I wrote these stories years before artificial intelligence became my writing companion. Today, at 91 nearing 92, I am revisiting some of them not to change my memories, but to see what I understand differently after another decade of living.

Choral Singing Reminds Me of Our Life Together and Why I Am Singing Again 

Choral Singing Reminds Me of Our Life Together and Why I Am Singing Again 

From the Philippines, to church choirs, to singing with Macrine and now, after more than eight years, back to singing with the THD Singers

Music has been part of my life for much longer than I realized.

Sometimes a song brings back a person. Sometimes it brings back a place.

Sometimes it brings back an entire chapter of your life.

And sometimes, as I recently discovered, it can bring you back to something you thought you had left behind. Singing.

I am now 91 years old, nearing 92. For more than eight years, I had not sung in a choir.

Then something wonderful happened here at The Heritage Downtown.

We are preparing a Christmas Concert and Sing-Along for our fellow senior residents, and a group of us decided to form a choir.

We named ourselves the THD Singers. And I joined. I am having a wonderful time.

After more than eight years away from choir singing, I feel as if I have rediscovered an old friend.

My First Love of Choral Singing-UPSCA Choir Christmas Concert, 1953,  UP Diliman, QC 

My love of choral singing began when I was a young student in the Philippines.

During my college years at the University of the Philippines, Macrine and I participated in the University of the Philippines Student Catholic Action Choir.

There were many of us hundreds of students from different colleges.

I sang bass/baritone. Macrine sang soprano.

Looking at photographs of that choir today, I sometimes have to smile.

There we were two young students who had no idea what the future had in store for us.

We did not know that we would eventually marry.

We did not know that we would spend more than 63 years together.

We certainly did not know that decades later I would be sitting at a computer in America, looking at an old photograph of that choir and remembering those days.

But that is how memory works. A song can open a door that you thought had been closed for decades.

Singing Became Part of Our Married Life

Macrine and I continued singing after we were married.

In Northern California, we sang together in church choirs.

In the late 1980s, we sang at Sunday Mass in Pinole and also participated in the University of the Philippines Alumni choir in the Bay Area.

Later, we sang in our church choir in Fair Oaks.

One Christmas, Macrine and I even sang a duet of “Silent Night” in Tagalog before Midnight Mass.

That remains one of my favorite Christmas memories.

Macrine also loved to sing. In her younger years, she had a beautiful soprano voice.

She even sang at weddings. I always joked that she was the professional singer in the family.

I was merely the husband who enjoyed singing beside her.

We Even Brought Singing to Maryland

When we lived in the Washington, D.C. area in the 1990s, Macrine and I helped organize a Christmas caroling group through the Marinduque Association of the Capital Area.

Again, singing brought people together.

Filipinos who had moved thousands of miles from the Philippines could gather during Christmas, sing familiar songs and feel, for a little while, as if we were back home.

That is one of the special powers of music. It crosses geography.

It crosses generations. It crosses languages. And sometimes it crosses time.

Music Also Helped Me Remember Macrine

After Macrine died in 2020, I began writing a series about her life through her favorite music.

I realized that I could tell parts of our love story through songs.

One song would remind me of a trip. Another would remind me of church.

Another would remind me of our children. Another would take me back to our younger years.

“Moon River” was especially meaningful because it was one of Macrine's favorite songs.

I wrote about music because it gave me a way to remember her.

That experience taught me something I had probably known all my life but never put into words: Music is a form of memory.

You can forget a conversation from 40 years ago. But hear the melody of a song you loved when you were young, and suddenly you are there again.

I Was Never a Great Musician

I should make one confession. I was not a musical prodigy. I love writing more than singing.

When I was a boy in the Philippines, my mother tried to make me learn the piano and organ.

I lasted about two weeks. That was it. I quit. My mother was disappointed.

Years later, however, I discovered that I did enjoy music, especially singing.

In 2022, I wrote about whether musical ability is inherited or learned. I still don't know exactly where my own modest singing ability came from.

Perhaps there is some genetic component. Perhaps it is practice. Perhaps it is simply enthusiasm.

Whatever the explanation, I have always enjoyed singing much more than playing an instrument.

My One and Only Solo Performance

There is one singing story I have never forgotten. When Macrine and I were living in Pinole, I was singing in our church choir.

One Sunday, during Communion, something strange happened. My voice suddenly came through the church speakers by itself.

I froze. The congregation could hear me. I thought:

Oh my goodness. They can actually hear me!

I was terrified that everyone was going to discover that I could not sing.

Later I learned that the microphones of the other singers were not working.

Mine happened to be the only one that was on. I survived.

And, surprisingly, people told me that my voice was not bad.

That was my first and last public solo performance.

I have jokingly said that I remain a frustrated singer and will sing solo only in my bathroom.

Music Came Back Into My Life at THD

After moving to The Heritage Downtown, I began discovering that music was everywhere.

We have had concerts, sing-alongs and music enrichment programs.

One of my favorites was a music-enrichment program led by Claire Baffico, a certified music therapist. We sang familiar songs and participated in rhythm activities using instruments such as maracas and bells.

