November 1985 to March 1986 was a  good period to be in the news business. And the best place to be at was the Philippines. All the big stars of  American, British, Japanese, and Australian networks rushed to Manila to file stories on what most of them wistfully predicted was the beginning of the end of the two-decade rule of President Ferdinand E. Marcos.

The biggest news hogging headlines around the world in February 1986 was the anticipated ouster of President Ferdinand E. Marcos. It was covered live via satellite by every major newspaper, TV network, and news agency, whose reporters, anchormen, photographers, and crew turned the Manila Hotel into an international press lounge.

The foreign correspondents, affectionately nicknamed “parachute journalists,” tried to outdo one another in producing stories that portrayed the Philippine leader as an unpopular, corrupt despot.

Finally, in February 1986, Marcos, his family, and associatees were forced by American aircraft to involuntary exile in the US “to protect them from communist rebels.” US helicopters flew them from Manila to the US Clark Air Force military base and from there to Hawaii via Guam.

No foreign correspondent covered the last hours of the Marcoses in the Philippines. Everyone was focused on the new government, not on the sick deposed strongman under detention at Hickam Air Base in Honolulu. Because Hickam was restricted, very little information trickled out, except for material and photos released by the US government.

Suddenly, the world was thirsty for Marcos news once again, especially after the Marcos entourage was moved out of Hickam and into a small one-bedroom bungalow along busy Kalanianaole Highway outside Honolulu. The group was not allowed visitors except for relatives and former Malacañan staff. State Department security personnel kept watch and scrutinized identification cards. I had flown to Hawaii to try and land the first interview with the Marcoses in exile, A, for bragging rights and, B, for the promise of enough talent fee to keep my camera rental business afloat until the next big scoop. I presented a 1970 ID signed by Press Secretary Francisco Tatad identifying me as editor, radio news and editorial services, Malacañan Press Office.

The grass lawn between the gate and the house was covered with vegetables and fruit that seemed straight from an Ilocos market. They were gifts from Ilocanos living in Hawaii but were barred from calling on the former first couple.

Mrs. Marcos suddenly remembered stories about me feeding the Malacañan Press Corps and asked if I could help sort out the goodies and supervise dinner for the staff, composed of members of the PGB (Presidential Guards Battalion), doctors, nurses, nannies, drivers, and Imelda’s hairdresser.

And because the donated stuff were all Ilocano vegetables, she introduced me to a genuine Ilocano supervisor. I was speechless when in came President Marcos, known to eat dinengdeng three times a day. Although he was itching to sit down and help us slice the vegetables, his doctor advised against strenuous activity.

He taught me how to clean and trim vegetable flowers, which parts to discard, and what portions to peel. We had blooms of kalabasa, imbaba-o, katuray, and malunggay.

He recalled being served pinakbet during a campaign sortie in my home province Cavite long ago. I volunteered to cook some that night for dinner, just to refresh his memory.

I cut pork liempo into bite-size pieces and parboiled them in water for 10 minutes, then browned them in their own rendered fat, in which He taught me how to clean and trim vegetable flowers, which parts to discard, and what portions to peel. We had blooms of kalabasa, imbaba-o, katuray, and malunggay. My routine is I walk around the whole food area and with a lot of hesitation, holding back my desire to purchase anything. Then I think of what jumped out to me. was stir-fried garlic, onions, and tomatoes. Salted alamang was added in with the vegetables according the to length of time needed to cook each kind. Water is added according to need, just to keep the veggies from burning. The cooked pork could be added anytime.

Dinner was the big showdown: Pinakbet vs Dinengdeng. The burly PGB guys loved my Cavite pinakbet because they had missed all the greasy Pinoy food at home. My special guest and dinengdeng expert took a bite of pinakbet vegetable and was quickly stopped by his doctor, who pointed at his grease-stained napkin. The dinengdeng, in contrast, bore no trace of grease at all.

I vividly remember that day whenever I cook or eat Ilocano food.

And yes, my exclusive hourlong interview with the former President and the first dady was sold and shown worldwide. Best of all, I was taught how to cook real dinengdeng by the best food instructor in political science history.