Tocino del Cielo: A Sweet Reward for Human Kindness

Tocino del Cielo, a Kapampangan specialty, are bite-sized, caramel-topped custards made with large quantities of egg yolks. (Photo by Elizabeth Ann Quirino)

I gently shook the small, aluminum metal mold the size of a shot glass, and the golden brown caramel syrup cascaded downwards. I turned the mold over and the bite-sized Tocino del Cielo custard slipped out. There were more tocinos left to unmold although we had been working all day. Dozens of eggs in their cardboard trays still surrounded us, all over the dining table.

“We need to cook more tocino or these eggs will get stale,” my mother-in-law said.

It was five days before Christmas. We were at my in-laws in Tarlac. I glanced at my mother-in-law, Remedios Pineda Quirino, as I helped her make her signature dessert: Tocino del Cielo, a decadent Kapampangan treat.

Mama was bent over the dining table, unmolding massive amounts of these yellow-gold, tiny custards into white paper liners. They jiggled slightly as she transferred each one, individually into small, white boxes to be given to friends.

A recipe for 12 luscious Tocino del Cielo pieces needed at least 25 egg yolks. Anything less than that number of yolks was considered a grave offense by the elder Kapampangan cooks of our family.

Mama's recipe was handed down from generations of her Kapampangan ancestors. She had aluminum Tocino del Cielo molds especially handcrafted by a latero (metal artisan).

The Tocino del Cielo (‘cielo’ means heaven), is one of the richest Christmas desserts in the Philippines, its origins shaped by a strong Spanish colonial influence.  At Christmas, Mama made only one thing for family and friends: Tocino del Cielo.

“Why do we have more eggs this year?” I asked, as I grabbed a towel to wipe my sticky, caramel laced fingers.

“These eggs are from the patients, “Mama said.

I knew immediately why we had more eggs. They were gifts from the patients of my father-in-law.

Dr. Constante D. Quirino Sr., had a thriving medical practice in Tarlac City, as an internist, and cardiologist. His patients came from the farthest towns of the province.

The late Dr. Constante D. Quirino Sr., and wife Remedios Pineda, were beloved members of the Tarlac community during their lifetime. (Photo by Alicia Quirino Jacinto).

A patient once told me, “Dr. Quirino is known around Tarlac as the doctor of impossible cases. He can bring a sick patient back to life.” And this was why I often saw his patients waiting in long lines at his clinic.

But in the Philippines, where institutional health care is practically non-existent for the general population, many cannot afford to pay their physicians outright at the time of treatment or the medical procedure.

When a patient could not afford to pay him, Dr. Quirino generously waived his professional fee, allowed the patient to go home, and never expected a payment at all. The more financially destitute the patient, the more forgiving and understanding Papa was.

As a human being, this doctor understood. When the patient’s life was on the line, the family goes through emotional pain while worrying over money for medicines and doctors’ bills. Dr. Quirino always saw a family’s pain. There are times like these in our lives, when we need someone else to hold the light for us, while we deal with the darkness, fearing the worst.

And so, Dr. Quirino was not concerned with his fee. He was there to heal, not to be rich, Papa often told us, his family. We learned lessons from his compassion.

When a patient could not afford to pay my father-in-law, they paid him in kind with eggs, produce, or even livestock. Our family got used to it. He treated patients first, without questioning if they could afford to pay him afterwards.

During his long years of medical practice in Tarlac, the late Dr. Constante D. Quirino Sr. was well-known in the province as a skillful and compassionate physician. (Photo by Alicia Quirino Jacinto).

This was how we were blessed with so many trays of eggs at Christmas. This was why Mama and I  feverishly made dozens of Tocino del Cielo. She knew how to transform the gifts from grateful patients, to gifts for family and friends.

That day in Tarlac, as Mama and I kept unmolding the tiny custards onto paper cup liners, Papa walked into the house. He still had his stethoscope dangling around his neck, and looked tired. He had come from his rounds with patients. Though worn-out, he smiled at us, poured coffee, and sat by the table.

“How many of those did you make today?” Papa asked.

“We lost count after thirty six pieces. There’s still a lot baking in the kitchen, “ I said.

“There are more eggs. A patient dropped off trays at the clinic,” Papa said smiling, his eyes twinkling, as he sipped coffee.

More eggs meant one thing. Constante Quirino MD, had just saved someone’s life again. Touched by his kindness, his patients had blessed us with more gifts, given with thanks, to the doctor whose purpose was to heal, to better other people’s lives, and to benefit the community around him.


Elizabeth Ann Quirino, based in New Jersey, is a journalist, food writer and member of the International Association of Culinary Professionals (IACP). She blogs about Filipino home cooking and culinary travels to the Philippines on her site AsianInAmericamag.com.


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