She explained how music therapy can be used to support wellness, stress management, emotional expression, memory, communication and rehabilitation.

I also attended THD Candlelight Concerts.

At one of them, we sang along with songs such as “Some Enchanted Evening,” “Bali Ha'i,” “Unforgettable” and “The Impossible Dream.”

I remember thinking how fortunate we were. We were sitting in our senior community, listening to live music and singing together.

No long drive. No expensive theater ticket. No need to dress up. Just residents enjoying music together.

And Now We Have the THD Singers

But the new THD Singers is different. I suggested our group name to be The THD Chorale. I was outvoted, and our name is: The THD Singers. 

This time, I am not just sitting in the audience. I am part of the group.

We are practicing for our Christmas Concert and Sing-Along.

There is something very enjoyable about learning songs together.

We sometimes make mistakes. We sometimes have to repeat a section.

Sometimes we don't come in at exactly the right time. But we laugh.

And then we try again. That is part of the fun. I think this is especially meaningful for seniors.

At our age, we sometimes hear that we should slow down. I understand that.

But slowing down does not mean stopping. There are still things we can learn.

There are still new friendships to make. There are still songs to sing.

What Does Singing Do for Us?

I have written about the health benefits of singing before. Now I am experiencing some of them myself.

Research is increasingly interested in music and healthy aging. The National Center for Complementary and Integrative Health notes that making or listening to music activates brain systems involved in thinking, movement, sensation and emotion, and that music can evoke memories and promote social bonds.

Studies specifically involving older adults who sing in groups have reported possible benefits involving mood, social connection, verbal fluency, memory and aspects of physical function. A 2026 study found that older adults participating in group singing experienced improvements in mood and social bonding during the sessions.

A two-year study of older adult choir singers also found some evidence of benefits in verbal fluency, although the researchers emphasized that the effects on other measures of quality of life and cognition were less clear.

So I would not say: “Singing will make you live longer.”

That would be too strong. But I would say:

Singing gives us another reason to live more fully. And at 91, that is important to me.

My Ten Reasons for Singing

After thinking about my own experiences, here are my personal reasons for continuing to sing.

1. Singing makes me happy.

This may be the simplest reason.

2. Singing exercises the brain.

You have to remember words, melodies, timing and cues.

3. Singing brings back memories.

One song can take me from THD directly back to the Philippines.

4. Singing connects people.

You cannot sing in a choir without listening to the people around you.

5. Singing encourages breathing.

Proper singing requires controlled breathing, posture and attention to the breath.

6. Singing reduces isolation.

You are not sitting alone listening to music. You are making music with other people.

7. Singing gives seniors something to look forward to.

A rehearsal on the calendar can be a very good reason to get up and get moving.

8. Singing creates new friendships.

The people standing beside you during rehearsal can become friends.

9. Singing keeps us learning.

Even at 91, I can still learn a new song.

10. Singing gives us a chance to share joy.

That may be the most important benefit of all.

Singing and Healthy Aging

I have written many times about Living Longer, Living Better.

For me, healthy aging is not simply about taking the right medicines, eating properly or exercising.

Those things matter. But so do purpose, friendship, curiosity and joy.

That is why activities such as bridge, dancing, music, writing and social gatherings are important to me.

They keep the mind engaged. They keep us connected. They give us something to talk about. And sometimes they simply make us smile.

The National Institute on Aging has similarly noted the growing interest in arts participation as a way of supporting healthy aging, including possible effects on cognitive function, memory, self-esteem, well-being and social interaction.

The Wonderful Thing About Group Singing

One thing I especially appreciate about the THD Singers is that nobody has to be a great singer.

We are not auditioning for the Metropolitan Opera. We are senior residents having fun.

That is important. You don't have to sing perfectly. You just have to sing.

The person beside you may have a beautiful voice. Another person may occasionally sing off-key.

I may forget a word. Nobody cares. We are there together. And that is the beauty of a choir.

Your voice becomes part of something larger than yourself.

From the UPSCA Choir to the THD Singers

Sometimes I think about that young Filipino student who sang bass in the UPSCA choir more than 70 years ago.

Then I look at myself today. I am 91. My voice is certainly not what it was when I was 20.

But here I am again. Singing. The choir has changed. The country has changed.

My life has changed. Macrine is no longer standing beside me.

But when I sing some of the songs we used to sing together, a part of her is still there.

And perhaps that is another gift of music.

It allows people we love to continue singing with us, even after they are gone.

My Christmas Wish

This Christmas, when the THD Singers stand before our fellow residents, I don't think I will be thinking about whether we sound perfect.

I will be thinking about the journey. From a young Filipino student singing bass in the Philippines...

To a young husband singing beside Macrine...To church choirs in California...

To Filipino Christmas caroling in Maryland...To years of listening to music and writing about it...

And now, after more than eight years away from choir singing, to the THD Singers. What a wonderful circle.

At 91, I have learned that growing older does not mean giving up the things that once gave us joy. Sometimes it means rediscovering them.

