This "Dinosaur Egg" is One Of The Rarest Salts In The World | Still Standing | Insider Business

Summary

The script narrates the story of asin tibuok, an artisanal salt known as 'dinosaur egg,' crafted by a few families on a small Philippine island. This rare salt, made from seawater brine and coconut husks, nearly vanished due to modernization but was revived by Nestor Manongas and his siblings. Despite a national law banning the sale of non-iodized salt, they persist, facing challenges like unpredictable weather and the need for new markets. The script also touches on the broader impact of similar laws on artisanal salt producers globally and the cultural significance of preserving this traditional craft.

Takeaways

• 🌊 The 'dinosaur egg' salt, or asin tibuok, is a rare artisanal salt made on a small island in the Philippines.
• ⏳ It requires eight hours of continuous cooking to produce this salt from seawater brine.
• 🏝️ In the 1960s, asin tibuok was used as a form of currency by families in Bohol, Philippines.
• 📉 The craft of making asin tibuok nearly vanished in the late 20th century due to younger generations seeking cash-paying jobs.
• 🔥 Nestor Manongas and his siblings revived the salt-making tradition 13 years ago, facing numerous challenges.
• 🚫 A national law in the Philippines bans the sale of non-iodized salt, making it difficult for traditional salt producers to sell their product within the country.
• 🌴 Coconut husks are a key ingredient that gives asin tibuok its unique taste and are used in the production process.
• 👥 Nestor's team of four, including adopted family members, carries out the labor-intensive salt-making process.
• 🍽️ Some restaurants, like Toyo Eatery in Manila, defy the iodized salt requirement to use asin tibuok for its culinary value.
• 🌍 The demand for asin tibuok is primarily from foreign customers and tourists, as local sales are restricted by law.
• 🏭 The 1995 ASIN law has led to a significant drop in national salt production and an increase in imported salt, impacting traditional salt makers.

Q & A

What is the name of the rare artisanal salt made on a small island in the Philippines?

The rare artisanal salt is called asin tibuok.

How long does it take to transform seawater brine into asin tibuok?

It takes eight hours of nonstop cooking to transform seawater brine into asin tibuok.

Why did the craft of making asin tibuok nearly disappear in the late 20th century?

The craft nearly disappeared because younger people started favoring jobs that paid cash over traditional salt-making.

Who decided to revive the asin tibuok making tradition and when did they do it?

Nestor Manongas and his siblings decided to revive the tradition 13 years ago.

What unique ingredient gives asin tibuok its distinct taste?

Coconut husks are what give the salt its distinct taste.

How many coconut husks are needed to make one batch of asin tibuok?

It takes 3,000 coconut husks to make one batch of asin tibuok.

What is the term for the pile of ashes left behind after burning the coconut husks?

The pile of ashes left behind is called gasang.

What is the name of the rattan filter used in the salt-making process?

The rattan filter used in the process is called sagsag.

What is the name of the salty brine that results from pumping seawater through the filter?

The salty brine that results from pumping seawater through the filter is called tasik.

Why is it difficult for Nestor and his team to sell asin tibuok in their own country?

A national law passed in 1995 requires all salt sold in the Philippines to be iodized, making it difficult for small-scale producers like Nestor to sell their traditional salt.

What is the name of the chef who uses asin tibuok in his award-winning restaurant in Manila?

Chef Jordy Navarra uses asin tibuok in his restaurant, Toyo Eatery.

How does Nestor's team ensure the quality of their salt-making process?

Nestor's team has strict rules before cooking begins, such as removing jewelry or watches and refraining from eating oily foods, based on superstitions passed down for generations.

Outlines

00:00

🌊 Reviving the Art of Asin Tibuok Salt Making

The script introduces 'dinosaur egg' salt, known as asin tibuok, a rare artisanal salt made by a few families on a small island in the Philippines. The process of transforming seawater brine into salt is labor-intensive, requiring eight hours of continuous cooking. The craft was nearly lost due to younger generations seeking cash-paying jobs, but Nestor Manongas and his siblings revived it 13 years ago. They face challenges, including a law banning the sale of traditional salt in their own country, and the script follows their journey to find new markets. The unique taste of asin tibuok comes from coconut husks, which are soaked, dried, and burned to create an essential ingredient called gasang. The process is detailed, from the preparation of the husks to the filtration of seawater to produce a salty brine called tasik.

