth, there’s hardly any heat. This makes it a good pick for the spicy-averse, but those looking for a good chili bite are bound to be disappointed.

Perhaps the easiest to find across local supermarkets, this 

 also goes for a vivid, fiery-red in color and hits you with a powerful chili aroma. Though not too salty, this is the strongest-tasting kimchi of the bunch with an in-your-face vinegary sourness and sweat-inducing heat—though it oddly falls short on the fish sauce notes that would’ve helped support its impactful punch. If anything, its no-holds-barred piquancy makes it your best bet for balancing out oily or very fatty meats (e.g., BBQ pork neck) or for cooking the greasiest, most hangover-friendly bowl of kimchi fried rice with.

Dae Jang Gum’s is the sole one of the bunch that comes sold in pouches rather than glass jars. It’s strong in smell, with a definitive fishy note (likely from the salted shrimp in the ingredients) that really whets the appetite. The kimchi within notably taste less salty and feel more crisp and juicy versus the others, giving us the impression it’s a relatively younger kimchi that hasn’t been curing for as long. It nonetheless delivers a good amount of pungency, subtle sourness, and a mid-level heat.

Greengate contains a generous amount of liquid inside the bottle, with a saltier, garlicky, and onion-y taste that ends with a good amount of heat. The said flavors penetrate well into the cabbage as well, leaving it a tad saltier than we’d like—but with a deeply pungent, garlicky backbone that works well with its mid-level tang, “fermented”-tasting fizzle on the tongue, and powerful wham of spiciness toward the end.

Seoul Kimchi has a mildly ammonia-y aroma as you open the bottle. It’s not too sour or salty at the onset, but it goes big on the fish sauce-y pungency, and you get a definite “fermented” fizz and depth that makes it go particularly well with grilled beef. The heat builds up gradually and it never gets too unbearably spicy, thus allowing the other flavors in the mix to shine.

’s good balance of salty, pungent, and spicy makes it a winning kimchi for us not just for snacking on plain, but also for pairing with meats (it makes an impact without being overpowering) and cooking into other dishes.

 It’s not quite as spicy, but has a similar tongue-tickling complexity that we’ve come to love.

We test 5 brands of supermarket kimchi on saltiness, sourness, pungency, and heat.

Supermarket Kimchi Taste Test

Coffee addicts like me will take what we can get—even the delusional wakefulness from a sachet (or several more) of 3-in-1 coffee. Instant coffee was my best friend, my constant companion during the years I worked for three magazines. I have Nescafé to thank for making me lucid on those mornings-after-overtime and Kopiko for keeping me sane through late afternoon-until-evening shoots. I was introduced to San Miguel back in college, when I first started staying up late to write, edit, and finish issues of the school paper. Fast forward to the present: I now test the flavor, efficacy, and other qualities that factor into a reliable cup of instant coffee.

For this piece, Nescafe’s Original 3-in-1, Kopiko’s Astig, San Miguel’s Original (Creamier), and Good Day Original are compared according to four factors. On a scale from 1 to 5 (one being the lowest and five being the highest), each brand will be scored for the following criteria:

This factor will consider how well the coffee, creamer, and sugar balance each other on those first few sips.

Insomniacs drink coffee for one purpose: for that strong taste that takes over the taste buds and awakens the senses.

How long can the coffee’s strong taste last in your mouth? A lower score means it requires more sips or larger gulps for the taste to kick in.

For this criterion, the numbers go in reverse: one means it has a decent or no aftertaste; five means it has an awful aftertaste.

This brand may be the undisputed classic when it comes to instant coffee, but it really tastes more like cream and sugar. There’s a need to deceive the brain that it will work before you mix that sachet. Thirty minutes later, expect to be reaching out for another sachet to keep things going.

Despite having a look similar to Nescafe, Good Day Original offered a slightly stronger flavor. The mix had just enough bitterness to complement the sugar and cream components. The mortality of its 

 factor” however, is equal to Nescafe’s and it has an odd but subtle aftertaste.

Here’s my problem with San Miguel Original: the impact is there upon first taste and the way it hits lasts. Yet you can taste the chemicals that keep the flavor strong. Thankfully, the addition of more cream somehow distracts you a little from how you’re being kept up.

