Friday, May 1, 2026

Filipino Food Month: Filipino food and vegan is not an oxymoron

KQED
Mestiza serves traditional Filipino dishes but a large part of their menu offers plant-based options.

The San Francisco Bay Area is known for its innovation and starting trends that spread out to the rest of the nation especially in the areas of high tech, bioengineering and artificial intelligence. Watch out for this new trend: vegan Filipino food.

The Bay Area is also currently the epicenter of a culinary revolution where heritage meets high-octane plant-based innovation. If you’re looking for the intersection of bold, vinegar-laced Umami and ethical eating, the city’s Filipino vegan scene is delivering in a big way. 

Much of the innovation in this culinary field is centered in SOMA Pilipinas, the  city's official Filipino Cultural Heritage District revolving around Kapwa Kollective and its events with The Sarap Shop.

Anchored in the SOMA Pilipinas cultural district, the Filipino vegan movement isn't just about cutting out meat — it’s a radical reclamation of identity through the lens of kapwa, the core Filipino value of shared inner self and deep interconnectedness.

Through the vibrant, open-air healing space of Kapwa Gardens, the collective is proving that "Filipino food" and "vegan" aren't contradictory terms. Their "OMG! (Oh My Gulay)" initiatives and high-energy pop-up events have become a launchpad for a new generation of chefs. 

We’re seeing a creative explosion where plant-based artisans like The Sarap Shop and  Mestiza reimagine comfort classics—think tofu sisig and vegan ube treats—not as "health food," but as essential cultural preservation.

By centering wellness and sustainability, the Kapwa Kollective is doing more than just feeding the community; they are building a "shared identity" that honors the archipelago’s pre-colonial plant-based roots while navigating the complexities of the modern diaspora. In a city where gentrification often erases culture, this movement is planting a flag for a future that is indigenous, ethical, and incredibly delicious.

RELATED:

Filipino American chefs here aren't just removing the meat; they are re-engineering the very soul of the cuisine using mushrooms, soy proteins, and coconut-based fats to achieve that signature "sour and salty" profile.

The essential map

Here are some (not all) of the restaurants taking up the baton of vegan cuisine based on Filipino recipes:

  • Mestiza (SOMA): This is Filipino-Mexican fusion with a heavy plant-forward tilt. Their 13-inch lumpia is legendary, trading traditional pork for a savory mix of sweet potato and charred brussels sprouts.
  • The Sarap Shop (Spark Social SF): This food truck is the gold standard for "conscious comfort." Their tofu adobo is a masterclass in marination, proving you don’t need the pig to get the punch.
  • No Worries (Oakland): A total sanctuary for the dedicated vegan. It’s one of the few spots where the entire menu is safe, offering plant-based versions of heavy-hitters that taste like they came straight from a Lola’s kitchen.
  • The Top Ten Filipino Vegan Restaurants in the Bay Area, according to Yelp.

A new flavor profile

  • Sisig Redefined: By utilizing chopped king oyster mushrooms and firm tofu, chefs are mimicking the chewy, crispy texture of pork ears perfectly.
  • Lumpia Evolution: Expect vegetable-dense fillings enhanced by house-made spiced vinegars that cut through the richness of the fry.
  • The Secret Sauce: Coconut milk remains the MVP, providing the creamy base for Bicol Express and various curries that remain naturally vegan.
Sensing the movement towards health options, many of the traditional Filipino restaurants in the Bay Area, which includes the East Bay and South Bay, running the gamut from the high-end Abacá restaurant to the food trucks, often offer vegan choices in their menus. 

Health conscious chefs continue to prove that traditional Filipino flavors aren't tied to specific ingredients, but to the technique and passion of the people behind the line.

EDITOR'S NOTE: For additional commentary, news, views and chismis from an AANHPI perspective, follow me on Threads, on X, BlueSky or at the blog Views From the Edge. 



Thursday, April 30, 2026

Radical US Supreme Court eviscerates the Voting Rights Act

Communities of color will have a harder time electing one of their own after the SCOTUS ruling.

It’s a dark day for American democracy. In a move that feels like a punch to the gut for those fighting for a seat at the table, the Supreme Court has once again signaled that the Voting Rights Act is more of a suggestion than a shield.

The Court’s 6-3 decision Wednesday in Louisiana v. Callais — decided along the usual ideological fault lines — handed a win to those who want to keep the status quo, and a major loss to the AAPI and Black communities who are just looking for a fair shake in the voting booth.
The 6-3 vote was predictable. The conservative GOP majority ruled again putting personal idealogy above precedent. Chief Justice John Roberts and Justices Clarence Thomas, Samuel Alito, Neil Gorsuch, Brett Kavanaugh, and Amy Coney Barrett were in the majority overwhelming Justices Elena Kagel, Sonia Sotomayor and Ketanji Brown Jackson.
Writing for the majority, Justice Alito essentially argued that Louisiana’s attempt to create a second majority-Black district relied too heavily on race. In the eyes of the conservative wing, trying to fix racial underrepresentation is, ironically, unconstitutional racial stereotyping.