So if you are a senior reading this and you think you are too old to sing, I have one piece of advice:

Sing anyway. As the say, if you can talk, you can sing, Perhaps not as beautiful as Pavarotti.   

You don't have to be a great singer. You don't have to remember every word.

You don't have to sing solo. Just find some people and sing together.

You may discover, as I have, that the music does more than fill the room.

It fills something inside you. And perhaps that is why I am enjoying the THD Singers so much.

After 91 years, I am still learning new songs. And I am still finding new reasons to sing.

Merry Christmas from the THD Singers!

May our songs bring a little happiness, a few memories, and perhaps a smile to everyone who hears us.

And if I forget a word during the concert... Please sing a little louder. I'll follow you.

AI Impressions and Revisions on this Topic:

Macrine and I singing During a Birthday In-house Party, Pinole, Ca, 1983. The bottom photo is our backyard and the sunset above the Pinole Hills as the Background    

I found several of your related music and singing posts, and they give us much more material than the 2019 article alone.

I especially found your 2022 reflections on whether singers are “born or made,” your memories of singing with Macrine in the UPSCA choir and later church choirs, your 2024 THD concert experiences, your 2025 music-enrichment session with Claire Baffico, and your earlier writing about music for relaxation and meditation. 

I also checked the more recent research. A 2026 study of older adults found that group singing was associated with improvements in mood and social bonding, while other research has found potential benefits involving verbal fluency, memory, breathing/respiratory strength, and quality of life. I have been careful not to turn those findings into claims that singing “prevents” disease or guarantees better health. 

Most importantly, I think the THD Singers should become the heart of the new version. Your return to choir singing after more than eight years gives the old article a wonderful “full circle” ending.

Lastly, I particularly like the ending because it sounds like you-warm, slightly humorous, and not trying to make a grand scientific claim. Your older music writings provide the history, but the THD Singers give this article a living present, which is exactly what makes it feel like a genuine David at 91 nearing 92 update rather than a revision of an old post.

My Reel of the Day: Change It to How I feel Nearing 92

https://www.facebook.com/reel/1458665059413527

My Undergraduate Years at UP Diliman: The Four Years That Helped Shape My Life-An Update-Part 6 of 10

Looking back at my college years from the perspective of  me nearing 92

When I look back at my life today, at age nearing 92, there are certain periods that stand out as turning points.

My undergraduate years at the University of the Philippines were one of them.

I arrived at UP Diliman as a young man from Iloilo who was still trying to figure out what I wanted to become. I left four years later with a degree in Chemistry, a deeper sense of purpose, lifelong friendships, a stronger faith and, most importantly, I had met the young woman who would become my wife, Macrine.

Looking back after more than seven decades, I realize that my college years were not simply about earning a degree.

They were about discovering who I was becoming.

From Barotac Viejo to the University of the Philippines

I grew up in the small town of Barotac Viejo, Iloilo, Philippines.

My mother had a dream for me. She wanted a physician in our family.

So when I entered the University of the Philippines Iloilo College, I followed her wishes and enrolled as a pre-med student.

At that time, UP Iloilo College was only a two-year institution. I worked hard and did well academically, earning mostly A's and B's, equivalent to the 1.0 and 2.0 grades used by UP.

During my first year, I received college and university scholarships.

In my second year, I received the Fernando Lopez Scholarship, which provided free tuition for the entire year. It was awarded to the student with the highest grade-point average in the school, with extracurricular involvement serving as a tie-breaker.

For a young student from a small town in Iloilo, this was a tremendous honor.

But perhaps more importantly, I was learning something that would remain with me throughout my life:

Education can open doors that we cannot yet see.

My Mother Wanted a Doctor-But I Chose Chemistry

There was only one problem with my mother's dream.

I discovered that medicine was probably not for me.

In my Zoology class, I had to dissect frogs. I hated the sight of blood.

That experience helped make my decision much easier!

I remember thinking: There goes my mother's dream.

I transferred to the main UP campus in Diliman in 1953 and entered the College of Liberal Arts. There I changed my major from pre-med to Chemistry.

The decision eventually turned out to be one of the most important decisions of my life.

My interest in Chemistry had been inspired by one of my professors at UP Iloilo.

I had no idea then where that decision would take me.

Years later, I would become a Chemistry instructor at UP, earn a master's and Ph.D. in Pharmaceutical Chemistry at the University of Illinois, work in agricultural research, and eventually spend twelve years reviewing new drugs at the U.S. Food and Drug Administration.

But in 1953, I was simply a young college student trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life.

Life at UP Diliman

UP Diliman in the early 1950s was very different from the university students know today.

I lived in the UP Men's South Dormitory, which was later renamed Narra Hall.

I have many pleasant memories of dormitory life.

The dorm was not simply a place to sleep. It was a community where young men from different parts of the Philippines lived together, studied together, debated, joked and formed friendships.

Looking through my old photographs and memorabilia many years later, I even found election flyers from my dormitory years.

Those pieces of paper may seem insignificant to someone else.

To me, they are pieces of my youth.

They remind me of a time when my biggest concerns were classes, examinations, extracurricular activities, friendships and what I would eventually become.