Kopiko Astig isn’t lying with its variation: first taste and tama factor work hand in hand. The mortality of the impact is just right, and the aftertaste—although just as artificially obvious as San Miguel—has a little more bitterness to make it taste more like coffee.

 as it claims to be. But that’s my bias for bitter balanced with sweet-talking.

We gauge four 3-in-1 coffee brands based on flavor, efficacy, and other qualities that factor into a reliable cup of instant coffee.

3-in-1 Instant Coffee Taste Test

Greek yogurt—yogurt that’s strained to drain out 

, resulting in a thicker, creamier probiotic dairy treat—has become 

 in the past few years. But as it tends to be expensive or relatively hard to find (mostly through independent purveyors or specialty food shops, which we can’t always go out of our way to visit), commercialized brands have jumped at the opportunity to peddle a similar version.

What many of them offer is not Greek yogurt per se, but Greek-

 yogurt, which gets its thickness not from straining but from added thickeners, and/or may contain 

. Marketed in a similar fashion as the real thing, and potentially 

, it’s a misleading way to ride on real Greek yogurt’s trendiness—but its accessibility and and cheaper price put it at an advantage.

Among three Greek-style brands available at the supermarket, who does it best?

Elle & Vire’s doesn’t stray too far from regular yogurt, being on the runny, pourable side—though it is a smidge thicker with a prepackaged (specifically, 

) pudding-like character, loosely holding its shape on a spoon.

Notably, this French brand’s version is the smoothest of the lot, giving a slight greasy feel on the lips and ending with the slightest bit of tannin on the tongue. Though unsweetened, it still carries a whisper of sweetness (of the sort you naturally get with milk) that blends in with its equally mellow sourness. And though watery at the onset, a milky fattiness emerges toward the end, contributing to the illusion of creaminess and making for an overall profile comparable to a watered-down sour cream.

Nestlé’s take carries a level of thickness and pudding-like character similar to Elle & Vire, but lacks the silkiness of the former brand and ends with a tannic feel that’s just a touch stronger.

This plain variant in their “Greek flavored” line comes sweetened, and though more sugary than we’d like, it’s still relatively balanced for commercialized yogurt (many of which tend to be saccharine). Though still not as potent as true Greek yogurt, the flavor does display a good dose of dairy, with notes of caramelized milk and a milky fattiness coming through, supported by a mid-level yogurt-y tang.

Pascual carries an even stronger pudding-like semblance of thickness to it, holding its shape with a slight jiggliness (somewhat like panna cotta) on a spoon. But it’s light and airy as it dissolves on the tongue, with a whippiness that makes it comparable to diplomat cream, plus a chalky feel toward the end (that we don’t particularly mind).

Its plain Greek-style variant is also sweetened and comes on the relatively sweet with less creaminess, but you get a more lemony tang here that distinctly resembles that of Dutchmill brand yogurt drinks.

All three brands remain within the realm of natural yogurt in terms of thickness and tanginess. Still, the good display of dairy and balance of sweet, tangy, and creamy makes 

 an enjoyable treat. Though we prefer to control the sweetness on our yogurt, Nestlé’s pre-sweetened nature make it a great on-the-go snack.

 being sweeter and airier, works great as a somewhat-light dessert.

 being unsweetened and relatively smooth, comes in handy as a lighter stand-in for sour cream or mayonnaise in certain applications (ideally those that don’t require heating, like for last-minute dolloping on tacos or binding together a macaroni salad).

Greek-style yogurt isn't Greek yogurt, but we tried three supermarket brands anyway.

Supermarket Greek-Style Yogurt Taste Test

For pairing with your breakfast cereal, guzzling down post-workout, or capping off the night, nothing satisfies like a cold glass (or warm mug) of milk. 

While fresh milk reigns supreme, it has the disadvantage of 

, spoiling easily (depending on the source, roughly 7-10 days for raw milk or 2-3 weeks for pasteurized milk) and not being as accessible to everyone.

Thankfully, us mortals have the option of going to the supermarket to pick up commercially-sold milk cartons. These milks are often given the UHT (“ultra-heat treated” or “ultra-pasteurized”) treatment, where the dairy beverage is briefly 

 This extends its shelf life (about 6 months at room temperature when unopened, and 5-7 days in the fridge once opened) and lets you stock up so you can enjoy milk whenever you please.