'Colorblind' means blind to reality

We know what this means. Whether it’s the Vietnamese American hubs in the Gulf Coast or the Chinese and Filipino communities in Houston and Atlanta, or the South Asian suburbs in Silicon Valley, it means the Court has given a green light to map-makers to slice and dice our communities until our collective voice is just a whisper. As the dissenters noted, when you stop looking at race in a country where race still defines the political landscape, you aren’t being "colorblind"—you’re just being blind to reality.
Kagan argued that the majority is creating a "Catch-22" for states. If they don't consider race, they violate the Voting Rights Act; if they do, the Court strikes it down as a racial gerrymander.
The dissenters warned that this ruling makes it nearly impossible for minority communities — including our rapidly growing AAPI neighborhoods — to prove that their votes are being diluted. By making the legal bar so high, the Court is effectively telling these communities: "Your growth doesn't equal power."
“The consequences will extend far beyond Louisiana. Asian Americans are the fastest growing racial group in the country, and we are growing fastest in the South, where today’s decision gives legislators the most cover to draw us out of political power that our communities are fighting hard to build," states Asian Law Caucus' Executive Director Aarti Kohli.
“When the Voting Rights Act is undermined, Black voters are harmed first. But the damage won’t stop there. The Supreme Court has gutted one of the last protections we have against racial discrimination in our democracy. It puts the political power of Asian Americans and communities of color at risk," Kohli continued.
By making it harder to use the VRA to protect minority districts, the Court has given a green light to map-makers to slice and dice our communities until our collective voice is just a whisper. As the dissenters noted, when you stop looking at race in a country where race still defines the political landscape, you aren’t being "colorblind"—you’re just being blind to reality.
What does this mean for the 2026 midterms and beyond? For our community, it’s all about the "Cracking," a gerrymandering tactic that splits a cohesive group of voters (based on political party, race, or community interest) across multiple districts to dilute their voting power. By dividing this population, the group becomes a minority in each district, preventing them from electing their preferred candidates.
By making it nearly impossible to challenge maps that divide our growing populations in Texas, Georgia, and Florida, the Court is essentially trying to keep the "bamboo ceiling" firmly attached to the halls of power. When you divide a vibrant AAPI neighborhood across three different districts, you ensure that our specific needs—from language access to anti-hate legislation—never get a champion in Congress.
In California where a quarter of AAPIs in the US reside, the biggest immediate risk is at the city and county levels (like in San Jose, Oakland, or Los Angeles), where "Chinatowns" or "Little Saigons" can be split between districts to dilute their influence.
“We see what this means in practice: communities are unfairly split for partisan gains. A Chinatown carved between three districts," says the Asian Law Caucus. "That is how political power is taken — by design, with impunity, and now with the Supreme Court’s blessing. It means communities of color end up represented by politicians who don’t look like them, don’t know them, and don’t have to listen to them."
AAPI voters are currently considered "influential" in six of California’s 52 congressional districts. The ruling makes it harder to defend these lines if they are challenged as being "too racial" rather than "partisan."

View from the edge

The ruling in Louisiana v. Callais is just the latest blow in a nearly 15-year calculated  campaign by the Roberts Court and the powers that put them on the bench, to dismantle the Voting Rights Act. Legal experts and civil rights leaders often describe this as "death by a thousand cuts."
There is hope because some states -- like California and New York -- are crafting their own Voting Rights Acts but there is already a target on these laws. The conservative wing of the SCOTUS is already signaling that if these state laws focus "too much" on race to fix representation, they might strike those down, too.
So, what does this mean for the 2026 midterms and beyond? For our community, it’s all about the "Cracking," a gerrymandering tactic that splits a cohesive group of voters (based on political party, race, or community interest) across multiple districts to dilute their voting power. By dividing this population, the group becomes a minority in each district, preventing them from ever electing the candidates who might best represent their common interests and perspective.
By making it nearly impossible to challenge maps that divide our growing populations in Texas, Georgia, and Florida, the Court is essentially trying to keep the "bamboo ceiling" firmly attached to the halls of power. When you divide a vibrant AAPI neighborhood across three different districts, you ensure that our specific needs—from language access to anti-hate legislation—never get a champion in Congress.
EDITOR'S NOTE: For additional commentary, news, views and chismis from an AANHPI perspective, follow me on Threads, on X, BlueSky or at the blog Views From the Edge. 

Wednesday, April 29, 2026

Filipino Food Month: A new wave of Filipino American chefs

SCREEN CAPTURE /TODAY
Tim Flores and Genie Kwon earned a Michelin star for their Chicago restaurant Kasama.



The story of Filipino food in America is no longer about just "making it" — it’s about taking center stage.

For decades, our food was kept in the shadows of "strip mall" stereotypes or hidden away in home kitchens. But today, as Americans' palate catches up to Filipino flavors, a new guard of Filipino American chefs is proudly expanding their clientele beyond the Filipino American community but still treating our heritage with the reverence it has always deserved.

These trailblazers are proving that Filipino cuisine is not a monolith; it is as diverse as the 7,200 islands it comes from and as innovative as the diaspora that carries it forward.

