Chef Gelo Guison’s love for cooking started long before he even knew it could be a career. As a kid, he would wake up at 3 a.m. to tag along with his grandmother to the markets of Bulacan, where he got his first taste of what fresh, quality ingredients meant in a kitchen.
“My lola would wake me up early to buy beef. I didn’t even understand why we had to go all the way to Bulacan, Bulacan,” he recalled with a laugh. “But I remember seeing the fresh meat, still moving, and realizing how important fresh ingredients were in our cooking.”
Food was a big deal in his family. Their household was filled with heirloom recipes like caldereta, pochero, and the lechon paksiw that his family would make after every big gathering. Cooking wasn’t just about feeding people but about tradition, love, and making the most out of every ingredient.
Gelo didn’t jump straight into the culinary world despite his early love for food. Instead, he built a career in corporate training, working long hours in a high-pressure environment. But after six years, he started feeling drained. “The demands of work were so heavy, and I needed something to keep me sane,” he said. “I asked myself, ‘What can I do?’ And the answer was simple — I love cooking, I love eating, so why not study culinary arts?”
So, while still working full-time, he enrolled at the Center for Culinary Arts, Manila. Juggling both was brutal. “I worked nights because our company was U.S.-based. I’d clock out at 6 a.m., sleep for two hours, then head to school for my culinary classes,” he said.
But it was worth it. His background in public speaking eventually landed him his first cooking gig, a live demo at a grocery store opening in Nueva Ecija. A former high school classmate called him up on a Friday, asking if he was free that Sunday. Without hesitation, he said yes.
“I didn’t even think about the talent fee. I was just happy to be considered,” he admitted. “There I was on stage, repeating taglines like ‘Karne Norte ng Madishkarteng Misis!’ twenty times per minute. But that’s when I realized I could merge my two skills, cooking and public speaking.”
If there was a moment that truly pushed Gelo into the culinary world, it was his internship under one of the country’s most respected chefs, Margarita Forés. “I emailed her directly, asking if I could do my internship at Cibo,” he said. “At first, no response. So I followed up. Eventually, she agreed.”
His first job was washing, blanching, peeling, and chopping 75 to 80 kilos of tomatoes for the restaurant’s signature sauce. “That was my introduction to professional cooking. It was tough, but I was grateful,” he said. “Chef Gaita, I know you’re happy in heaven now. Thank you for giving me my start.”
If Gelo hadn’t pursued culinary arts, he believes he’d still be creating content just not about food. “I actually wanted to be a journalist,” he revealed. “Back in 2001, during EDSA 2, I was so amazed by the reporters standing in the middle of the protests, reporting history as it unfolded.”
He initially planned to shift to journalism or broadcasting but was advised to stick with social anthropology and political science. “My adviser told me that having a background in social sciences would allow me to report with deeper analysis and perspective,” he explained.
If money weren’t an issue, Gelo knows exactly what he’d do. “I’d go to Italy to learn artisanal pasta-making from grandmothers. No pasta machines, just rolling pins,” he said. “Then, I’d do a wine adventure in France.”
But his biggest dream is to own a food truck that serves a greater purpose. “On regular days, it would sell comfort food. But during calamities, it would transform into a disaster relief truck, serving hot, decent meals to survivors.”
Gelo’s approach to food content isn’t just about recipes but also about advocacy “When I started making videos for ‘Simpol,’ I told myself that it should be more than just cooking,” he said. For him, food is also about accessibility, nutrition, and affordability.
“Are Filipinos eating nutritious meals? Can they afford it? If we cook adobo, how much does it actually cost a typical Filipino family?” he asked. Through his content, he wants to highlight the realities of food security in the Philippines. “It’s about simple cooking, simple eating, and simple living,” he said.
Gelo loves to experiment with flavors that most people wouldn’t think to put together. One of his most unique creations is the Pininyahang Baka with Gata and Bagoong. “I love playing around with ingredients that don’t traditionally match,” he said. “The umami of bagoong, the sweetness of pineapple, the richness of coconut milk, it turned out amazing.”
A visit to Bacolod’s Manokan Country deepened his appreciation for inasal. “You think you know what inasal tastes like, but when you have it in Bacolod, it’s a completely different experience,” he said.
And then there’s his adventure in San Miguel, Bulacan, where he learned how to milk a carabao for the first time. “Carabao skin is rough! I thought it would be smooth,” he said, laughing. “When I milked it, I realized fresh carabao’s milk actually smells like pastillas!”
For Gelo, food is about history, culture, and community. “Food isn’t just about eating. It tells stories of struggle, triumph, and identity,” he said. “When I work on documentaries, like ‘Hungry’ with Probe, I want to help people understand why rice prices are rising, why vegetables are expensive, and how we can make nutritious food more accessible.”
Some of his most memorable meals have been the simplest ones despite all the fine dining experiences and high-end restaurants he’s visited. “I’ve eaten meals by the gutter in wet markets, and those moments remind me that food is for everyone,” he said.
Summing up, Gelo is waking up at dawn to buy fresh beef in Bulacan as well as creating content that educates people about food security. His journey proves that cooking is about feeding people, telling stories, and making an impact.