But the question remains: how do the different brands in the market differ?

We narrowed down the selection to fresh, full-fat cows’ milk with only cows’ milk as the sole ingredient, and took care not to include any “

versions. We tasted each brand on the first day of opening and for the remaining days thereafter before spoiling. Both were tried at room temperature and chilled.

Arla gives you an especially creamy milk with an especially full flavor. It has a relatively thick mouthfeel for UHT milk and a dairy-rich character. Plus, it has a slight sweetness toward the end that keeps us sipping until the end.

Cowhead’s “pure” milk has a thinner taste and consistency. For the most part it still tastes of fresh milk with a sweetish finish, but you also get a very mildly “cooked” taste (read: Maillard reactions) reminiscent of evaporated milk.

Jolly Cow gives you a more watery version that almost tastes and feels like skim milk. The slight sweetness is there, but you don’t get much of the rounded depth of dairy. If anything, it’s decent for use in your cereal bowl, or other applications that don’t necessarily call for milk’s fatty richness.

Magnolia’s milk is similarly thin and not particularly creamy. There’s a mild sweetness and a slight sourness toward the end. But the overall impression we get is that it tastes (and feels) flat.

Also thin in consistency, Milk Magic goes by a more “cooked” flavor that comes out much stronger than in Cowhead’s. Other than that, it’s sweet with a touch of tartness at the end.

Nestlé’s is an especially clean-tasting milk. It’s not the richest, at least not compared to Arla. But it’s mid-level in thickness, and another decent choice for drinking straight up.

’s relatively creamy taste and consistency makes it our top pick of the supermarket milk bunch—one we’ll be drinking on its own, mixing into lattes, cooking into bechamel sauces, and more.

 comes close. The latter, in particular, we enjoy for the more pure taste of milk it gives off.

Cowhead, Magnolia, Arla, Nestle, Milk Magic, or Jolly Cow—which supermarket milk is the best?

Supermarket Milk Taste Test

’s mix of sweet, sour, deep, spicy, and umami adds a distinctive depth of flavor to meats, cocktails, stews, sauces, and more.

 (who would go on to create the Lea & Perrins brand) in the city of Worcester and first sold in 1837, the sauce is said to have been adapted from a recipe rooted in India and is purported to be made with fermented anchovies, 

, aromatics, salt, and/or sugar (though the exact recipe is kept a 

Having created and defined Worcestershire sauce’s very identity, Lea & Perrins remains to be beaten, but we wanted to know anyway: how do the new players compare?

The OG Worcestershire sauce (which we thus take to be the definitive version) takes on a generally dark yet somewhat translucent color and a bright, acidic scent, perfumed with what seems to be allspice or clove.

It’s not too salty, allowing its complex flavors—grassy, celery seed-like notes, pungent anchovies, tangy malt vinegar—to shine through. Though rather sweet, it goes for a spice-filled finish that lingers long on the tongue and perks up anything you add the sauce to.

American Garden has an aroma as deep, dark, and rich as its almost-jet black hue; in particular, we detect allspice or clove, and the slightly grassy echo of celery seed, similar to Lea & Perrins’.

This brand flaunts a tanginess that isn’t as specifically vinegar-y but is clear and bright nonetheless, evened out with a mid-level sweetness. And though barely salty, you get great depth of flavor, with the said warm, woodsy profile of clove and a good amount of heat emerging amidst its long finish.

French’s version looks and smells very close to American Garden’s with its warm, gingerbread-y scent of clove, but with a touch more of a Japanese soy sauce-y aroma. As expected, it’s also saltier, but it delivers on ample tang, sweetness, and umami depth nonetheless.

The sensation ends on an especially spicy, heat-filled finish that lingers long on the tongue and goes especially well with rich, fatty meats.

This local brand’s version emits a more straightforward, pungent, 

 (Filipino-style soy sauce)-esque aroma that ends with the slightly warm hint of spices to indicate its being a Worcestershire sauce.

Taste-wise it’s not as salty as it smells, instead leaning toward being on the sweet side, with a finish that isn’t too long or spicy (though it’s the spiciest among the local brands), but is distinctively black pepper-y, evoking Filipino BBQ.