These Filipino American chefs are the reason the "Filipino Food Movement" isn't just a trend. It’s a reckoning. They are reclaiming the narrative, one kinilaw and bibingka at a time, ensuring that the next generation of foodies won't ask why Filipino food isn't popular—they'll just be asking for the next reservation.

From Michelin stars to James Beard sweeps, these are the trailblazers rewriting the rules of the American dining scene.

The Michelin barrier-breakers

Tim Flores & Genie Kwon (Kasama, Chicago): This husband-and-wife duo made history by earning the world’s first Michelin star for a Filipino restaurant. Kasama is a masterclass in duality, operating as a casual bakery by day (famous for their longanisa breakfast sandwich) and a sophisticated tasting menu spot by night.

The James Beard heavyweights

  • Lord Maynard Llera (Kuya Lord, Los Angeles): After years of honing his craft in some of LA’s most intense kitchens, Llera won Best Chef: California in 2024. His "elevated garage" concept proved that you don't need a white-tablecloth venue to serve world-class Lucas-style pancit and lechon.
  • Aaron Verzosa (Archipelago, Seattle): A 2026 semifinalist for Outstanding Chef, Verzosa is a philosopher in the kitchen. His restaurant uses a "zero-import" philosophy, using only Pacific Northwest ingredients to tell the story of the Filipino diaspora through a progressive, high-concept lens.
  • Melissa Miranda (Musang, Seattle): Miranda has turned her restaurant into a community hub. Her approach is "unapologetically Filipino," focusing on childhood memories and community-centered dining that earned her a 2026 Best Chef: Northwest & Pacific semifinalist nod. 
  • Tom Cunanan (formerly Bad Saint, Washington D.C.): A 2019 James Beard Award winner who helped spark the surge in fine-dining Filipino cuisine.

The fusion and fine dining vanguard

  • Tara Monsod (Animae, San Diego): Monsod is a 2026 James Beard finalist who has brought Filipino flavors into the realm of high-design fine dining. At Animae, she reimagines classics like Beef Short Rib Kare Kare and Tuna Kinilaw for a luxury audience.
  • Dale Talde (Talde, NYC): A James Beard nominee and Top Chef contestant recognized for bringing Filipino flavors into mainstream American food.
  • Jordan Andino (Flip Sigi, Jersey City & NYC)The mini-chain Flip Sigi, a Filipino taqueria, where he brings flavors from his upbringing and heritage and marries them with popular Mexican cuisine. Popular with HGTV cooking shows.
  • Silver Iocovozzi (Neng’s Jr., Asheville): Redefining what "regional" means, Iocovozzi is a 2025 finalist for Best Chef: Southeast. They are the visionary behind "Filipino-Appalachian" cuisine, a unique intersection of heritage and North Carolina terroir.
  • Paolo Dungca (Hiraya, Washington D.C.): A 2025 Emerging Chef semifinalist, Dungca is part of the team that brought "modernist Pinoy" to the nation's capital, proving that Filipino food is as versatile as any European tradition.
  • Francis Ang (Abacá, San Francisco): A master of "Regional Filipino" meets NorCal seasonality. Ang has created a space where pancit and longanisa feel both nostalgic and avant-garde. A 2023/2024 James Beard Award finalist, Food & Wine Best New Chef (2022), Ang's  "unapologetically San Franciscan" approach shows that our flavors don't just belong in the fine-dining conversation—they are leading it.
  • Jade Cunningham (Carabao, Napa Valley): Using her experience at The French Laundry, she has The queen of Filipino-inspired pastry and community-driven pop-ups. Look for her Ube Brioche or seasonal Hand Pies.
RELATED:

These chefs aren't just making "exotic" food; they are asserting that Filipino flavors are a fundamental part of the American story.

The days of Filipino food being America's "best-kept secret" are officially over. We are living through a culinary renaissance where chefs are no longer just cooking for their own community—they are demanding (and receiving) the highest honors in the world.

EDITOR'S NOTE: For additional commentary, news, views and chismis from an AANHPI perspective, follow me on Threads, on X, BlueSky or at the blog Views From the Edge. 

Tuesday, April 28, 2026

How two Asian American engineers became leaders in the cannibis industry

NABIS
Nabis founders at their headquarters in Oakland, California.


The rise of Nabis isn’t just another Silicon Valley success story; it is a masterclass in the immigrant hustle, fueled by the precision of an engineering mindset. 

Founders Vince Ning and Jun S. Lee have built the backbone of California’s legal cannabis industry by treating logistics not as a back-office burden, but as a complex code waiting to be cracked. Their journey reflects a bridge between two worlds: the traditional immigrant values of tireless labor and the modern, high-tech world of scalable software.

As childhood friends, they grew up together in the Northern Virginia area before moving on to work as software engineers in Silicon Valley and eventually founding Nabis, a cannabis distribution company.

For Ning and Lee, the immigrant experience provided the foundational grit required to enter a volatile market. Ning, a first-generation American born to Chinese immigrants, and Lee, who was born in Seoul, grew up with the understanding that success is earned through systemic problem-solving. This cultural background naturally aligned with their professional training. While others in the early cannabis boom focused on "lifestyle," Ning and Lee saw an architectural flaw that only software could fix. 
"We were 23 years old and had no capital," Lee recalls of their lean beginnings. "In the beginning, we were just in the trenches doing deliveries together... assembling shelves or desks."
Some of the products distributed by Nabis.