05:14

🔥 The Legacy of Asin Tibuok and Its Production

The script continues with the story of Nestor's family, who left the salt-making trade in 1983 after a typhoon but were convinced to restart the business in 2010 to preserve the tradition. Family members, including potter Josephine Sumingit, contribute to the craft. The production process is described in detail, from preparing the fire with mahogany wood and coconut fronds to the strict rules followed before cooking begins, based on superstitions passed down through generations. The cooking process is labor-intensive, with team members tending the fire and pouring brine into pots until they are filled with salt crystals. The use of seashells as ladles and the importance of the final product's quality are highlighted. The script also discusses the challenges of selling asin tibuok due to a national law requiring all salt to be iodized, which has affected small-scale producers.

10:15

🏭 The Impact of Iodization Laws on Artisanal Salt Producers

The script explores the broader impact of iodization laws on artisanal salt producers, using the example of palung salt producers in Bali, Indonesia. These producers face similar challenges due to laws requiring iodized salt, making it difficult for them to sell their product. The script contrasts the traditional methods and the love for the craft with the economic realities that have led many to leave the business for better-paying jobs. It also discusses the recent geographical indication certificate received by Kusamba salt farmers, which recognizes the unique reputation of their product due to its place of origin. The script highlights the high cost of artisanal salt compared to mass-produced alternatives and the reliance on tourists and foreign customers for sales.

15:19

🌱 Preserving Heritage: Challenges and Hopes for Asin Tibuok

The final paragraph discusses the difficulties faced by Nestor and Veronica in finding the next generation of asin tibuok producers, with even their children hesitant to take over the business. The unpredictable weather, including heavy rains and typhoons, poses a threat to their operations. The script recounts the devastation caused by Super Typhoon Odette in 2021 and the subsequent rebuilding efforts. Despite these challenges, Nestor and Veronica express confidence in their team and the revival of other salt-making operations in Bohol. They are proud to carry on the tradition of asin tibuok in honor of their ancestors, emphasizing the importance of preserving their cultural heritage.

Keywords

💡Dinosaur egg salt

Dinosaur egg salt, also known as 'asin tibuok,' is a rare artisanal salt produced on a small island in the Philippines. It is called 'dinosaur egg' due to its unique shape and texture. The video highlights the salt's production process and its cultural significance. The term is central to the video's theme as it represents the traditional craft that Nestor Manongas and his family are trying to revive and preserve.

💡Artisanal salt

Artisanal salt refers to salt that is produced using traditional methods, often by hand, and is characterized by its unique flavor and texture. In the context of the video, 'asin tibuok' is an example of artisanal salt, made by cooking seawater brine for eight hours and using coconut husks, which impart a distinct taste. The video emphasizes the labor-intensive process and the skill required to create this salt, showcasing the dedication of the producers to their craft.

💡Coconut husks

Coconut husks play a crucial role in the production of 'asin tibuok' as they are used to give the salt its characteristic taste. As mentioned in the script, Nestor soaks thousands of coconut husks in a saltwater pond and later burns them to create 'gasang,' an essential ingredient in the salt-making process. The use of coconut husks is not only traditional but also adds a unique flavor profile to the salt, distinguishing it from mass-produced varieties.

💡Iodized salt

Iodized salt is table salt that has had iodine added to it to prevent iodine deficiency, which can lead to health issues such as goiters and malnutrition. The video discusses a Philippine law requiring all sold salt to be iodized, which has negatively impacted traditional salt producers like Nestor, who cannot afford the machinery to iodize their artisanal salt. This law is a significant hurdle for the continuation of traditional salt-making practices and is a central conflict in the video's narrative.