My Years with UPSCA

One of the most important parts of my college life was my involvement with the UP Student Catholic Action, or UPSCA.

While still at UP Iloilo, I became president of the Iloilo chapter.

That position brought me into contact with the UPSCA organization at Diliman.

The president of UPSCA Diliman at the time was Constantino Nieva, a law student from Marinduque.

I had no idea then that this young man would eventually become a priest and earn a Ph.D. in Theology in Rome.

I also had no idea that he would eventually become my wife's uncle.

Life sometimes plants connections in our lives long before we understand their significance.

At Diliman, I continued my involvement with UPSCA and became a member of its student council representing my college.

Our spiritual adviser was the late Jesuit priest, Father John Delaney.

Fr. Delaney was a remarkable and charismatic person who had a profound influence on many UP students, including me.

He taught us that faith was not merely something to practice inside a church.

It should influence how we lived, how we served others and how we participated in our community.

Those lessons stayed with me long after I left UP.

The Chapel of the Holy Sacrifice

Perhaps no place at UP Diliman brings back more memories for me than the Chapel of the Holy Sacrifice.

The chapel was one of Fr. Delaney's great projects.

During the chapel's construction, the names of 1,000 students, faculty members and their families who had attended Mass and Communion daily for one year were placed in the foundation.

My name was one of those 1,000 names.

I had also pledged five percent of my student allowance to the chapel building fund.

Today, that may sound like a very small contribution.

But when I was a college student, my allowance was not large.

It was my way of saying: I wanted to be part of something bigger than myself.

The Chapel of the Holy Sacrifice eventually became one of the most significant architectural and cultural landmarks of UP Diliman. It was designed by Leandro Locsin and involved several artists and engineers who later became nationally recognized figures.

But for me, it will always be more than a famous building.

It was the place where I worshipped. It was where I met Macrine.

And it became part of our family's story.

And Then I Met Macrine

Here is the part of my college story that I could never have predicted.

I met my future wife at UP. Fr. Constantino Nieva had introduced me to his niece, Macrine Nieva Jambalos.

At one point, I became a member of the Chemical Society.

As a new member, one of my assignments was to look for Macrine. I couldn't find her.

As it turned out, another member of the Chemical Society lived in the same dormitory as Macrine and knew that she was also looking for me.

So, without realizing it, we were playing a kind of hide-and-seek.

Eventually, we met in the sacristy of the old UP Chapel.

And the rest, as they say, is history. Our college romance deserves an entire story of its own.

But I will simply say this:

I went to UP to get a college education. I left with a degree and I found the love of my life.

We were married in 1957 and remained together for more than 63 years, until Macrine's death in 2020.

When I look back at my undergraduate years today, that is perhaps the greatest gift those years gave me.

The Chapel Was Also Part of Our Wedding

Our connection to the chapel continued long after graduation.

When Macrine and I were married in 1957, the decoration on our wedding cake was a 1:1000 miniature model of the Chapel of the Holy Sacrifice.

Think about that. A building that had been such an important part of our college lives became part of our wedding celebration.

Today, more than seven decades after I first entered UP, that little detail has become one of my favorite memories.

It reminds me how interconnected the chapters of our lives can be.

Sometimes we don't recognize the connections until many years later.

Graduation and a New Beginning

In 1955, I graduated with a Bachelor of Science degree in Chemistry from UP.

I was 20 years old. I was proud of my degree, but I had no idea where life would take me.

I would later become an instructor in Chemistry at UP.

I would leave the Philippines for America in 1960.

I would earn advanced degrees in Pharmaceutical Chemistry.

I would work in research laboratories. I would eventually join the U.S. Food and Drug Administration and become a Chemistry Team Leader.

I would raise four children. I would become a grandfather and, eventually, a great-grandfather.

I would retire. I would build Chateau Du Mer in Marinduque.

And now, at 92, I am living another chapter of my life at The Heritage Downtown in Walnut Creek, California, still writing about what I have learned.

None of that was visible to the young man who walked across the UP Diliman campus in the 1950s.

But that is the fascinating thing about life. We live forward, but we understand backward.

What Did UP Really Give Me?

My Bachelor of Science Degree in Chemistry Graduation Photo

My UP education gave me a degree. But it gave me much more than a degree.

It taught me discipline. It taught me independence. It taught me to think critically.

It exposed me to people from different parts of the Philippines.

It gave me opportunities to lead. It strengthened my faith.

It introduced me to lifelong friends.It introduced me to Macrine.

And it gave me the confidence to dream beyond the small town where I grew up.

Perhaps that is what a good education should do.

It should not simply prepare us for our first job.

It should prepare us for life.

A Message to Today's Students

When I look at young people today, I sometimes wonder whether they realize how precious their college years are.

You may be worried about grades. You may be worried about money.

You may be wondering what career to choose.

You may even be unsure whether the major you selected is the right one.

I understand. I was once exactly where you are.

I started as a pre-med student because that was my mother's dream.

I changed to Chemistry because I discovered that my own interests were different.