Another homegrown player, Mother’s Best gives off an intriguing scent that loosely evokes that of curries, with what we can best identify as coriander seed, clove, and cinnamon in the aroma. The said spices don’t come through as clearly on the actual taste front but among them, it’s the clove that we detect the strongest.

This brand interestingly goes for a flavor profile that’s significantly less sweet and less sour than all other brands, instead going for a more salt-dominant character—but without being too salty overall. Sadly, it falls short on the heat and doesn’t linger as long on the tongue afterwards.

Manufactured by local soy sauce company Silver Swan, Old English has the darkest, opaque-black appearance in the group, with a scent that evokes the 

 (Filipino soy sauce plus vinegar) combination of 

 plus a hint of cinnamon and/or clove. This is also a heavily sweetened take on the sauce, with ample tanginess but much less heat and a short, simple finish.

Lea & Perrins’ distinctive malt vinegar-y zip and gradual buildup of flavor is hard to beat, but relative newcomer

 comes close with its the sweet, tangy front and complex profile of spices that epitomize Worcestershire sauce—just conveyed in a more assertive light.

It’s worth noting that the local players (Lasap, Mother’s Best, and Old English) generally take on a flavor profile that’s different, with a more of a sweetened 

-esque character yet less emphasis on heat, acidity or spices. This does not make them any less delicious; but if you’re looking for a more Western-style sauce among them, 

Worcestershire Sauce Taste Test

Ranking high up in the list of well-loved Filipino breakfast foods is 

, AKA meat cured in a mix of sugar, salt, other flavorings (which may include 

soy sauce, garlic, and/or pineapple juice

, a preservative) in some variations, and/or 

 or annatto seeds. It entices with its decidedly sweet and savory character and distinctive reddish hue, which makes it comparable to Chinese 

 is traditional, tocino can also be found made with its white-meat fellow, chicken. You’ll find a couple of brands that offer ready-to-fry versions in the supermarket. Who does it best?

Note: We cooked all tocino according to package instructions. If no instructions were provided, we resorted to pan-frying by default.

This Fil-Chi brand goes for small, bite-sized chunks over the other brands’ bigger pieces, and exudes an appetizing meaty aroma as you fry it over the pan. It cooks up to a fleshy, relatively natural-looking chicken tocino that’s just barely glazed, and ever so slightly sticky to the touch.

From the outside, it’s on the sugary side as you’d expect, but has an ample amount of salt for balance—more so than the other brands. The meat within weirdly doesn’t taste like much of chicken however, instead displaying a odd, soapy note that puts us off. Even more bizarre is its consistency, feeling more crumbly than fibrous as you take a bite.

This known Pampango player’s chicken tocino comes in bigger (roughly palm-sized) pieces that are slightly syrupy right out of the package.

Fried in oil as per the package instructions, it has the tendency to stick to the pan, likely due to the sugar—though this also lets you get a good char on its (arguably) natural-colored surface. This carries over to the flavor as it’s the sweetest of the bunch, but in a somewhat homemade-tasting way that still evokes cane sugar, given depth from the welcome bitterness that develops as it caramelizes over the stove. It also retains a fibrousness within, thus reminding us that, additives aside, we are in fact eating real chicken.

Purefoods’ version boasts of being honey-glazed and has the most syrupy version of the bunch, coming in large, roughly palm-sized pieces.

It amazingly does not stick to the pan when fried, giving you glistening pieces of meat with a deep, reddish hue (similar to that of its common pork counterpart). Even within it’s eerily pinkish, with a texture that’s still somewhat on the fibrous side—but more compressed, resulting in a chewy, relatively silky, ham-like feel.

Sweet, savory, and slightly smoky, the flavor also reminds us of ham (in particular, the kind that’s popular during the holidays) perhaps more than it does tocino, but it’s enjoyable nevertheless.

Also hailing from Pampanga, Tita’s Special’s chicken tocino also gives you large (also palm-sizedish) pieces. It’s not too syrupy from the packet but develops a great char when pan-fried, along with a reddish-orange hue while being slightly pink within.

