
I was feeling homesick, thinking about the fun times I had with my family back in Jiabong, Samar, and how we would gather in my Mom’s garden and have a big boodle fight to celebrate a special occasion. And when I say big, I mean BIG – a 4-metre-long assembly of lined-up tables covered in banana leaves, with a seemingly endless pile of delicious food in the middle, enough for about 40 to 50 family members to share. Around the table, the air filled with loud and lively conversation in all directions, from raucous laughter to serious family matters.
This got me thinking, many of my friends in Hong Kong have likely never experienced a boodle fight… perhaps they should give it a try! So I decided – I would host a traditional Filipino boodle fight for my birthday, on our rooftop in our home here on Lamma Island.
“Will you be fighting poodles?” my Finnish friend, Sanna, slightly confused, jokingly asked upon receiving her invite. “I can assure you that no poodles will be harmed in this feast,” I confirmed, much to Sanna’s relief.
It is an unusual name though; how and why did it come about?
We need to start with the traditional Filipino dining style of kamayan, which translates to ‘with the hands’. The name describes the process exactly – we eat using our hands. Take a bite-sized portion of rice and place a small bit of meat, vegetable, fish, or any accompanying dish onto it. Using all five fingers of your dominant hand, pinch the mound into a pyramid, using your thumb to gently push the food into your mouth. The fingers and palm do not generally touch the mouth.
Unlike traditional Western methods of dining, where there are strict rules of etiquette observed, eating kamayan with family and friends is informal, and usually involves vibrant conversation throughout the course of the meal.
The origins of kamayan can be traced back to pre-colonial times when Filipinos would eat with their hands as a way to connect with their food and the earth. It is a practice that emphasises the importance of using all the senses to appreciate the flavours, textures, and aromas of the food.
By eating with their hands, diners are able to engage more fully with the meal and experience a deeper connection to the food they are consuming. Although the practice of kamayan was discouraged by Philippines’ Spanish and American colonisers, its cultural significance has become elevated in the country’s postcolonial culture.
When a meal is shared with one or more people, this is what we call a salu-salo, or gathering in front of food. All social gatherings are included, from family dinners to weddings, from fiesta celebrations to christenings. The first time my husband, Darren, who is British – a culture known around the world for their, shall we say, ‘meticulous’ etiquette around dining – came to Jiabong to meet the family, he enthusiastically embraced the chaos of a salu-salo. While enjoying our meal of grilled meats, fish, and local root vegetables (including bilanghoy [cassava], camote [sweet potato], and gaway [taro]), my aunties, uncles, and cousins loudly – and often drunkenly – tried to converse with him.
The word boodle does not have a definitive origin but is commonly believed to originate from the American military slang ‘boodle’, meaning ‘contraband sweets’, which they brought with them to the Philippines during World War II. It may also have derived from the term ‘kit and caboodle’ which means ‘everything available’ – which aptly describes the presentation of a boodle fight, which consists of food in one long mound in the middle of the table.
Regardless of the variety of dishes, the focus is always on enjoying the company of friends and family, while savouring the flavours of Filipino cuisine. On the day of my birthday, we made adobong baboy (pork stewed in soy sauce and vinegar), liempo (grilled crispy pork belly), pork chops, chicken wings, ginataang kalabasa (pumpkin in coconut milk), lumpia (spring rolls), pancit (fried noodles), all paired with generous heaps of fluffy, steamed rice.
While I arranged the tables and chairs for the boodle fight, Darren went foraging in the bushes in front of our house to grab some banana leaves. Part of the joy of hosting these events is the preparation of the food. I love marinating the meats the day before they go on the grill, making sure I have the choice cut of pork belly for my adobo, and making sure I have enough rice for everyone (the last salu-salo I hosted I didn’t have enough and I had to cook more – my Filipino ancestors were shaking their heads at me from the grave).
The word boodle does not have a definitive origin but is commonly believed to originate from the American military slang ‘boodle’, meaning ‘contraband sweets’, which they brought with them to the Philippines during World War II. It may also have derived from the term ‘kit and caboodle’ which means ‘everything available’ – which aptly describes the presentation of a boodle fight, which consists of food in one long mound in the middle of the table.



Like a true nanay or matriarch of the house, I made everybody wash their hands before eating. “Paghugas anay hit iyo kamut,” [wash your hands first] my mom would say to us in Waraynon before every meal. I explained the simple rules of using your non-dominant hand to grab food from the boodle pile, to add to a smaller portion in front of you, and your dominant hand to eat. Before long, we were all tucking into the food.
The concept of a boodle fight is all about sharing and camaraderie. This communal way of eating fosters a sense of unity and togetherness among diners, as they share not just the food, but also stories, laughter, and memories. As my friends and I share the meal, I can feel my homesickness fading away. In between the chats, laughter, and occasional exclamations of how good the food was (mostly from our Swedish friend, Magnus, and his Indonesian wife, Martini), I had waves of what we Filipinos describe as nakakataba ng puso, meaning ‘the heart is full’.
In a boodle fight or salu-salo, there is a sense of equality among diners, as they share a meal together without any hierarchies or divisions. Everyone, regardless of status or background, is equal at the table, united by a common love for food and fellowship. Being the only Filipino at my birthday salu-salo, I did not feel alone. Far from it.
“I loved enjoying the delicious food while chatting with friends. It’s also a bit like Chinese family drinking occasions. There are always some small dishes to go with the drinks. We Asians love to have food!” says Viola, who originates from Harbin, China. “Eating with your hands is much more efficient!” exclaims Sanna’s British husband, Rob.
Boodle fights, salu-salo and kamayan are more than just ways of eating; these communal dining styles symbolise the Filipino values of unity, camaraderie, and generosity. Through boodle fights and kamayan, the rich culinary traditions of the Philippines are preserved, celebrated, and shared, ensuring that the flavours of Filipino cuisine continue to thrive for years to come. I just need to ensure there’s enough sinaing (steamed rice)!








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