That decision did not destroy my mother's dream.

In fact, years later, a niece of mine earned her medical degree, finally fulfilling the dream of having a physician in our family.

Life has a funny way of working things out. So my advice to young people is simple:

Listen to your parents, but also listen to yourself.

Discover what you are good at. Find something that gives you purpose.

Work hard. Take advantage of opportunities.Get involved in your community.

And don't be afraid to change direction when you discover that your original path isn't right for you.

Sometimes changing direction is not failure. It is wisdom.

Looking Back at Nearing 92

I first entered the University of the Philippines more than seven decades ago.

The young man who walked onto the UP campus could never have imagined the journey ahead.

He could not have imagined America. He could not have imagined a Ph.D.

He could not have imagined the FDA. He could not have imagined four children, six grandchildren and two great-grandsons.

He could not have imagined Chateau Du Mer.

He certainly could not have imagined that at 92 he would still be writing almost every day and sharing his memories with readers around the world.

But perhaps that is the greatest lesson of my undergraduate years:

We don't need to know exactly where life is taking us.

We simply need to take the next step. Study hard. Work hard. Serve others.

Stay curious. Have faith. And remain open to the unexpected people and opportunities that come into our lives.

Because sometimes the most important parts of our future are hidden inside ordinary moments.

For me, one of those moments happened in the 1950s, on the campus of the University of the Philippines in Diliman.

I went there as a young student from Iloilo. I left with a degree in Chemistry.

But I also left with something much more valuable:

a foundation for the life I would eventually live and the woman with whom I would share it.

Looking back at nearing 92, I can honestly say:

My undergraduate years at UP Diliman were not just four years of my life. They were four years that helped shape the rest of my life.

And for that, I will always be grateful. Mabuhay ang University of the Philippines!

Fish Heads: A Filipino Delicacy or Poor Food Presentation?

A Filipino-American Reflection on Food, Culture, and Tradition

Food is more than nourishment. It is also a reflection of our culture, childhood memories, family traditions, and the values we carry with us throughout our lives.

Recently, during our annual Filipino-American History Month (FAHM) celebration here at The Heritage Downtown (THD), my senior living community in Walnut Creek, California, I witnessed another interesting difference between Filipino and American food traditions.

The occasion was our special Filipino dinner, an event I look forward to every October. As the only Filipino-American resident among more than 160 residents at THD, I am always happy to see a little piece of my Filipino heritage brought to our dining tables.

However, this year's dinner reminded me that what one culture considers a delicious delicacy may look unfamiliar, or even unappetizing, to another.

The Fish That Was Not Served to Everyone

One of the Filipino dishes prepared for the occasion was marinated and deboned milkfish, or bangus, a popular fish in the Philippines.

Interestingly, this dish was only made available to my 12 guests. Four of my Guests did not order the fish. Other options in the Main Menu were: Chicken Adobo, Beef Giniling and Stir Fry Japanese Eggplant in soy glaze sauce. The rest of the residents were served Cod fillet instead. I learned that THD management had decided that presenting the fish with its head and tail to the general residents would not be considered good food presentation.

I understood that management wanted to serve a meal that would appeal to the residents. After all, many of them might not be accustomed to seeing a whole fish, complete with its head and tail, on their plates.

Still, the incident made me reflect on how differently Filipinos and Americans can view the same food.

For many Americans, a neatly prepared fish fillet, without bones, head, or tail, is an attractive and convenient way to enjoy seafood. For many Filipinos, however, the head and other parts of the fish are not waste. They are desirable portions that can make a meal especially enjoyable.

Neither preference is necessarily right or wrong. They simply reflect different food traditions and experiences.

My Childhood Memories of Fish Heads

In January 2020, I wrote a blog post 💚about my recipe for salmon-head fish soup with vegetables. I prepared it with okra, green beans, boctoy, celery, potatoes, sweet onions, tomatoes, and tamarind sauce.

The dish reminded me of the Philippines, where fish-head soup, particularly sinigang na ulo ng isda, is a familiar and cherished dish in many households.

In that earlier article, I also shared a family tradition that might surprise some of my American readers.

When I was growing up in the Philippines, the fish head was reserved for the head of the household, usually my father, or for a special guest of honor at dinner. If there were additional fish heads, they were offered according to family rank.

As the oldest child in our family, I was third in priority, after my father and mother. Consequently, when there were enough fish heads, I received the third one.

To a person unfamiliar with this tradition, it might seem strange to reserve the head of a fish for the most important person at the table. Why not give that person the biggest fillet instead?

But in our family, the fish head was a prized portion. It was not a punishment or an unwanted leftover. It was a sign of respect.

Those childhood memories remain with me today, even though I have spent most of my adult life in the United States.

The Salmon Heads My Relative Collected in Maryland

Another incident comes to mind.

When my family and I were living in Maryland, a close relative told me about a grocery store that discarded salmon heads every morning because its American customers did not buy them.

My relative would go to the back of the store and ask for the salmon heads, which otherwise would have been thrown into the garbage. The store gave them to him free of charge.