This brand has the oddest consistency for us, being on the even more gummy side (it almost reminds us of cartilage), and being too uniform with barely any meat fibers (somewhat evoking 

). If anything, it carries just the right amount of sweetness that surprisingly complements the chicken-y essence inside.

 reigns supreme with its relatively natural-tasting and natural-feeling version, which (thankfully) preserves its semblance of being made of chicken.

And though not as specifically tocino-y, 

’ sweet, smoky, ham-like take stands out in its own way, tasting as great with garlic rice as it is in a more Western-style sandwich.

Chicken Tocino Taste Test

Before almond, hazelnut, rice, hemp, and whatever else-have-you “milks” came about was the O.G. of alternative “milks”: soy milk, or the resulting creamy liquid of soybeans that are soaked, ground, and filtered.

 (soybean broth, a byproduct of tofu), it was popularized in the West over a couple of periods, eventually securing its place in mainstream consciousness as—for some time—a 

Styles differ across the world, with Asian versions often highlighting soy’s natural “beany” flavor and Western versions 

, likely to better resemble cow’s milk.

Soy milk today maintains a polarizing reputation, with its fair share of 

. As members of the former who appreciate the drink not as a stand-in nor for its nutritional value (or lack thereof?), but as a tasty drink in its own regard, we perused the supermarket shelves and found seven brands from around the globe. How do they compare?

Note: We narrowed down our selection to beverages marketed as soy milk, and went for the default or most basic variants available. However, a number of brands include dairy in their blends, often in the form of whole milk powder for added flavor for creaminess. We took note of this wherever it appeared, but for added security, always check the ingredients!

 from the Zesto corporation comes in small glass bottles sealed with metal bottlecaps—not the most convenient to open, but plus points for using less plastic.

It’s the sweetest of the bunch, tasting little of soy and more of sugar with a peculiar fruity undertone. This brand boasts of having added 

, which seems to come across in a very mild oatmeal-y note.

Stay away if you can’t have dairy though, as you’ll find whole milk powder lurking in the ingredient list. Still, it’s easy to drink, flaunting a slightly crisp, liquid consistency balanced by a creamy feel underneath.

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Though the consistency is just between being creamy and liquified, it flaunts a fattier taste that can get overpowering—you'll want to dilute this with ice as needed.

The soy is mild and only secondary to its creaminess, likely because you’ll still find whole milk powder in the ingredients. While a distinctive taste we associate with UHT-treated milk makes its way toward the finish, it ends on a slightly salty note that keeps the mix from being cloying.

 bears a slightly thinner consistency that still brings a creamy finish to the tongue.

Initially mild with a mid-level sweetness, it gradually introduces a deep, distinctly nutty tinge that strikes us as tasting more purely of soybean—perhaps a sweeter version of what you’d get from Taiwanese streets—building up to a full-on sensation that lingers long on the tongue.

Just a touch savory toward the end, this is the kind of soy milk we’d happily pair with spicy dim sum and other Chinese or Singaporean bites.

Not to be confused with a similar “unsweetened” variant also sold by this 

, this “original” variant comes only very mildly sugary and not as specifically soybean-y in flavor—save for a whisper of grassiness a member of the team likens to the taste of parcooked soybean skins.

It scores high on creaminess however, with a mild vanilla-esque note (despite not having any actual vanilla in the ingredient list) that makes it great for mixing into coffee. Call it soy milk for white people, if you will, but its relative neutrality makes it a good gateway soy milk for those dislike the beany taste of the traditional stuff.

 popular brand goes for soy milk with a much thinner, more watery consistency than all others on the list. It’s barely sweet, delivering the soy profile in a diluted but distinctly earthy, nutty manner that comes through stronger as you sip.

Though we were tempted to dismiss this as just another mild-tasting “textbook” store-bought soy milk, further sips revealed a tinge of maltiness—one that brings cornflake cereal milk to mind. Combined with the drink’s fluidity, the overall sensation is more refreshing than indulgent, making it far too easy to go back for another serving.

 is another Thai brand that’s successfully established itself on our shores. Commonly sold in glass bottles (though tetra pak versions are available as well), it goes by an off-white eggshell color and relatively viscous consistency with a slick mouthfeel. Though what hits the tongue first is a milky-sweet flavor (likely from the whole milk powder in the ingredient list), it builds up on the comforting profile close to fresh taho or scratch-made soy milk with a grassy and slightly savory aftertaste. Never mind that it’s on the sweeter side; we’d happily down this as a decidedly dessert-like soy treat.