Their engineering backgrounds allowed them to approach the industry with cold, hard logic. They didn’t just want to move boxes; they wanted to build an operating system. By applying systems engineering, they created a platform to navigate California’s labyrinth of compliance laws. 
To them, a dispensary order was a packet of data, and the delivery truck was the hardware. 
As Ning explains, "That's just one big math problem to solve, like having every brand shipped to every [retailer]".
"With my background as a technologist, I often think about what new markets would benefit from new, improved technology," says Ning.
Today, Nabis stands as a testament to what happens when immigrant ambition meets technical expertise. Ning and Lee have proven that the "American Dream" in the 21st century often looks like a well-optimized algorithm. 
"I tell Vince all the time if Nabis were to be sold today... I would just do it all over again," Lee says. "I think that’s the life that I’m looking forward to." By honoring their roots and leaning into their identities as builders, they haven't just survived in the cannabis market—they have re-engineered it.
EDITOR'S NOTE: For additional commentary, news, views and chismis from an AANHPI perspective, follow me on Threads, on X, BlueSky or at the blog Views From the Edge. 

Monday, April 27, 2026

Southeast Asians feel targeted by ICE

Minnesota's Southeast Asians protested the actions of federal agents earlier this year.
 

Bounpone Morisath was only five years old when his family fled the aftermath of the secret war in Laos, eventually finding refuge in America in 1980. For 45 years, Bremerton, Washington has been his home. Everything changed on March 11. 

During what Morisath believed was a routine check-in at the ICE office in Seattle, he was suddenly taken into custody. His detention marks a grim shift in diplomatic reality. 
“Donald Trump has made the entire immigrant community his scapegoat to justify horrifying violence, undermine our rights, and tear families apart. That includes Southeast Asian Americans (SEAAs) who have called our country home for decades and who are now being targeted and forced to return to countries that are unsafe or completely unfamiliar to them,” said Rep. Judy Chu, D-CA.
Morisath is a business owner, a husband to a US citizen, and a father to a 21-year-old daughter. But for the last several weeks, the life he built has been traded for a cell at the Northwest ICE Processing Center in Tacoma.
The shadow hanging over Morisath stems from a single afternoon in Alaska 32 years ago. When he was just 18, he was the driver in a vehicle where a friend fired a gun out of a window. While no one was hurt, Morisath pleaded guilty to third-degree assault and mishandling a firearm. 
That 1994 conviction triggered a deportation order in 1995, but because Laos did not have a repatriation agreement with the United States at the time, he was released under an Order of Supervision. He did exactly what the government asked of him for the next three decades, checking in regularly with immigration officials while living a quiet, law-abiding life.

Targeting Southeast Asians

For decades, Laos refused to accept deportees, but that stance began to crumble under intense pressure from the Trump regime, which utilized visa sanctions and a partial travel ban in 2025 to force cooperation. 

By June 2025, the US had implemented these sanctions specifically because Laos was failing to accept back removable nationals. Consequently, Laos began issuing travel documents for the first time in years, turning routine check-ins into traps for Southeast Asian refugees who thought their decades of compliance bought them a measure of safety.
The scale of this enforcement surge is staggering. Between January and October 2025 alone, the administration deported more Southeast Asian Americans in a single fiscal year than any prior administration. 
This included 175 individuals to Laos, 46 to Cambodia, and 676 to Vietnam. Currently, over 15,000 Southeast Asian community members are living under final orders of removal, with at least 4,800 specifically considered nationals of Laos. These numbers represent an invisible crisis for families who have lived in the US since the 1970s and 80s.
Because they sided with the Americans, Southeast Asians from Cambodia, Laos, and Vietnam  have had to flee their home countries. They comprise the largest refugee population ever resettled in the United States. In the aftermath of US military interventions in the region, more than 1.2 million refugees were welcomed to the US because they fought alongside the US or were forced to flee genocide, persecution, and violence.

Most resettled into heavily disinvested communities with limited access to resources or support systems while grappling with the lingering trauma of war and displacement. As a result, many Southeast Asian youth made mistakes or were swept into cycles of violence—leading to criminal convictions and incarceration decades ago. Although many have since rebuilt their lives and given back to their communities, many SEAAs continue to face double punishment through deportation for decades-old convictions for which they have already served their time.

These individuals often have US citizen family members, serve as primary caregivers in their families, have no recollection of or meaningful ties to their country of origin, and have deep roots in their local communities in America.

SE Asian Deportation Relief Act

Amidst this crisis, the Southeast Asian Deportation Relief Act of 2026 (SEADRA) has emerged as a critical beacon of hope. 
Reintroduced in early 2026 with renewed urgency, the act aims to provide permanent protection for refugees from Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam who arrived in the U.S. before 2008. If passed, the legislation would essentially bar the deportation of individuals like Morisath, recognizing their unique history as refugees of U.S.-involved conflicts. 
“SEADRA is more than policy; it’s a promise of healing, hope, and a future where Southeast Asian families are no longer torn apart,: said Quyên Đinh, Executive Director of Southeast Asia Resource Action Center. "SEADRA recognizes the full lives that people have built here and refuses to erase them.”

