At the onset of this year’s Easter, the Manila Hotel again celebrates its traditional Easter Chocolate Festival, featuring Belgian chocolates in different ethereal varieties to honor the Lord’s renaissance, and with cuisine’s sweet gratitude.

Beyond merely the science of preserving food and prolonging meats’ shelf life—as thought by our Chinese fathers, distinguishably noted some time a few history books ago—Adobo’s dispatch in Philippine cuisine is both science and bliss, and if an Adobo dish can speak, it’ll simply ask us and say: hey are you not proud of me? I’m not just brown you know!

In the late 18th century, French and Dutch processors experimented with methods to reduce the fat content of the chocolate liquor. In the process, they discovered chocolate powder, and this marked the beginning of its manufacture. The idea of adding refined sugar to cocoa butter followed, and it is believed that the first solid chocolate was sold in 1800’s in England. However, it was in Dorchester, Massachusetts in 1765 that chocolate was first manufactured by the Walter Baker Co., Ltd., which was founded by James Baker, along with his Irish friend John Hanan.

Whether it’s from a famous patisserie, a popular fast-food joint, commercialized restaurant, grocers’ store, or from a grouchy neighbor, discovering a good affordable dessert is indeed unforgettable.

It was only after a few days that Ronnie Alejandro and Nancy Reyes–Lumen successfully and formally launched their Adobo book (that had already been selling well nationwide) that I had noticed a well wrapped parcel on my desk.

Writing this column is the best thing that ever happened to me. I get to eat and savor all my favorite desserts, pastries, and cakes. This time out, I feature something Filipino and very close to our hearts: puto, which comes in three flavors: ube, pandan, and queso. Who else sells the best puto but Michelle’s Homemade Putong Ube?

Hot chocolate, the famous Filipino drink that dates back to the Spanish era, is still a favorite breakfast or merienda accompaniment to churros or any "silog" variation. It’s fascinating that this drink was even part of Jose Rizal’s novel Noli me Tangere. When Padre Damaso received visitors, he had a code for his cook. If the guest was very important, he would say, "tsokolate eh," referring to pure chocolate or a chocolate espresso that is thick, rich, and not watered down. When his visitor was an ordinary person, he would say, "tsokolate ah," which means "aguado" or watered-down chocolate.