💡Craft revival

Craft revival refers to the process of bringing back traditional crafts that were at risk of being lost. Nestor Manongas and his siblings decided to revive the production of 'asin tibuok' after it nearly disappeared due to younger generations seeking more lucrative cash jobs. The video showcases their efforts to keep this traditional craft alive, reflecting a broader theme of cultural preservation and the challenges faced by artisanal communities.

💡Geographical indication

A geographical indication is a label that identifies a product as originating from a specific region, where its quality, reputation, or other characteristics are due to its geographical origin. In the video, Kusamba salt farmers in Indonesia receive a geographical indication certificate, which recognizes the unique reputation of their 'palung salt.' This concept is important as it highlights the efforts to protect and promote traditional products and their cultural significance.

💡Traditional methods

Traditional methods refer to the age-old practices used in the production of goods, which are often passed down through generations. The video emphasizes the traditional methods used in making 'asin tibuok,' such as the use of coconut husks, the rattan filter 'sagsag,' and the clay pots 'kon.' These methods are integral to the video's message, illustrating the value of preserving cultural heritage and the authenticity of artisanal products.

💡Cultural heritage

Cultural heritage encompasses the practices, traditions, and crafts that are passed down through generations and contribute to a community's identity. The video focuses on the importance of preserving the cultural heritage of salt-making in the Philippines and Indonesia. Nestor and Veronica's efforts to continue the tradition of 'asin tibuok' production, despite challenges, underscore the video's theme of maintaining cultural continuity and honoring one's ancestors.

💡Climate change

Climate change is a significant theme in the video, as it affects the production of 'asin tibuok' by making weather patterns more unpredictable. The video mentions heavy rains and typhoons hitting the island during the dry season, which can disrupt the salt-making process. The destruction caused by Super Typhoon Odette is a stark example of how climate change can threaten traditional industries and the communities that rely on them.

💡Tourism

Tourism plays a dual role in the video. On one hand, it provides a market for artisanal salt producers like Nestor, who sell their products to tourists interested in traditional methods and unique products. On the other hand, the reliance on tourism can be precarious, as it is subject to fluctuations in visitor numbers and seasonal variations. The video illustrates how Nestor and other producers depend on tourists as a primary source of income, highlighting the interdependence between cultural preservation and economic sustainability.

Highlights

The rare artisanal salt known as 'dinosaur egg' is made by a few families on a small island in the Philippines.

Asin tibuok salt is produced through an eight-hour nonstop cooking process from seawater brine.

In the 1960s, asin tibuok was traded for food and other goods in Bohol, Philippines.

The craft of making asin tibuok nearly disappeared due to younger people seeking cash-paying jobs.

Nestor Manongas and his siblings revived the asin tibuok craft 13 years ago.

A law in the Philippines bans the sale of traditional salt within the country.

Coconut husks are used to give asin tibuok its distinct taste and are soaked in a saltwater pond.

It takes two days to chop 3,000 coconut husks needed for one batch of salt.

Nestor learned salt-making from his father and grandfather at the age of 15.

The salt-making process involves burning coconut husks for a week and using the ash, called gasang.

A rattan filter called sagsag is used to filter seawater through the gasang ash.

The brine produced is cooked in clay pots called kon over a fire for eight hours.

Nestor's family left the salt-making trade in 1983 after a typhoon destroyed their workshop.

In 2010, Nestor was convinced to restart the business to save the tradition.

A national law in the Philippines requires all salt to be iodized, impacting small-scale producers.

A proposed bill in 2017 aims to exempt natural sea salt producers from the iodization law.

Artisanal salt producers face similar challenges worldwide due to iodine laws.

Nestor and his team depend on foreign customers, including tourists and online buyers.

Some restaurants in the Philippines use asin tibuok, despite the iodization law.

The asin tibuok salt is used as a finishing touch in a best-selling dessert at an award-winning restaurant.

Nestor and Veronica struggle to find the next generation of producers, as even their children are hesitant.

Climate change has made weather more unpredictable, affecting the salt-making process.