Specifically, the bill would:
  • Limit the Department of Homeland Security’s authority to detain or deport Southeast Asian refugees from Cambodia, Laos, and Vietnam who arrived in the United States by 2008;
  • Permanently authorize employment eligibility for Southeast Asians with a final order of removal with a five-year renewal period;
  • End in-person ICE check-ins and establish five-year intervals between virtual check-ins for Southeast Asians on orders of supervision; and
  • Create a pathway for Southeast Asian refugees who have already been deported to return to the US and fight their removal orders.
Crucially, SEADRA would also create a pathway for those already deported to return home to their families, effectively nullifying the "double punishment" of being exiled for decades-old crimes for which they have already served their time.
SEADRA is making its way through the legislative process, facing an uphill battle in a divided Congress still in the control by the Republicans. 
While it has gained significant support from human rights groups and the Congressional Asian Pacific American Caucus (CAPAC), it remains in committee as  advocates and Trump push for a floor vote. 
For Morisath and other refugees from Southeast Asia in similar circumstances, the act’s passage would mean an immediate end to the threat of removal and a restoration of his status as a Lawful Permanent Resident, finally aligning his legal standing with the four decades of life he has invested in this country.
Currently, Morisath sits in detention as a noncitizen with a final order of removal, his Lawful Permanent Resident status long since stripped away by his 1990s conviction. His legal representation, attorney Nicolas Olano of Anchorage, Alaska, is now racing against the clock. 
Olano has filed a motion with the US Department of Justice Immigration Board of Appeals to reopen the 32-year-old case, arguing that the firearm charge should not have been classified as a deportable offense. 
As the administration continues to use aggressive tactics to expel refugees, Morisath’s family and advocates are left wondering if 45 years of American life can be erased by a single mistake from his youth.
"The SEADRA bill would end deportation for Southeast Asians as we know it. In this moment when we’re told to turn against one another, we must choose a different path: we belong here and no one is disposable," said Chhaya Chhoum, Co-Executive Director of Southeast Asian Freedom Network. 
"Our communities have organized, resisted and created new worlds when the old ones failed us. This bill is part of that legacy - a call to love and protect one another, especially now.” 
EDITOR'S NOTE: For additional commentary, news, views and chismis from an AANHPI perspective, follow me on Threads, on X, BlueSky or at the blog Views From the Edge. 

Sunday, April 26, 2026

Trump's racism is showing, calls India and China 'hellholes'

GRAPHIC BY FOSSBYTES

Donald Trump no longer even tries to hide his racism anymore. He has once again set the AAPI community on fire, this time by hitting "repost" on a racist, xenophobic screed that labels India and China as "hellholes."

The post, shared on Truth Social, wasn't just a random jab; it was a transcript from Michael Savage’s podcast that took aim at birthright citizenship and the 14th Amendment. 

The rant didn’t stop at the "hellhole" label, either. It painted Indian and Chinese immigrants as "gangsters with laptops" who "step on our flag" while allegedly scamming the U.S. immigration system to bring in their entire families.

Rep. Grace Meng (D-NY) and char of the Congressional Asian Pacific Americans Caucus (CAPAC), warned that amplifying this bigotry "pours fuel on an already dangerous fire" for Asian Americans.

For those of us watching the rise in anti-Asian hate, this rhetoric is a terrifyingly familiar dog whistle.

'Gangsters with laptops'

The reposted tirade accused Indian and Chinese professionals in the US tech industry of being "gangsters with laptops" who do not hire white native-born Americans.

The post targeted Indian immigrants specifically, claiming they lack English proficiency and suggesting an "internal mechanism" exists to favor Indian and Chinese hiring in tech.

The shared text alleged that immigrants from China and India are "stepped on our flag" and use birthright citizenship to "drop a baby in the ninth month...and then bring in all ancestors from India/China."

By accusing pregnant mothers of arriving in the US in their ninth month to "dorp a baby" in order to secure US citizenship. Trump used the podcast to inflame racists who support him to try and pressure the US Supreme Court in a case before them that seeks to challenge the 14th Amendment that guarantees birthright citizenship.

Rep. Pramila Jayapal (D-WA), who was born in India, blasted Trump's comments as "disgusting" and "rooted in white supremacy."

View from the edge

It is not the first time Trump has shown his true colors. Critics argue that Donald Trump's use of phrases like "Kung Flu" or "Chinese Virus" during the COVID-19 pandemic fueled anti-Asian sentiment, contributing to a framatic rise in hate-fueld incidents documented by groups like Stop AAPI Hate.

By consistently linking the virus to China, critics argue Trump encouraged a "Yellow Peril" stereotype, framing Asian Americans as "perpetual foreigners" or disease carriers responsible for the pandemic's impact on the US.

A 2020 report from Stop AAPI Hate described Trump as a major "spreader" of anti-Asian rhetoric, which they linked to a surge in harassment, verbal assaults, and physical attacks against Asian Americans.

