Pandesal, the Philippines’ Perfect Bread, Led Me on a Pilgrimage and Back Home (2024)

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updated Jun 4, 2020

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Pandesal (or pan de sal), translates to “salt bread,” but it leans more sweet than salty with a soft texture and a golden, gently-crisped top.

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When I think back to my first bite of pandesal, I’m transported back to the Filipino market I visited when I was growing up. Twice a month, we’d make the 45-minute trek from rural Kitsap County, WA, to pick up our Filipino pantry necessities: the rice with the elephants on it, Silver Swan soy sauce, bitter melon, and packages of frozen tocino (sweet cured pork belly) for the weekends. Every time, I would get suman, coconut sticky rice steamed in a banana leaf, for the road — and we would never leave without a couple of bags of a dozen pandesal.

Pandesal (or pan de sal), translates to “salt bread,” but it leans more sweet than salty. Traditionally, pandesal is made by rolling a wheat dough into a log, cutting it into pieces, and rolling the pieces in breadcrumbs (it’s not pandesal without breadcrumbs). The result is a soft, lightly sweet roll with a golden, gently crisped top. It’s commonly eaten at breakfast with coffee and throughout the day as a snack.

When I was growing up in the U.S., we always had pandesal around to snack on whenever we wanted. I would warm mine in the microwave and smear butter on it, or make a ham and cheese sandwich — the sweet roll contrasts perfectly with the savory ham and cheese. It’s a meal I still crave to this day, and I’ll make pandesal just to have it.

My Pandesal Pilgrimage

Although I was raised on pandesal and knew it was popular in the Philippines, I had no idea to what extent until last year, when I returned for the first time in over 30 years. My first stop was Makati, a neighborhood in Manila and the home of famedFilipino restaurant Toyo Eatery and their sister bakery, Panaderya Toyo. There, they make pandesal with local sourdough starter. “We like to think the pandesal we make is connected to how it used to be back when bread was first introduced to the Philippines (when) there was no commercial yeast — (a) natural rise, baked directly on the baking stone” owner Jordy Navarra explained to me.

Jordy is referring to the type of pandesal made by Portuguese colonizers, who brought wheat to the Philippines in the 1500s. They were thought to have used tuba, a fermented wine made from the sap of a coconut tree, as a natural leavener. In the 1600s, Spanish colonizers opened the first pandesal bakery, where they made pan de suelo, or “floor bread,” baked on the floor of a wood-fired oven. Pan de suelo had a firmer crust and a structure similar to the French baguette, and is still available in the Philippines.Eventually, the introduction of cheaper wheat led to softer rolls, and when Americans colonized the Philippines, they brought instant yeast and baking sheets.

I’d never seen or tasted a pandesal like the ones I had at Jordy’s bakery. It was beautifully knotted like a small pulla or challah bread, and the familiar sweetness was followed by the sourdough’s tang. My mind raced with excitement at the possibility of making a sourdough version when I got home. (Martha Stewart would later visit this bakery and even participate in making rolls!)

After our stop at the bakery, we left Manila for my former childhood town of Olongapo City, where my mother was raised and my family still resides. As we entered, my nose immediately picked up the sweet smells of delicious baked goods. Then I saw it: a giant sign that read “24 hour pandesal” next to a tiny bakery. When we walked by later, we saw a woman pulling fresh pandesal from the oven. It was smaller than what I’d seen before, and was made using the more traditional rolling process. I only purchased four pieces, a decision I would almost immediately regret when I was on the bus back to Manila holding an empty bag.

Back in Pasay City, Manila, I visited another 24-hour pandesal shop. Their rolls were more like the rolls I found in the U.S. — lighter in color, and a little more uniform and flufy, reminiscent of an American dinner roll. My eyes had been opened to all the forms pandesal could take. I couldn’t wait to come home and make them myself.

I’ve made pandesal more than a few times since my return, usually in the dinner roll-esque style I was raised with. I love being able to share one of my childhood favorites with my children. When the pandemic hit and the sourdough craze followed, I remembered the Toyo version and knew I had to attempt a mash-up with my abundance of sourdough discard. Each recipe makes 24 rolls, which seems like a lot, but they didn’t last a week in my house. I include both rolling methods in the recipe so you can choose how you would like to make them.

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