Despite challenges, Nestor and Veronica are committed to preserving the asin tibuok tradition.

Transcripts

Narrator: This salt is known as the dinosaur egg,

and it's one of the rarest in the world.

Only a few families

on a small island in the Philippines still make it.

It takes eight hours of nonstop cooking

to transform seawater brine into this artisanal salt

called asin tibuok.

In the 1960s, families in Bohol

traded asin tibuok for food and other goods.

But the craft nearly disappeared in the late 20th century,

when younger people started favoring jobs that paid cash.

Nestor Manongas and his siblings

decided to revive it 13 years ago, but it hasn't been easy.

A law bans them from selling the traditional salt

in their own country.

So how do you find a new market for an old craft?

We traveled to the Philippines to find out

how this rare industry is still standing.

Coconut husks are what give the salt its distinct taste.

Nestor keeps thousands of them soaking

in a saltwater pond near his workshop.

Narrator: It can take two days to chop 3,000 coconut husks

needed to make one batch of salt.

Jajay Nogalada has been working here for about a year.

Nestor and his wife adopted him when he was 4 years old

after his mother died and his father became ill.

Narrator: The husks dry in the sun for a day.

Next, Nestor sets them on fire.

Starting from the bottom, he learned salt-making

from his father and grandfather when he was 15 years old.

But like many other young people,

he left three years later

to look for less laborious careers.

Narrator: Today, his team of four does most of the work.

The husks burn continuously for a whole week.

Narrator: The pile of ashes left behind is called gasang.

Workers break up any large pieces by hand.

This is one of the most essential ingredients.

Workers cover the rattan filter called sagsag

with a bed of fresh palm leaves to keep it from leaking.

They pack the ashes in

and spend an hour compressing them with a wooden stick.

Then, about 1,300 gallons

of seawater get pumped through the filter.

What comes out on the other side

is a salty brine called tasik.

This step alone can take a day and a half.

Narrator: Nestor patches the stove

with a mixture of ashes and water before each use.

The frequent high heat often damages it.

Narrator: Then he balances clay pots called kon between metal rods.

It can take a whole hour to get it right,

but Nestor says that's quick.

Narrator: One rock out of place could ruin months of work.

Narrator: Nestor's family left the trade in 1983,

after their workshop was destroyed in a typhoon.

In 2010, his brother, Cris, convinced him

to restart their business to save the tradition.

Since then, other family members have also joined the trade,

like his cousin Josephine Sumingit, one of the few potters

in town who makes the clay pots.

She learned how when she was 18 years old.

Narrator: Back at the workshop, the team prepares the fire

with mahogany wood and coconut fronds.

Nestor has strict rules in place before any cooking begins.

Everyone needs to remove jewelry

or watches and refrain from eating oily foods.

These are based on superstitions

passed down for generations.

Finally, it's time to start cooking.

And it's all hands on deck.

Jajay tends to the fire,

while two others pour brine into the pots.

They continue to fill them as the water evaporates.

The process can take all day,

ending when each pot is filled with salt crystals.

These ladles are made from seashells,

since they are heat-resistant

and don't contain synthetic chemicals.

Temperatures in the workshop

can reach up to 104 degrees Fahrenheit.

Narrator: Popong Poblete has been making salt here

since the workshop opened.

Today, he handles most of the cooking.

Narrator: After eight hours, all the pots are finally full.

But the salt won't be ready until they crack

at the bottom.

They sit to cool overnight.

Workers take each pot out of the stove the next morning.

Narrator: Workers crack open the bottom of the pot to reveal the salt.

Coconut husks are the perfect cleaning tool

to remove any dust.

Most of the people who work with Nestor today

had never made salt before, but now say they love the work.

Narrator: One batch makes 110 eggs.

They can make up to four batches a month

if the weather is good.

One pot of asin tibuok can last a whole year.

Nestor's sister, Veronica Manongas-Salupan,

is in charge of managing and marketing the workshop.

Narrator: But selling it has been their biggest hurdle.

A national law passed in 1995

requires all salt sold in the Philippines to be iodized.

