No joke but there was an obsession palpable inside Dedet de la Fuente’s home on the night of April 1 when friends, familiar faces, and a posse of new acquaintances gathered over a festive 12-course menu from the lechon diva herself.

And no, it wasn’t an April Fools’ prank but de la Fuente being back with a vengeance was a welcome reprieve to the dire and dour times we are living in today. But I wouldn’t really call it a comeback in the strictest sense because she never really “left” in the first place.

You see, the aptly titled “Lecheng Sarap” degustation is a thrilling taste of what de la Fuente has to offer in the mid-2020s: a heartfelt collection of cooking that finds the diva herself feasting on life and legacy, utilizing pomelo fruits, bamboo culms, and banana trunks as vessels, and mimicking South Sea pearls or Chickenjoy skin to get to the crux of the matter.

This is why degustation dinners like this exist: to know and experience that life is indeed good even in arguably hard times. Where people gather around a binagoongan rice-stuffed lechon—of which the crisp skin’s sound is resistant to the din and awe of its spectators—or bite into bone marrow atop a fried banana blossom and a seductive “marrow-naise” that gives sense to being alive.

This is who de la Fuente has always been despite the years with which she has remained out of the spotlight. Simply because there are things we cannot forget. 

And so de la Fuente’s latest, her seventh, degustation effort in 12 years is too difficult to deny. It’s a kind of public love. And pride. For the luxury of Filipino food, heritage, and personal history. Of de la Fuente’s legacy and parents, lineage, faces in paintings, depictions of life in taste, tableware that hold memories, smiles and smells meant to be shared. 

Dedet de la Fuente’s latest, her seventh, degustation effort in 12 years is too difficult to deny. It’s a kind of public love. And pride. For the luxury of Filipino food, heritage, and personal history

“Tonight, you don’t just eat, but we taste and feel the spirit and flavors of the Filipino kitchen—past, present, future, all at the same time,” she says. “So this is my kitchen. This is our legacy.”

No detail is left unspared. She cooks what would seem normal dishes but when she unravels the tricks up her sleeves, it’s as if the clouds are parting. Caressing a pomelo fruit filled with rice coated with the essence of inasal one moment then spilling the steaming hot binakol-like halaan soup (and its lovely gingery flavor) into a large ceramic bowl before dispensing them into smaller ramekins near the halfway point of the meal suggests de la Fuente’s proclivity for asymmetry in the degustation.

“This dish is all about memory, love, and innovation,” de la Fuente says, explaining her mother’s love of suha. 

“My daughter told me ‘Mom, you have to think of a fruit where you can cook rice’ like the pineapple fried rice. So why did we use a pomelo? Because when you cook inasal, you put vinegar so it’s sour… so we used the pomelo flavor to add sourness to the rice.”

Elsewhere, a charcoal-cooked banana trunk draped in soot combusts and spills out a defiantly clean “rebel” chicken (owing to its Katipunan reference) from its belly with galangal, pineapple, lemongrass, and kaffir lime—and a sweet and salty sabachara on the side. It has blockbuster appeal all over it.

No matter when and where or however long Dedet de la Fuente wanders (or wonders, even) in life, she’ll never lose sight of herself—stuffed lechon in tow

Of course the chicken was good and of course the entire degustation was right; the way de la Fuente can afford to render Filipino food to be so lovable and tasty and able to assuage exhaustion and suffering. 

I came to de la Fuente’s home with a tote bag on my shoulder and high hopes in my head. And after sharing a night with good friends, rekindling old connections, and making new ones, I knew that the “lecheng sarap” vibe will cling for months on end. 

As Lana del Rey sings “when you know, you know” in her 2023 song “Margaret,” I sensed that no matter when and where or however long de la Fuente wanders (or wonders, even) in life or in Manila Polo Club where she plans to open a small eatery for “divalicious” a la carte and to-go specials, she’ll never lose sight of herself—stuffed lechon in tow.