What the store regarded as unwanted scraps became an opportunity for my relative to prepare a delicious meal.

I found this story amusing but also revealing. The same salmon head that one person might consider garbage could be another person's prized ingredient for a flavorful soup.

It is a reminder that the value of food is not always determined by its price. Sometimes, its value comes from the traditions, memories, and culinary knowledge associated with it.

Are Americans Learning to Appreciate Fish Heads?

I wondered whether things have changed since my relative collected those free salmon heads in Maryland.

My answer is yes, to some extent, although I would not say that fish heads have become a mainstream American favorite.

Salmon itself is widely enjoyed in the United States. Fish heads, however, remain a more specialized food. They are used by people who enjoy making fish stock and soup, as well as by cooks familiar with Asian and other culinary traditions that make use of the whole fish.

Today, salmon heads are sold by some American grocery stores rather than being available only as discarded leftovers. For example, ShopRite has listed fresh salmon heads in its seafood department for making stock and soup. A 2013 report by Bay Area public media outlet KQED also described how Filipino customers bought salmon heads for sinigang, while some Chinese-American customers purchased other fish parts for cooking.

These examples suggest that fish heads are available and appreciated in parts of the American food market. However, they do not prove that most American consumers have changed their preferences.

Perhaps the growing availability of international ingredients and the wider exposure to Asian cuisines are helping more Americans discover foods that earlier generations might have overlooked.

I would like to think that my relative would have fewer difficulties finding salmon heads today than he did years ago in Maryland.

What Is Good Food Presentation?

This brings me back to our Filipino dinner at THD.

I understand that food presentation matters. A beautifully arranged plate can make a meal more appealing, particularly in a senior community where residents have different tastes, cultural backgrounds, and eating preferences.

But I also believe that good food presentation should not be judged by only one cultural standard.

A whole fish, with its head and tail intact, may be an attractive and traditional presentation to a Filipino family. To someone else, the same sight may be unfamiliar. A boneless fillet may be preferable for convenience, but that does not make the traditional presentation inferior.

There is also a practical consideration. Whole fish can contain bones, and some residents may find deboned fillets easier to eat. For older adults, appropriate preparation and safe, comfortable dining are important considerations.

Perhaps the ideal solution for a future Filipino dinner at THD would be to offer a choice: a traditional whole-fish presentation for those who appreciate it, alongside a deboned or filleted version for those who prefer it.

That way, residents could experience a little more of Filipino food culture without being required to eat something unfamiliar.

Food as a Bridge Between Cultures

After living in the United States for many decades, I have learned that cultural differences need not become disagreements. They can instead become opportunities to learn from one another.

At 91nearing 92, I still enjoy sharing stories about the Philippines, my childhood in Iloilo, and the customs that shaped my early life. Writing about food gives me another way to preserve those memories and introduce my American friends and readers to a part of my heritage.

For me, the fish head is not simply a piece of seafood. It reminds me of my father, our family dinner table, and a tradition in which the most prized portion was reserved for the person most respected in the household.

The next time someone sees a fish head on a dinner plate and wonders why anyone would want to eat it, I hope they will remember that another person may see something entirely different: a delicacy, a treasured family recipe, or a taste of home.

After all, what one person considers a discarded leftover may be another person's delicacy. And sometimes, an open mind is the most important ingredient at any dinner table.

AI Impressions on This Topic: Are salmon heads more appreciated in America today?

Yes, but with an important qualification: salmon heads are easier to find in some American markets today, and they have an established audience among people who enjoy Asian cuisines, traditional fish soups, and whole-fish cooking. However, there is insufficient evidence that the average American has embraced eating fish heads.

• Evidence of availability: ShopRite lists fresh salmon heads for making stock and soup, with prices varying by location. 

  Evidence of longstanding interest: A KQED report documented Filipino customers buying salmon heads for sinigang and noted that fish heads and other less commonly eaten parts are sold at Asian grocery stores and outdoor fish markets. 
• 
  
  Your Maryland story is therefore a useful historical contrast, but I would avoid claiming that Americans generally have changed their attitudes. A more accurate conclusion is that salmon heads are no longer simply unwanted scraps everywhere; they are valued ingredients in certain communities and culinary traditions.

One final suggestion for your blog: if you include a link to your original 2020 recipe💚 at the end of the new article, readers can revisit the recipe and see how this recent THD experience brought an older memory back to life.

Your story also offers a gentle lesson for THD: celebrating Filipino-American History Month is not only about serving Filipino food. It can also be an opportunity to explain the history and traditions behind it, helping residents appreciate not just what is on the plate, but what it means to the people who grew up eating it.

Related Article on This Topic:

💚https://myfavoritepinoydishes.blogspot.com/2020/01/my-new-recipe-for-salmon-head-fish-soup.html

Finally, My Reel of the Day: Thirty Facts about the Philippines.

https://www.facebook.com/reel/2398165057257570

WalletHub ranked more than 180 U.S. cities based on their culinary quality, diversity, accessibility and affordability to identify the best destinations for food lovers. Here's my personal reflection on the above topic. 