’s soy milk comes packaged in plastic bottles, and though its consistency veers toward the thin side, each sip delivers a slightly slippery feel on the tongue that makes for a creamier impression. It’s also on the mid-level of sweetness and bears the distinctly beany, slightly clay-tasting (but delicious) character that reminds us of fresh soy milk sold on the streets. Though a tad simplistic in its approach, it provides just the right amount of comfort to let you get through a dreary afternoon.

Soy Milk Taste Test

There is a special place in our hearts for processed cheese—and while we’ve explored the franken-food in its regular and spreadable iterations, we couldn’t go without taking a look at another popular category: those specifically made for melting.

Intended for topping over lasagna, stuffing into cheese sticks, mixing into sauces, and other cooking applications, these cheeses may employ particular emulsifiers and ingredient ratios that allow them to melt faster and more uniformly than natural cheese and their regular processed counterparts. Among the three brands available at our local supermarket, which cheese is the chosen one?

 Perhaps the best-known of the bunch, Magnolia offers straightforward saltiness backed with just enough milkiness. It’s as simplistic (and comforting) as it gets, which is not surprising for the processed stuff—what we don’t dig, however, is the peculiar oily aftertaste also present.

 Go for this brand when you’re after the runniest, gooiest processed cheese. It feels creamy and supple to the touch, even at room temperature. When heated, it melts fast (as the name implies) to an especially oozy puddle that’s velvety-smooth, and stays that way for relatively long. But it feels a tad too liquified that it borders more on saucy than gooey, and it leaves an oily feel on the tongue that we’re not fans of.

: Che-Vital offers a more complex flavor wave that resembles the brand’s regular processed cheese. There’s saltiness (of a more moderate amount than Magnolia’s), followed by the creaminess of dairy, and ending with the distinctly nutty, slightly caramelized flavor of cooked milk.

: In direct contrast to Magnolia’s, Che-Vital’s version exhibits far more solidity. At room temperature it feels just about similar to regular processed cheese, being firm enough that you can grate it and slightly grainy in the mouth. But it takes long to melt—and it barely does so anyway, turning just slightly softer after 15 minutes in the oven but still retaining its shape and most of its original firmness.

 Go for Eden’s if you like your cheese sharp as they offer a much tangier blend, balanced with just enough saltiness and milkiness. It’s a great cheese for any occasion: flavorful enough to nibble on plain but still balanced enough that it complements other flavors, making it great to use in recipes.

 This version is the in-betweener between brands on this arena, being softer and creamier than the Che-Vital’s but not nearly as much as the Magnolia’s, and still being firm enough to grate at room temperature. Though slightly gooier than Che-Vital’s as it melts, it still takes relatively long to do so—and even then it solidifies fast.

It was a tough battle—each player has its own individual strengths yet no one brand exhibits all the ideal traits. Magnolia is at a clear advantage in terms of meltability but falls far back in terms of taste. Che-Vital’s and Eden’s melt slower and to a less-oozy, liquified state, but each exhibit superior and complex flavor in different directions (the former being sweeter and nuttier; the latter, sharper and tangier).

We’d be lying if we didn’t admit we just wanted to call it a tie between all brands. But after much contemplation, we give the award to 

 for offering the best compromise between taste, versatility, and meltability.

Which among these 3 cheese brands tastes and melts the best?

Melty Cheese Taste Test

With summer fast approaching, it’s only proper that we tackle one of the nation’s nation’s all-time fave ice cream flavors: ube. Enjoyed by Filipinos of all ages (even prior to its on-trend revival) in milkshakes, atop crepes, on 

, or just by itself. With a number of affordable brands of ube ice cream in the supermarket, how do they compare?

Note: Food laws in other countries (e.g., the States) 

 between (real) “ice cream” and their cheaper counterparts, “dairy desserts”, the latter containing fillers such as vegetable oil (in place of part of the dairy) and/or overrun (a.k.a., air). As we have not found information on the existence of similar laws in the Philippines, and for convenience, we simply refer to the products below as “ice cream”.