The fallout from the most recent tirade wasn't just domestic. The Indian Ministry of External Affairs called the remarks "uninformed" and "in poor taste." Meanwhile, the US Embassy in New Delhi scrambled to do damage control. Rather than a direct apology, Trump issued a statement through the Embass, saying, "India is a great country with a very good friend of mine at the top," referring to Prime Minister Narendra Modi.

Trump's immigration policy reflects his bias while dissuading immigration from "s--thole" countries, primarily from Africa, the Middle Est and the Caribbean, he wished more white immigrants would come from European countries and South Africa.

But for the AAPI community, the damage is already done. When the leader of the country signals that your ancestral homeland is a "hellhole" and your professional success is a "scam," it’s more than just bad politics — it's a target on our backs.

EDITOR'S NOTE: For additional commentary, news, views and chismis from an AANHPI perspective, follow me on Threads, on X, BlueSky or at the blog Views From the Edge. 

Saturday, April 25, 2026

Filipino Food Month: Ube is everywhere! How a Philippine root made Filipino cuisine "cool"

The beauty and versatility of ube turns the ordinary into Instagram classics.


It started with a color that felt engineered for the smartphone era — that deep, electric violet that popped off the screen and demanded a double-tap. But beneath the surface-level hype of purple donuts and "grammable" lattes, a more profound cultural shift was taking place.

Ube and Instagram didn’t just put Filipino food on the map; they hacked the digital zeitgeist to make Pinoy flavors an undeniable global force.

The Visual Revolution

Instagram’s algorithm rewards high-contrast, vivid content. Ube was the perfect candidate for viral fame.

Ube's natural color is so intense it looks artificial, making it irresistible to food influencers. You didn’t need to be an expert on Filipino history to participate; you just needed a camera and a craving for something beautiful.

Thousands of hashtags turned a humble root vegetable grown primarily in the Philippines into a global status symbol.

The Trojan Horse strategy

Ube’s flavor profile—mild, nutty, and reminiscent of vanilla—provided a safe entry point for Western palates.

Once people were hooked on ube pancakes, they were suddenly open to trying calamansi tarts or pandan cakes.

When giants like Trader Joe’s, Whole Foods and Costco started stocking ube-filled shelves, it signaled that Filipino food had officially moved from the "ethnic aisle" to the mainstream.

Once people fell for the ube donut or ube ice cream, they started asking what else the Philippines had to offer—leading them straight to adobo, pancit, and beyond forcing the mainstream to acknowledge the complexity of Southeast Asian ingredients.

The conversation shifted from "What is that purple stuff?" to a broader appreciation for the complexity of Filipino cuisine—from the sour notes of sinigang to the savory depth of adobo.

The next big thing(s)

The ube wave wasn't a fluke; it was a blueprint. Now that the door is open, a whole new roster of Filipino heavy-hitters is moving from the back-of-house to center stage. These aren't just ingredients; they may be the next "it" factors in the American culinary playbook.

Calamansi: The new citrus king

If you’re tired of the lemon/lime duopoly, meet the Filipino citrus that’s about to blow the lid off the beverage industry.
  • The Vibe: It’s a hybrid powerhouse—tart like a lime but with the floral, sweet aroma of a mandarin.
  • The Play: Look for it to replace the basic lemon garnish in high-end cocktails or show up as the star of the next "craft" soda craze. It’s the sharp, acidic punch that modern, fat-heavy menus are screaming for.

Pandan: The green goddess

Matcha better watch its back. Pandan is officially stepping out from ube’s shadow and claiming its own spotlight.
  • The Vibe: It’s been called "the vanilla of the East," offering a toasted, nutty, and grassy sweetness that is deeply addictive.
  • The Play: It’s the ultimate "color play" ingredient. Its electric green hue is pure social media bait, and it’s already infiltrating everything from oat milk lattes to gourmet waffles. It’s the exotic upgrade to the standard vanilla bean.

The Pili Nut: the superfood sleeper

Move over, macadamias. The pili nut is the high-fat, buttery snack the wellness crowd has been waiting for.

  • The Vibe: Grown in volcanic soil, it’s one of the most nutrient-dense nuts on the planet, with a texture that practically melts on the tongue.
  • The Play: It fits the keto and plant-based "superfood" narrative perfectly. It’s moving from souvenir stalls in Manila to premium health food aisles in the States, marketed as a sustainable, luxury snack.

Artisanal Vinegar: The "Asim" Revolution

The Filipino obsession with asim (sourness) is finally going mainstream via high-end condiments.
  • The Vibe: We’re talking cane vinegar, coconut vinegar, and palm vinegar infused with chilies and garlic.
  • The Play: Following the path blazed by Sriracha and Chili Crunch, these vinegars are becoming the new must-have pantry staple for home cooks looking to cut through grease and add a complex, fermented zing to their dinner table.

View from the edge

If Filipino food trucks whet the appetite and curiosity of American foodies, in the last two years, ube burst the dam of bias that Filipino food from claiming its rightful place among Asian cuisines.

The "Ube Factor" isn't just about food; it’s about a community claiming its space in the culinary spotlight making the predictions for Philippine cuisines by the late cultural guru Anthony Bourdain finally come to fruition.