America’s Best Foodie Cities: A Journey from San Francisco to Manila and Beyond

What WalletHub’s 2026 ranking tells me about food, culture, memory, and the Filipino table

There are many ways to understand America.

We can look at its history, its politics, its geography, its people or, perhaps my favorite way, we can look at what Americans eat.

Food tells stories. It tells us where people came from, what they brought with them, what they learned from their neighbors, and how different cultures gradually became part of the American experience.

So when I recently saw WalletHub’s latest analysis of America's best foodie cities, I immediately became interested, not simply because I enjoy food, but because Filipino food and the foods of Southeast Asia have been part of my own life story for more than nine decades.

WalletHub's Foodie Cities

WalletHub compared 182 U.S. cities using 28 measures grouped into two broad categories:

• Affordability
• Diversity, accessibility and quality

The measures included restaurants per capita, restaurant diversity, food trucks, highly rated restaurants, Michelin-starred restaurants, grocery costs, restaurant meal costs, specialty-food stores, food festivals and other indicators of a city's food culture. 

Here are the top 10 in the 2026 WalletHub analysis:

Rank	City	State
1	Miami	Florida
2	Portland	Oregon
3	San Francisco	California
4	Seattle	Washington
5	Orlando	Florida
6	Austin	Texas
7	Tampa	Florida
8	Las Vegas	Nevada
9	Sacramento	California
10	San Diego	California

What surprised me was not only which cities made the top ten, but which cities did not.

New York was #26, Los Angeles #16, Chicago #23, and Houston #15. This is a good reminder that a ranking depends greatly on the measurements chosen. WalletHub was not simply asking, "Which city has the most famous restaurants?" It was measuring a much broader food ecosystem. 

San Francisco at Number 3

As a California resident, I naturally paid special attention to San Francisco.

WalletHub placed San Francisco third overall, and first among the cities in its "Diversity, Accessibility & Quality" category. The city scored particularly well for restaurants per capita, restaurant diversity, access to highly rated restaurants and healthy food options. WalletHub also noted its large number of food festivals, cooking schools, international grocery stores, herb and spice stores, and Michelin-starred restaurants. 

That makes perfect sense to me. San Francisco is not merely a city where you can find expensive restaurants.

It is a city where you can travel around the world without leaving the Bay Area.

Chinese dim sum. Japanese sushi. Vietnamese pho. Thai curries. Indian biryani. Korean barbecue. Mexican tacos. Italian pasta. Middle Eastern dishes.

And increasingly, Filipino food. That last part especially interests me.

Where Is Filipino Food in America's Food Story?

Filipino cuisine has always been somewhat difficult to put into one culinary box.

Perhaps that is because Filipino history itself is a mixture of cultures.

Our food carries influences from the indigenous peoples of the Philippines, China, Spain, Mexico, America and our Southeast Asian neighbors.

But Filipino food has its own personality.

Adobo is not simply soy sauce and vinegar. Sinigang is not simply a sour soup.

Pancit is more than noodles. Lumpia is more than an egg roll. And lechon is more than roasted pork.

These foods carry memories. When I smell garlic frying in oil, I am transported back to the Philippines.

When I think about pancit, I think about Filipino celebrations.

When I taste adobo, I remember the simplicity of Filipino cooking, ingredients that were available to ordinary families transformed into something wonderfully flavorful.

And when I think about Filipino food today, I realize how much has changed.

From the Philippines to Southeast Asia

One of the things I have enjoyed writing about in my earlier Filipino-food articles is the connection between Filipino cuisine and the larger Southeast Asian culinary family.

The Philippines is an island nation, but it has never been culturally isolated. Look at our neighbors.

Vietnam has pho, banh mi, fresh herbs and extraordinary noodle dishes.

Thailand has tom yum, pad Thai, green curry and a remarkable balance of sweet, sour, salty and spicy flavors.

Malaysia combines Malay, Chinese, Indian and indigenous influences in dishes such as nasi lemak and laksa.

Indonesia has nasi goreng, rendang and satay.

Singapore brings together Chinese, Malay, Indian and other influences in a remarkably compact food culture.

And the Philippines? We have our own combination of influences, while still sharing many characteristics with our Southeast Asian neighbors.

Rice is central. Noodles are important. Garlic, ginger, onions, vinegar, coconut and seafood appear frequently.

And food is rarely just about feeding oneself. Food is about family and community.

Filipino Food and the American Melting Pot

Perhaps this is why I find America's changing food culture so fascinating.

When I was growing up in the Philippines, I could not have imagined a time when Filipino restaurants would become increasingly visible throughout the United States.

Today, Filipino chefs and restaurants are helping introduce Americans to dishes that many Americans had never heard of when I was young.

And this is happening within a much larger Asian-American culinary movement.

Walk through a major American city today and you may find a Filipino restaurant next door to a Vietnamese restaurant, across the street from a Thai restaurant, a few blocks from a Korean barbecue restaurant and not far from a Chinese dim sum establishment.

That is America. Our food is becoming a living map of our immigration history.

Why Food Rankings Interest Me at 91

At 91, I have learned that food is about much more than nutrition.