Narrator: The ASIN law was meant to combat malnutrition

and prevent goiters,

which were often caused by iodine deficiency.

But the law devastated small-scale salt producers

who couldn't afford the expensive machinery

required to add iodine to their salt.

National production dropped from 85% to 7% in 31 years.

Nowadays, most of the salt in the Philippines is imported

from Australia, China, and Mexico.

Lawmakers proposed a bill

in 2017 that would exempt natural sea salt producers

from the ASIN law, but it's still pending approval.

Narrator: Artisanal salt producers have felt the impacts

of similar laws across the world since the 1990s.

Nengah Pura is one of the last farmers making palung salt

in the seaside village of Kusamba in Bali, Indonesia.

Narrator: She spends her days carrying baskets full

of seawater and pouring them

on the volcanic sand to filter out the salt.

Narrator: For years, an iodine law

similar to the one in the Philippines made it hard

for farmers like her to sell salt in stores.

Without regular buyers or frequent tourists,

Nengah is often left with unsold stock.

Salt farmers make so little that most have left the business

for better-paying jobs at nearby hotels and tourist spots.

And even though Nengah has loved this work since she was 15,

she doesn't want her children following the same path.

Narrator: Nowadays, she sells her salt to a cooperative

that adds the iodine.

Kusamba salt farmers received a geographical indication

certificate from the Indonesian government in early 2022.

It recognizes that a product comes from a particular place

and has a unique reputation because of it.

Narrator: But Indonesia imports around 2 million tons

of cheaper salt every year,

and the farmers face stiff competition.

Farmers sell 1 kilogram of palung salt for about $2.

That's more than three times the price

of mass-produced salt sold in most grocery stores,

making it a luxury for the majority of people.

Nengah's main customers are tourists who come here

to see the traditional methods and often leave with salt.

Like Nengah, Nestor also depends on a foreign customer base.

Tourists are his main buyers.

He also sells some of it online to other countries.

Narrator: Restaurants are also required to use iodized salt,

but some have been taking a chance

and adding a asin tibuok to their menu.

Chef Jordy Navarra

has been buying it from Nestor since 2018.

His award-winning restaurant, Toyo Eatery,

in the country's capital, Manila,

serves contemporary Filipino cuisine.

Miguel: We prioritize using local ingredients

and serving up our own versions of Filipino dishes.

Narrator: The salt is the perfect finishing touch

to the best-selling dessert, leche flan ice cream.

The restaurant's pastry chef, Bettina Tañedo,

showed us how to make it.

Bettina: Firstly, we start with melting sugar.

We use raw turbinado sugar from Negros

in a pan until it reaches a hard-crack stage.

Narrator: They pour a mixture of egg yolk, sugar,

and milk on top and steam it for one hour.

It's chilled and then churned into ice cream.

Bettina: I don't think the ice cream could be complete

without the asin tibuok.

I just think they're the perfect pair.

Miguel: I've had the chance to visit the asin tibuok maker

in Bohol, together with Chef Jordy.

And you get a better appreciation

of what these people are doing,

which is not just basically making salt,

but preserving heritage, preserving culture.

Narrator: Nestor and Veronica say it's been difficult

finding the next generation of asin tibuok producers.

Even their children are hesitant to take over the business.

Narrator: Weather here has become more unpredictable in recent years.

Nestor and Veronica have to watch out

for heavy rains and typhoons, which have been

hitting the island even during the dry season.

In 2021, Super Typhoon Odette ravaged the Philippines,

with Bohol being one of the hardest-hit areas.

The storm destroyed their workshop,

and they couldn't complete orders for months.

Narrator: They spent three months rebuilding it, and in March 2022,

they finally reopened.

Despite the challenges, Nestor and Veronica are confident

in the team they have now.

Narrator: Other salt makers in Bohol have also started up again.

Nestor and Veronica know how difficult the work is,

but they believe the legacy of asin tibuok is worth it.

And they're proud to be carrying on the tradition

in their ancestors' honor.