Known for producing ice cream out of a carabao milk base, this local brand churns out an especially dairy-focused take on ube ice cream with a grayish-mauve hue. Barely sweet, it has the closest-to-natural flavor, which is to say the ube here comes very subtly—i.e., as an especially mellow, earthy, nutty hum, just like that of real purple yam. This transitions beautifully into an especially creamy, milky-tasting finish that lingers long and makes it hard to put the tub down. And though Arce’s way airy and icy for our preferences, what we especially love are the bits of cooked purple yam running through its feather-light body.

Magnolia’s version bears similarities to Arce’s, being of a slightly more saturated mauve-ish color. It has a similar mild, earthy-nutty taste that almost strikes us as natural, bolstered just a touch with a peculiar musky note we associate with Ferna brand ube extract. This is not necessarily a bad thing, given how muted in flavor real ube can be, but Magnolia’s ends on an odd oily-tasting finish that strikes us as being flat.

Rock-hard as it is from the freezer, it melts down to a frothy, velvety consistency that’s very highly aerated (think: frozen mousse) and littered with ice crystals, but also actual purple yam bits (not as much as Arce’s, but close).

Nestlé strangely only peddles their ube ice cream in small, single-serving cups. Striking in its far-from-realistic vivid violet tone, this version is the softest and airiest of the lot with the highest amount of 

. Unlike the other brands that go rock-hard, you can spoon right into it even when fully frozen, and it weirdly retains much of its shape and form as it defrosts—not unlike those internet-famous 

You get a more in-your-face, ube extract-like profile here which we’d describe as a blend of fragrant (a la McCormick brand extract) and musky (a la the Ferna version), before ending on a fatty creaminess; it’s far from natural-tasting, but it’s just like the ube ice cream we associate with our childhood.

Selecta boldly asserts their ice cream to be of the “super thick” sort, leaving us with high expectations. In reality, this close-to-electric violet colored player is no super-premium Carmen’s Best-tier ice cream (which is not surprising at this price point), but it definitely has a denser, smoother backbone relative to the others, notably retaining more body and a close-to-velvety feel (save for very occasional purple yam bits) as it melts down.

Flavor-wise, it exudes a blend of Magnolia’s somewhat naturally nutty and Nestle’s more ube extract-y characters, making it an a versatile ice cream of choice and a no-fail crowd pleaser.

Consistency-wise, almost all brands come airy and/or icy as expected of their grocery-variety genre. It’s more in flavor that we found more variability, along the lines of a sort of ube flavor spectrum: some come more natural-tasting, mellow and nutty in a way that evokes fresh ube with milk; others, more (decidedly) artificial-tasting and ube extract-y, like what you’d use for topping 

 takes home the crown for us. Its ultra-milky and creamy, natural-tasting character simply cannot be beat.

 also makes for a decent, slightly cheaper, somewhat similar-tasting stand-in.

’s version nonetheless strikes a chord with us, however, with how its “fake” but nostalgic flavor appeals to our inner child.

’s, which not only stands out with its relatively thicker, more voluptous body, but also strikes a great balance between both ends of the said ube flavor spectrum.

Supermarket Ube Ice Cream Taste Test

What else can make the daily dust- and smoke-filled city commute more bearable than a serving of steamed, meat-filled siomai?

, siomai has found its place in Filipino culture. Between the high-brow dumplings served at grand Chinese restaurants and the dirt-cheap variants peddled on the streets, siomai is found everywhere, for every budget and situation.

Like its predecessor, most local siomai come stuffed with ground pork and/or shrimp by default. Cheaper brands take on a simplified approach with the filling, going for a mix of meat and extenders—and train station kiosks hawking these teacup-shaped treats have become a default lunch for the on-the-go workers on a budget.

, diners personalize each bite with their own blend of

, and a good lashing of chili-garlic sauce.

In the quest for the food cart siomai with the most bang for your buck, the Pepper team tasted four of the more commercially accessible and affordable brands on the market: Siomai House, Hen Lin, Siomai King, and Master Siomai.