RELATED -- April is Filipino Food Month

The rise of the purple yam is a masterclass in how a single "gateway" ingredient can dismantle decades of culinary invisibility. It satisfied the social media demand for "food porn," turning a humble tuber into a global icon of cool.

Ube didn’t just trend; it staged a tactical takeover of the American palate, demonstrating that for Filipino food to finally get its flowers, it needed a "hook" that was as visually loud as it was culturally deep. For decades, Filipino cuisine lived in the "hidden gem" category, but ube changed the game by becoming the ultimate digital-age ambassador.

EDITOR'S NOTE: For additional commentary, news, views and chismis from an AANHPI perspective, follow me on Threads, on X, BlueSky or at the blog Views From the Edge. 

Body of one Bangladeshi U. of South Florida scholar found, another still missing

The body of Zamil Limon, left, was recovered but the fate of Nahida Bristy is unknown.



The search for two brilliant Bangladeshi scholars at the University of South Florida took a dark and devastating turn this week, leaving the community in shock and a family across the globe demanding answers.

The news we all feared broke Friday morning when authorities confirmed they had recovered the remains of Zamil Limon on the Howard Frankland Bridge. While the discovery brings a grim closure to one part of this mystery, the fate of his friend and fellow student, Nahida Bristy, remains a terrifying unknown.

Limon, 27, a doctoral student in geography, and Bristy, 27, a chemical engineering Ph.D. candidate, vanished without a trace on April 16. What started as a frantic missing persons case has now morphed into a criminal investigation involving a SWAT standoff and a roommate in handcuffs.

Hisham Saleh Abugharbieh, Limon’s roommate, was taken into custody after a tense confrontation with police at their off-campus apartment. He now faces a laundry list of charges, including tampering with evidence and the unlawful moving of a human body. While police are piecing together the timeline, the central question remains: Where is Nahida?


“This is a deeply disturbing case that has shaken our community and impacted many who were hoping for a safe resolution,” said Chad Chronister, a Hillsborough sheriff. “While the discovery of Zamil Limon’s remains is heartbreaking, I want the public to know that our detectives worked and are working tirelessly and relentlessly to uncover the truth.”

Family members said that Limon and Bristy were romantically involved and serious students who would not go off without telling someone of their plans.

Back home in Bangladesh, the families are living a nightmare. These weren't just students; they were the pride of their communities, dedicated academics who were reportedly discussing a future together once their grueling studies were complete. Their sudden silence on April 17 was the first red flag for a family used to daily check-ins.

As the USF community grapples with the loss of Limon, the "endangered" status of Bristy hangs heavy over the campus. This is a story of stolen potential and a reminder of the vulnerabilities faced by international students seeking a better life far from home.

Authorities aren't giving up, but time is of the essence. If you have seen Nahida Bristy or have any information regarding her whereabouts, contact the USF Police Department immediately at 813-974-2628.

EDITOR'S NOTE: This is a developing story. Check back later for updates. For additional commentary, news, views and chismis from an AANHPI perspective, follow me on Threads, on X, BlueSky or at the blog Views From the Edge. 

Friday, April 24, 2026

Judge fed up with uncooperative ICE sanctions AsAm government lawyer

Asian American members of Congress added their voices against ICE treatment of detainees.

In a rare and stinging rebuke from the bench, Chief US District Judge Troy L. Nunley has officially run out of patience with the Department of Justice.

On April 14, Nunley slapped DOJ attorney Jonathan Yu with a $250 sanction—a move legal experts call a "shout from the rooftops" in the normally buttoned-up world of federal litigation. The reason? A repeated and "flagrant disregard" for court orders in the case of Eblis Alexander Yanez Tovar, an immigrant who found himself caught in the gears of a broken system.
The judge's sanction against Yu is an example of a system in crisis, where routine check-ins are leading to detention for long-term US residents, including an Afghan man who worked for the US in Afghanistan and a Cambodian grandmother who fled the Khmer Rouge and who has been in the US since 1981.

'Judicial emergency'

These cases, part of a "judicial emergency" with 2,700 habeas petitions filed since January, underscore a broader trend of detention, even after court orders for release. 
The drama unfolded in the Eastern District of California, where Tovar was fighting for his freedom from a Bakersfield detention center. While the court eventually ordered his release, the government apparently didn't think the follow-up paperwork was a priority.
The Sacramento-based Yu missed two critical deadlines: first, failing to certify that Tovar had actually been set free, and second, failing to update the court on why Tovar was released without his passport or driver’s license. Imagine being dumped in a city where you don't live, with no ID and no way to prove who you are—essentially a walking target for re-arrest. That was Tovar’s reality while the DOJ stayed silent.
The DOJ tried to play the "we’re overwhelmed" card. Yu claimed he was drowning under a mountain of 300 immigration cases assigned in just three months. US Attorney Eric Grant even stepped in, begging the judge to fine the office instead of the man, arguing that the failure was systemic.
Judge Nunley wasn't buying it.
In a sharp-tongued ruling, Nunley made it clear that a heavy workload is no excuse for ignoring a federal judge. He characterized the missed deadlines not as a mistake, but as a "pattern of disregard." For Nunley, this wasn't just about a $250 fine; it was about the "fundamental obligation" of government lawyers to respect the rule of law, regardless of how busy their calendars are.

