A rich, slow-cooked beef dish that tells a story of time, texture, and tradition.
In Cebu, where I grew up, balbacua wasn’t just a dish—it was an event. You’d find it bubbling in giant kalderos by the roadside or being served in the market canteen beside the church. The smell was unmistakable: deep, nutty, slightly sweet, with the aroma of tausi and tender beef fat carried by steam. It was the kind of stew that took hours to make—and always had a line.
At home, we didn’t eat it with plain rice. We had it the old way—with corn grits (mais), which soaked up the rich, sticky broth in a way that rice never could. That pairing—hot balbacua and steaming white corn—is still, to me, the taste of comfort, of growing up, of home.
Cooked over low heat for hours, balbacua is made from beef trotters, oxtail, or ox skin—cuts that need patience but reward you with a gelatin-rich, fork-tender texture. The broth is a blend of East and West: fermented black beans, peanut butter, pineapple, tomato sauce, and annatto oil. The result is sweet, salty, nutty, and savory—a flavor that clings to your lips and memory.
Some say its name comes from barbacoa, the slow-cooked Mexican meat dish introduced via the Spanish galleon trade. But Filipino balbacua evolved into something entirely our own—stewed, not smoked, and deeply Visayan in spirit.
Whether served during fiestas, Sunday lunch, or after a long night out, balbacua isn’t just food—it’s devotion in a bowl.Here’s how to cook balbacua the traditional way: low and slow, with lots of love—and maybe a side of mais.
How to Cook
Serves 6 to 8
Prep Time: 30 minutes
Cook Time: 3 to 4 hours
Ingredients
Set A:
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1 ½ kilograms beef trotters or oxtail
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10 cups water (add more as needed)
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2 tablespoons salt
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¼ cup annatto oil (atsuete oil)
Set B:
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1 head garlic, minced
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2 pieces onions, chopped
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1 piece large ginger, smashed
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4 tablespoons fermented black beans (tausi)
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¾ cup Filipino-style tomato sauce
Set C:
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1 small can pineapple chunks (with juice)
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½ cup peanut butter
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2 red bell peppers, cut into strips
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1 bunch leeks, cut into 1-inch lengths (separate white and green parts)
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4 pieces finger chilies, sliced diagonally
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1 pack beef seasoning granules
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4 tablespoons fish sauce
Instructions
A. Boil and tenderize
In a large pot, combine Set A ingredients—beef trotters or oxtail, water, and salt. Bring to a boil, skim off any scum, then lower the heat and simmer gently for 2.5 to 3 hours or until the meat is fork-tender and gelatinous. Add more water as needed to keep the meat submerged.
B. Build the flavor base
In a separate pan, heat the annatto oil. Sauté Set B ingredients—garlic, onions, and ginger—until aromatic. Stir in the fermented black beans and cook for about a minute. Add the tomato sauce and simmer until slightly thickened. Transfer this mixture into the pot of beef.
C. Combine, simmer, and finish
Add Set C ingredients: pineapple chunks (with juice), peanut butter, bell peppers, the white parts of the leeks, finger chilies, beef seasoning granules, and fish sauce. Stir gently to combine. Let simmer uncovered for about 30 minutes, or until the sauce thickens into a rich, sticky stew.
Add the green parts of the leeks just before serving. Taste and adjust seasoning. Serve hot with steamed rice or traditional corn grits (mais), Cebu-style.
If you can’t find beef trotters or oxtail, a mix of ox skin and beef ribs makes a great alternative. You’ll still get that signature sticky texture and deep beefy flavor that makes balbacua unforgettable.
Storage and Reheating
Balbacua is even better the next day. Store in airtight containers for up to 3 days in the fridge, or freeze in batches. Reheat gently on the stovetop with a splash of water to loosen the sauce and revive its full flavor.
The Colonial Echoes Behind Balbacua
Though it shares a name with barbacoa, the slow-roasted Mexican meat dish, balbacua has taken a different path in the Philippines. While barbacoa is traditionally cooked underground or pit-roasted, Filipino balbacua is stewed low and slow, absorbing layers of local flavor.
The name likely traveled here via the Spanish galleon trade, but what emerged in Visayan kitchens was entirely unique. Over generations, Filipino cooks transformed the dish with native ingenuity—adding tausi, peanut butter, pineapple, tomato sauce, and annatto oil. The result is a stew that reflects not just colonial traces, but the creative spirit of regional cooking.
Balbacua is a reminder: Filipino food is never just borrowed—it’s rebuilt, reimagined, and made deeply our own.