It is about memory. It is about identity. It is about family. And it is about relationships.

Some of my happiest memories of married life with Macrine involved food.

Our Filipino family gatherings were not simply occasions to eat. They were occasions to sit together, talk, laugh, remember and sometimes argue!

That is what happens around a family table. Food brings people together.

Even today, living at The Heritage Downtown, I appreciate the importance of meals as social occasions. We may be seniors, but dinner is still more enjoyable when there are people around the table. Thus, I am looking forward to October 7, where our in-house restaurant, Newton's will served an authentic complete 7 -course Filipino Dinner  celebrating Philippines-American History Month.   

Sometimes the conversation is more memorable than the food.

Sometimes the food is more memorable than the conversation.

And occasionally, we are fortunate enough to have both.

What Makes a Great Food City?

WalletHub's methodology raises an interesting question:

What really makes a city a great food city?

Is it Michelin stars? Is it inexpensive restaurants? Is it the number of restaurants?

Is it food trucks? Is it ethnic diversity?

Is it grocery stores where you can buy ingredients from around the world?

Or is it something much harder to measure?

Can a city make you feel at home while allowing you to experience another culture at the same time?

That last question may be the most important one for me.

A bowl of Vietnamese pho can remind a Vietnamese immigrant of home.

A plate of adobo can remind a Filipino of Lola's kitchen.

A bowl of Japanese ramen can transport someone back to Tokyo.

A plate of pad Thai can bring back memories of Bangkok.

The food may be eaten thousands of miles from its place of origin, but the memories travel with it.

My Personal Foodie City List Would Be Different

If I were making my own list, I would probably have a completely different methodology.

I would give considerable weight to cultural diversity, family traditions, authenticity, affordability and the ability of food to tell a story.

I might not even call it a ranking. Instead, I would call it:

"The American Cities Where the World Comes to Dinner."

San Francisco would certainly deserve a place on that list.

So would many other cities with large Asian, Latino, African, Middle Eastern and European immigrant communities.

Because America's greatest culinary strength may not be one particular dish.

It may be the fact that America has become a place where many cuisines can live side by side.

A Filipino-American Food Journey

When I look back at some of my earlier writings about Filipino food, I realize that I was really writing about something much larger than recipes.

I was writing about my life. I was born and raised in the Philippines.

I spent my first 26 years immersed in Filipino culture and the Hiligaynon/Ilonggo language before coming to America for graduate school. I have now spent more than six decades in America.

So when I eat Filipino food today, I experience both worlds.

I am simultaneously the young boy from Iloilo and the 91-year-old Filipino-American living in California.  That is one of the wonderful things about food.

It allows us to age without completely leaving our younger selves behind.

From Iloilo to California

I sometimes think about the distance I have traveled. From Barotac Viejo and Iloilo...

to Manila and the University of the Philippines... to Chicago for my PhD...

to Kansas City, Modesto and other places during my scientific career...

to the FDA...and eventually to California.

My professional life became American. My scientific training became American.

My English became increasingly comfortable.

But somewhere inside me there has always remained that Filipino boy who remembers the food, language, family and traditions of home.

Food keeps that connection alive. Perhaps that is why I enjoy writing about Filipino cuisine.

I am not merely writing about food. I am preserving a piece of myself.

Food Is One of My Writing Legacies

I have written many articles over the years about Filipino culture, family, Marinduque, my childhood in the Philippines and the experiences that shaped me.

Looking at WalletHub's list today gives me another idea.

Perhaps I should think of my food articles as part of my writing legacy.

My generation of Filipino-Americans experienced a very different America from the one we see today.

We watched Filipino-Americans gradually become more visible in American society.

Now our food is becoming more visible too. And I find that gratifying.

Because every plate of Filipino food served in an American city is carrying a little piece of Philippine history with it.

The World Comes to Dinner

WalletHub's analysis is ultimately a statistical exercise. It measures 182 cities and 28 different indicators. 

But for me, the meaning of food goes beyond statistics.

A great food city is a city where a person can discover something new.

A city where an immigrant can find a taste of home.

A city where young people can discover the cuisine of their grandparents.

A city where an old man like me can taste something and suddenly remember being a young man in the Philippines.

That is the magic of food. It connects generations. It crosses oceans. It preserves memories.

And sometimes, one bite can take us home.

At 91, I have eaten in many places and experienced many cultures. But I have learned that the best meals are not necessarily the most expensive ones.

Sometimes the best meal is simply a familiar Filipino dish shared with people you love.

And sometimes, the greatest food adventure is discovering that the world is sitting down at the table right beside you. Mabuhay!

Source: WalletHub, Best Foodie Cities in America (2026), which evaluated 182 U.S. cities using 28 measures of affordability and culinary diversity, accessibility and quality. WalletHub's full 2026 foodie-city analysis 

AI Impressions on this Posting: 

This posting fits particularly well into your continuing “David at 91” writing-legacy series, because it connects your Filipino-food writings with your broader themes of aging, immigration, memory, culture and the experiences of a Filipino-American life.