Chicago’s Filipino Food Era Is Here
Dear Readers,
If you're on the Filipino Food train algo, then you're aware of the seemingly sudden boom of Filipino food in Chicago. Although there have been longtime OGs serving the Filipino community—like Uncle Mike’s Place and Isla Pilipina—I’m psyched to try the new bakery called Del Sur and the bodega-meets-sari-sari-store restaurant called Kanin.
It’s super exciting to see the breadth of execution with just these two examples alone. Del Sur is very chic, with a calming interior design that feels like your favorite Tita with taste decided to open a modern bakery—olive green walls, dark wood shelves, terra cotta tile. Their menu features longanisa-stuffed croissants, calamansi chamomile buns, and ube oatmeal cookies that are anything but basic.
Kanin, on the other hand, is all swagger—pulling from the long-standing relationship of Filipino B-boys, hip hop, and street food. It’s giving Filipino-Hawaiian island vibes with dishes like SPAM musubi, garlic rice bowls, and plenty of attitude. The playlist hits, the portions go hard, and it feels like the cousin who throws the best backyard BBQs just opened a spot in Ravenswood.
It got me thinking: What’s the connection between Filipinos and Chicago? Here you go.
XOXO,
Nic
The History of Filipinos and Chicago
If Chicago is a city shaped by migration and muscle, Filipinos are among its quiet architects—woven into its pulse, though rarely centered in its story.
Our presence here dates back to the early 1900s, tethered not to chance, but to empire. After the U.S. claimed the Philippines as a territory in 1898—following the Spanish-American War and a brutal, often-erased Filipino resistance—Filipinos were reclassified as U.S. nationals.¹ Not quite foreigners. Not quite citizens. But allowed, in legal terms, to move more freely between islands and mainland.
And while many Filipinos found their way to Hawaii, California, or Alaska for plantation and cannery work, a smaller but meaningful current began flowing toward the industrial arteries of the Midwest—toward Chicago.
But why here?
Because Chicago, at the turn of the 20th century, was a city in flux. It had burned to the ground in 1871 and rebuilt itself with steel, steam, and swagger. It was hungry for labor—in meatpacking plants, hotels, railroads, and domestic service. And it was already a magnet for immigrants from across Europe and the American South, drawn by the promise of work and the promise of anonymity. You could build a life here. You could get lost here. You could disappear and reinvent.
So when the U.S. launched the pensionado program in 1903—sending elite Filipino students to American universities—some came to Chicago, walking Michigan Avenue in suits and loafers, learning about American law and medicine while balancing the awkwardness of being colonial subjects dressed as guests.²
Others, less documented but no less important, found work in service roles: railway porters, houseboys, hospital orderlies, hotel kitchen workers. Chicago’s railroads stretched outward like veins, and many Filipinos entered through them—first arriving on the West Coast and gradually making their way east. They sent remittances home. Shared flats with other migrants. Ate rice and canned sardines while dreaming of better futures.
It wasn’t Ellis Island grand. It didn’t make the newspapers. But it happened. Quietly. Persistently. One paycheck, one remittance, one pancit tray at a time.
Chicago wasn’t the easiest city. But for Filipinos navigating their place in a new world—neither fully seen nor fully excluded—Chicago offered what it always has: space to work, to endure, and to build something, even in the margins.
Watch! Short Documentary: Reset shares the stories and histories of Filipinos in the Windy City
A Shared City Blueprint
Here’s a lesser-known landmark in the Chicago–Manila map: in the early 20th century, Daniel Burnham, the famed urban planner behind Chicago’s 1909 Plan, was commissioned by the U.S. government to design Manila and Baguio.
Yes—the same Burnham who envisioned Chicago’s lakefront parks and civic grandeur also drafted neoclassical plans for Manila in 1905. His vision included radial boulevards, government buildings, and plazas meant to evoke Washington, D.C., superimposed on a colonial city. In Baguio, his plans imagined a “summer capital” filled with cool air, straight lines, and leisure zones for American officials.
So Chicago and Manila don’t just share people—they share a blueprint.
Postwar Migration and Professional Power
After WWII, Filipino soldiers who fought under the American flag were promised citizenship and benefits—many of which were later revoked by the 1946 Rescission Act. Still, postwar migration surged. Veterans settled in cities like Chicago, and a wave of Filipino professionals arrived to fill labor shortages, especially in healthcare.
By the 1950s and '60s, Filipino nurses, doctors, and teachers became essential to the city’s hospitals, public schools, and civil service. They laid down roots in neighborhoods like Rogers Park, Uptown, and suburban Skokie and Niles, where proximity to Catholic churches, groceries, and good schools shaped a familiar kind of diasporic comfort.
The Immigration Act That Changed Everything
The 1965 Hart-Celler Act abolished racist immigration quotas and created a pipeline for skilled workers and family- sponsored migration from the Philippines. Chicago’s Filipino population grew dramatically in the 1970s and ‘80s.
This wasn’t just a demographic shift—it was a movement. Churches flourished. Civic organizations were born. Family-owned restaurants and sari-sari stores popped up. Community centers became cultural archives. And kamayan dinners? Hosted long before they were tagged on Instagram.