View from the edge

As of early 2026, over 7,200 Asian immigrants were detained by ICE, with arrests of Asian immigrants roughly quadrupling under the second Trump administration compared to previous periods, according to Stop AAPI Haate. The majority of detainees come from China, India, Vietnam, Laos, and South Korea, often targeting those without criminal records.

Nunley is not alone in fed up with Trump's ICE and DOJ. Across the US, federal judges have expressed growing frustration with ICE over what they describe as a pattern of defying court orders and violating due process. This tension has escalated into a rare public showdown between the judicial and executive branches.


In Minnesota, Chief US District Judge Patrick Schiltz documented at least 96 separate court order violations by ICE in January 2026 alone.

Judges have accused the agency of "willfully misrepresenting facts" and moving detainees to different states without warning to disrupt legal proceedings—a practice some call "forum shopping."

This clash is a symptom of a much larger fever. Nunley has already declared a "judicial emergency" in the district due to a massive surge in immigration filings. While the DOJ is feeling the heat, the bench is clearly signaling that they won't let administrative chaos become a license for legal negligence.
For Jonathan Yu, the fine might be small change, but the stain on his professional record is a permanent reminder: in Judge Nunley’s courtroom, the government doesn't get a pass.
EDITOR'S NOTE: For additional commentary, news, views and chismis from an AANHPI perspective, follow me on Threads, on X, BlueSky or at the blog Views From the Edge. 


Wednesday, April 22, 2026

George Ariyoshi, the United States' first Asian American governor, passes away

Hawaii's late Governor George Ariyoshi, 1926-2026.

George Ariyoshi wasn’t just a politician; he was the living embodiment of the "Nisei" dream and a towering figure who shattered the ultimate glass ceiling for Asian Americans. When he passed away April 19 at the age of 100, the nation lost the first person of Asian descent to ever serve as a US governor. 

His journey from the son of Japanese immigrants to the pinnacle of power in Honolulu wasn’t just a personal victory; it was a signal to the entire Asian American community that the halls of government were no longer off-limits. Ariyoshi didn't just walk through the door; he held it open for generations to follow, proving that quiet, disciplined leadership could reshape an entire state’s destiny.

During his 12 years in office, 1974-1986, Ariyoshi transformed Hawaii from a collection of islands finding their post-statehood footing into a modern economic powerhouse. He was a master of the "long game," prioritizing sustainable growth and land-use policies that balanced development with the preservation of Hawaii’s natural beauty. 
Known for his fiscal discipline, he guided the state through its first major economic hurdles with a steady hand that won him the respect of both allies and rivals. He never lost an election, a testament to a leadership style defined by integrity and a refusal to chase short-term headlines at the expense of the state's future.
His legacy was anchored in the Japanese philosophy of kodomo no tame ni—doing things "for the sake of the children." This wasn't just a campaign slogan; it was the lens through which he viewed every policy, from infrastructure to education. 
By the time he retired, he had successfully pivoted Hawaii toward a more global future, strengthening ties with the Asia-Pacific region and ensuring the state was more than just a tourist destination, but a vital bridge between East and West.
The outpouring of grief from Asian American leaders has been a profound reflection of his status as a pioneer. Current Hawaii Governor Josh Green  ordered the state to fly flags at half-staff.
“Governor Ariyoshi devoted his life to Hawaiʻi with humility, discipline and an unwavering sense of responsibility to the people he served,” Green said. “He led our state during a pivotal moment with quiet strength and integrity, and his legacy as a trailblazer and public servant will endure for generations.”
"Governor Ariyoshi helped Hawaii look to the future when he brought communities across our state together to develop the landmark Hawaii State Plan," said US Sen. Mazie Hirono. "His commitment to public service and public discourse endured long after he left the governorship, and I'm grateful to have known him."
US Sen. Brian Schatz echoed these sentiments, calling Ariyoshi a true public servant and a foundational inspiration for anyone in Hawaii looking to enter public life. From the statehouse to the halls of Congress, the consensus is clear: Ariyoshi was the "steady captain" who ensured Hawaii’s ship stayed on course during its most formative decades.
Acting Chief Justice Sabrina McKenna spoke to his role as a mentor, noting his ability to teach others the importance of long-term vision over political expediency. 
Even at 100, Ariyoshi’s influence remained palpable, and his death marks the end of an era for the "Magnum Opus" generation of Asian American trailblazers who turned minority representation into mainstream leadership.
Ariyoshi was the son of immigrants from Japan. He was born in Honolulu, March   12, 1926 and grew up in the city's Kalihi neighborhood.
He served in the US Army as an interpreter during World War II. He graduated from the University of Michigan and eqrned his law degree from the UM Law School.
The late George Ariyoshi is survived by his wife, Jean Miya Hayashi Ariyoshi, whom he married in 1955. He is also survived by their three children: a daughter, Lynn, and two sons, Ryozo and Donn.
Funeral arrangements are pending.
EDITOR'S NOTE: For additional commentary, news, views and chismis from an AANHPI perspective, follow me on Threads, on X, BlueSky or at the blog Views From the Edge.