We make no claims to be experts, but we sought siomai that offers the strongest harmony between wrapper, filling, and sauce. This means having a skin that’s moist and springy (but not too thick that it overtakes the meat within) and a filling that’s tender and juicy with as much semblance of real meat as possible for the price range. The siomai as a whole should be flavorful (even without sauce) without assaulting the senses with too much salt or MSG.

So which food cart brand earns the title of the best daily dumpling?

As the only dumpling on the list with no orange marks and a grayish hue, Siomai House’s looks as appealing as soggy bread. On a 

 level, Siomai House’s dumplings are noticeably larger than the rest. But this isn’t a beauty contest.

How does it actually taste? Though the skin peels off too easily, it is silky and moist without being mushy. With the filling’s neutral flavor, there is little to distract from the taste of MSG. And it has a dense bite, likened by some tasters to sausage.

Their chili fared much better. With distinct bits of minced garlic in the oil—some soft, some crunchy—it has a balanced flavor that shuffles between salty and tangy, before finishing with heat. There’s a mild burnt-ness that one taster wasn’t a fan of, but the others loved.

Despite its shriveled wrapper with soggy segments, Hen Lin’s siomai got positive feedback from our panel. The filling had the closest semblance to real meat—unlike the homogenous consistency of the rest—and had visible bits of shrimp. Tasters commended its balance of savoriness and sweetness, with both the pork and the shrimp flavors given representation.

The panel unanimously loved their siomai but were divided on their chili. With a jet-black hue, it appears to be made with roasted pepper skins finely chopped in its surrounding oil. It’s barely salty on its own, but carried the most robust flavor of the bunch: burnt (even more so than Siomai House’s) and very, 

 hot, with the lingering sweetness of roasted red peppers.

It was a hit with one of our tasters who likened the chili to XO sauce and 

; others found thought it was too burnt-tasting for their liking.

Siomai King: Hong Kong Siomai (pork with garlic)

The cheapest on the list, Siomai King’s appeared to be mostly fillers. Its overly uniform texture and lack of anything remotely resembling meat fibers gave it a sausage-like quality similar to Siomai House’s, but denser, to the point of being gummy. The soggy skin feels as though it coats the tongue with flour. There is a subtle whisper of garlic akin to a mildly seasoned 

Their chili, a mix of finely-chopped toasted garlic and chili seeds in oil, is certainly unique. The sweet, toasty flavor of the garlic dominates; the kick of chili sneaks up at the end. Significantly crunchy, it’s fun to nibble on, even on its own.

Spongy and mushy, Master Siomai disintegrates easily and offers little to no bite. Think: Siomai House is to commercialized hotdogs as Master Siomai is to canned Vienna sausage. The flavor strikes us as odd; it’s hard to identify just 

 it tastes like. There’s a hint of sweetness past its predominantly savory character, and not in an unpleasant way.

Their chili is less spicy than the others, but carries a tanginess and slight sweetness. This might disappoint chili fans looking for a stronger kick, but its fruity character gives their siomai a much-needed lift.

Unsurprisingly, price was proportional to outcome in this taste-test.

’s higher price tag was justified by their use of real meat and shrimp—needless to say, their dumplings win hands-down.

The other three brands were overly processed in comparison. Still, they each have their strong points: the skin on Siomai House’s, the garlicky flavor on Siomai King’s, and the balance of salty and sweet on Master Siomai’s.

The chili sauces differed wildly per brand, with no clear winner, as reactions to the sauces depended on the tasters’ preferences. One thing is for sure: they all do a great job of providing punch to their respective dumplings—which is much-needed, given the suspect composition and quiet flavors of the siomai.

It would clearly be unfair to compare the budget options to restaurant siomai. But when hunger strikes and you’re in transit with just a few coins in your pocket, there’s no denying the satisfaction these accessible brands bring—pseudo-meat, mystery bits, and all. For that, we pay commuter siomai our deep respect. If all else fails, douse ’em in sauce.

Commuter Siomai Taste Test

If you’ve ever been curious about those fried rectangles (or rounds for the dessert flavors) they sell at the counter in MiniStop next to some of our favorite cheap fried chicken around, we can assure you that you are not alone.

Kariman are not a common snack in the Philippines save for in this chain of convenience stores franchised from Japan (and recently spotted in 7-11 just this year, so there must be something to it).

A quick search on Google tells us that Kariman is short for 