Civic Life and the Long Road to Visibility
In 1991, Chicago-based Circa Pintig was founded to tell stories of the Filipino diaspora through theater. The Filipino American Historical Society of Chicago (FAHSC) emerged to archive and protect our city’s Filipino heritage.
But despite all this, many Filipino Americans in Chicago have remained largely invisible—praised as hard-working “model minorities” while excluded from dominant narratives around race, representation, and power.
Renaissance, Not Trend
Today, more than 130,000 Filipinos live in the Chicago metro. And something is shifting.
Food, fashion, and organizing are the new front lines of cultural expression. You see it in Bayan Ko, Del Sur, Kanin, and Boonie’s. You hear it in Vinta Gallery pop-ups and see it in groups like Anakbayan Chicago and the Malaya Movement. This isn’t assimilation. It’s self-definition.
So the next time you bite into a longanisa croissant at Del Sur, or get garlic rice all over your hoodie at Kanin, remember: the flavor didn’t just arrive. It was layered over generations—by nurses, students, organizers, uncles, and aunties—building something for Chicago to taste, and finally, to see.
8 Filipino Restaurants Making Waves in Chicago
1. Kasama
Located in Ukrainian village, Kasama is the world’s first Michelin-starred Filipino restaurant. By day, it operates as a café and bakery serving pastries and casual Filipino fare; by night, it transforms into a fine-dining destination with a Filipino-inspired tasting menu.
2. Boonie's Filipino Restaurant
Situated in Lincoln Square, Boonie's offers a modern twist on traditional Filipino dishes. Chef Joe Fontelera brings his heritage to the forefront with dishes like bistek made with LA-cut short ribs and talong (eggplant) served with sunflower butter.
3. Bayan Ko
Bayan Ko, located in Ravenswood, is a cozy spot that fuses Filipino and Cuban cuisines. Chef Lawrence Letrero and his wife Raquel Quadreny serve dishes like kare-kare and caldereta, offering a unique blend of flavors from both cultures.
In Lincoln Square, Del Sur Bakery is known for its Filipino-inspired pastries. Their offerings include longanisa croissants, turon danishes, and ube oatmeal cream pies, blending traditional Filipino flavors with classic baking techniques.
5. Kanin
Kanin, meaning "rice" in Tagalog, is a Filipino-Hawaiian eatery in Ravenswood. This counter-service spot offers dishes like egg and tomato jam musubis and ube banana pudding, capturing the essence of island comfort food.
Located in Albany Park, Ruby's Fast Food is a beloved turo-turo (point-point) style restaurant. They serve a variety of Filipino comfort foods like beef pares, pork binagoongan, and crispy pata, all displayed buffet-style for easy selection.
SUBO in Albany Park is a casual eatery run by a mother-and-son duo. They offer a range of rice bowls and traditional dishes, including their signature "chocolate meat" (dinuguan), providing a modern take on classic Filipino flavors.
8. Cebu Chicago
Cebu Chicago, situated in Wicker Park, aims to highlight Filipino cuisine and culture. As a family-owned restaurant, they serve dishes that showcase the richness of Filipino culinary traditions in a welcoming environment.
Bonus: Mano Modern Café
If you find yourself craving kape and comfort, make a stop at Mano Modern Café, a stylish, Filipino-inspired coffee shop opened by my friend. Think ube lattes, pandesal breakfast sandwiches, and a vibe that’s effortlessly cool—like Manila streetwear meets Chicago’s cafe culture. It's more than coffee—it's community with a strong pour.
Soundtrack of the Week: Be by Common
This album is pure Chicago soul. I must’ve listened to this CD (!!!) on repeat for a year. Be isn’t just an album—it’s a meditation. A journal. A sonic blueprint for anyone trying to rise with grace.
Common’s rhyme and rhythm are so smooth, so intentional. He’s lyrical but grounded. Street but spiritual. On tracks like “The Corner” and “Love Is…,” he speaks to the grind, the beauty, the vulnerability of becoming. And then there’s “Be (Intro),” which feels like a slow inhale before a big shift.
It’s also very Chicago—produced by Kanye West at his early best, with soul samples that feel like block parties, baptisms, and quiet resilience.
Perfect listening while walking through the city or cooking longanisa at home. It reminds me that great things take time—and that artistry, like culture, builds layer by layer.
“I want to be as free as the spirits of those who left…”That line still gives me chills.Listen! Common Be on Spotify
Footnotes
Espiritu, Yen Le. Home Bound: Filipino American Lives Across Cultures, Communities, and Countries. University of California Press, 2003.Bonus, Rick. Locating Filipino Americans. Temple University Press, 2000.Hines, Thomas S. Burnham of Chicago: Architect and Planner. University of Chicago Press, 1974.Posadas, Barbara M. “The Filipino American Experience in the United States.” Gale Encyclopedia of Multicultural America, 2000.Choy, Catherine Ceniza. Empire of Care: Nursing and Migration in Filipino American History. Duke University Press, 2003.Ngai, Mae M. Impossible Subjects: Illegal Aliens and the Making of Modern America. Princeton University Press, 2004.Eater CHicago. https://chicago.eater.com/Circa Pintig. https://circapintig.orgFilipino American Historical Society of Chicago. http://fahschicago.orgU.S. Census Bureau, 2020 American Community Survey. https://data.census.gov
Cover Photo: Uchicagobite.com
Back Cover: Nicole Ponseca Collage