Cassava, butter, coconut, and condensed milk mashed to perfection and topped with cheese and margarine in this classic Filipino treat. Hearty, creamy, and nostalgic—this pound-and-mash treat takes me straight back to my Lola’s kitchen. A merienda worth remembering. #SpecialNilupak
When I was young, nilupak was more than just food—it was a weekly ritual, a sign that merienda was going to be hearty, warm, and made with care. My grandmother, a proud Bicolana, always had a soft spot for these traditional snacks. Whether it was nilupak na saging, cassava, or even simple boiled saba or kamote, we never went a week without it. I still remember those afternoons when I’d see her pounding away with the heavy lusong and pestle, turning plain root crops into something special.
That was the version I grew up on. For years, I made the modern halukay version of nilupak, like ube halaya, where you mash and stir in a pan, perfect for kitchens without traditional tools. But recently, I got my hands on a proper mortar and pestle again. And just like that, I knew I had to do this the traditional way, the way Lola did it. And not just traditional, I wanted to make it special.
What Is Nilupak?
Nilupak comes from the Tagalog word lupak, which means “to pound.” It’s a traditional Filipino delicacy made by mashing or pounding starchy ingredients, most commonly cassava or saba bananas and mixing them with coconut milk, butter, or condensed milk and sugar. The result is then shaped, spread on banana leaves, and often topped with cheese, coconut, or margarine.
In the Visayas, it’s called nilusak, while in Quezon and nearby provinces, a similar dish is referred to as minukmok. Despite these regional names, the heart of nilupak remains the same: it’s all about communal preparation, simple ingredients, and comforting flavours.
A Culinary Evolution
Nilupak has evolved over centuries. Pre-colonial Filipinos used lusong and alho (mortar and pestle) to pound ingredients, mostly for preserving or softening them. During the Spanish colonial period, ingredients like cassava were introduced from Latin America. The Spanish word jalea, meaning jam, even became part of the local vernacular, eventually evolving into halaya, now synonymous with the purple yam variety of nilupak.
In modern kitchens, convenience has changed the way we prepare nilupak. Electric mixers and stainless bowls are now the norm. But the pounding technique, especially with cassava, gives it that distinctive texture, rustic, dense, and nostalgic.
The Many Faces of Nilupak
There are countless versions of this humble merienda:
Cassava (kamoteng kahoy): The most common base, known for its firm but smooth texture.
Saba banana: Sweeter, softer, and sometimes combined with coconut milk for extra richness.
Ube (purple yam): Often called ube halaya but still made using the nilupak method.
Sweet potato, taro, even squash: These lend different hues and subtle flavour profiles.
And now, the special version: half plain, half ube-flavoured, arranged in a yin-yang pattern for a visual touch. Topped with shredded cheese, margarine, grated fresh coconut, and an extra drizzle of condensed milk, it’s the kind of snack that brings generations together at the table.
Serving Nilupak Today
Modern Filipino cafés and home kitchens alike are rediscovering the joys of nilupak. You can even find fusion variants now—with chocolate, peanut butter, or even tropical fruit flavours added to the mix. But for me, it’s the traditional one that hits home the hardest.
It’s not just the flavour—it’s the process. The pounding, the sharing, the anticipation. Nilupak is more than a dish—it’s a memory in every bite.
1cup shredded processed cheese (Eden or Cheezee) or mild cheddar
margarine, to serve
grated fresh coconut
additional condensed milk, to drizzle
Instructions
Brush a baking dish with butter or margarine and set aside.
Steam cassava for 35 to 40 minutes or until very tender. Drain and cool.
Remove the tough, stringy core and discard.
Using a large mortar and pestle, mash the boiled cassava in batches until smooth.
In a bowl, combine mashed cassava, condensed milk, and butter. Stir until creamy.
Divide the mixture in two. Add ube flavouring to one half and mix thoroughly.
Individually pound each portion in a mortar and pestle until the texture becomes coarse and uneven. Aim for a rugged consistency—think rustic, not smooth like mashed potatoes.
Transfer each mixture to half of the prepared dish—plain on one side, ube on the other. Create a yin-yang effect for visual appeal.
Flatten and smooth the surface using a spatula. Use a fork to make decorative lines, if desired.
Cut into portions and serve with cheese, coconut, margarine, and a drizzle of condensed milk.
I’m not familiar with nilupak, but the colors are certainly striking. I would love to try this recipe – I’ll have to see if we can find the ingredients around here. I bet we can with a little searching!
I’m not familiar with nilupak, but the colors are certainly striking. I would love to try this recipe – I’ll have to see if we can find the ingredients around here. I bet we can with a little searching!
This is so beautiful, Raymund — I love the yin and yang design. Such colors!
A very interesting addition to my increasing knowledge of Filipino food. You have served it beautifully!
Raymund, dishes like this one are acts of love. Food can be so much about love, and this dish is definitely one. Btw, crazy delicious too.
Stunning! The colors are arresting, and I love how you arranged the two together. I love this dish!
What a unique dish and beautiful colour. I am not sure whether it’s right up my alley, but it certainly looks terrific!