Rooted in Rice: A Journey Back to What Truly Matters

There are moments during a campaign shoot when everything slows down just enough for memories to surface.

While we were doing the product shoot for our latest campaign, I found myself unexpectedly nostalgic.

We had curated an amazing bundle featuring local fishery and agricultural products—each thoughtfully sourced, each carrying a story of community and land. But one product, in particular, quietly pulled at my heart: heirloom black rice from Ifugao.

Seeing it on set brought me back to childhood.

My parents—most often my dad—used to go on mission trips up north. It’s a part of the Philippines I still feel I haven’t fully explored myself. Whenever he came home, he would bring heirloom black rice with him. I was the only one in the family who truly loved eating it. Its deep color, nutty flavor, and nourishing quality made it feel special—more intentional, more wholesome.

But beyond the rice, my dad also taught me something deeper: food rescue and mindful consumption.

He had this quiet discipline when it came to food and household habits. He shopped in bulk whenever possible, always bringing containers or boxes instead of relying on single-use packaging. If something came in plastic—which was rare—he would carefully fold it, keep it, and find ways to reuse it. Nothing was casually thrown away. Everything had a second life.

In the kitchen, nothing went to waste. Leftovers were reinvented. Ingredients close to spoiling were transformed into something beautiful. Scraps became broths. What others might discard, he saw as opportunity. Without calling it sustainability, he was already living it.

Years later, when we mounted World Disco Soup, I saw that same philosophy come alive on a larger scale. Celebrating slow food, rescuing surplus ingredients, gathering people around a shared meal—it reinforced what I had learned at home. That food is precious. That community matters. That sustainability can be joyful and communal, not restrictive.

Back then, it was so difficult to source heirloom grains on my own. I even remember hoarding rainbow rice from Chiang Mai because I’ve always been drawn to community products—especially those that are healthy and sustainably sourced. There’s something powerful about supporting farmers and honoring food that carries both culture and care.

My fellowship in New Zealand deepened this perspective. It taught me that meaningful change doesn’t always come from grand gestures—it grows from daily habits. At first, living sustainably wasn’t easy. Many of the products I believed in had to be sourced overseas. It required extra effort and intention. But seeing how sustainability has evolved over the years—how it’s slowly becoming more accessible and normalized—has been incredibly rewarding.

Lately, with my schedule becoming more hectic, I’ve been returning to basics: more raw vegetables, more fiber, and more mindful food choices. I’ve started bringing heirloom rice back into my carb rotation alongside adlai (Job’s tears) and shirataki rice. It feels grounding—like coming full circle.

I want to be healthier not just for today, but for my future family. After all, investing in our health is the best investment we can ever make.

I’ve always believed that taking care of myself is essential—especially because of the causes we’re trying to fight for. Advocacy begins with how we live every single day.

Looking back, I’m grateful for how my sustainable lifestyle has flourished:

• 10 years of using a menstrual cup, reusable tumblers, and eco shopping bags

• 7 years of zero-waste and natural shampoos, soaps, toiletries, household cleaners, and even pet supplies

• 5 years of organic skincare and dental products, reducing paper and stationery use, and minimizing food with preservatives

• Practicing food rescue at home and embracing slow food principles

• Supporting local and international sustainable brands for bags, clothing, shoes, and even equipment or tools—choosing quality and longevity over fast consumption

• Recently supporting thrift stores more intentionally, decluttering mindfully, and slowly transitioning toward a pescatarian diet—while still allowing myself the occasional steak 😅

Sustainability isn’t just personal—it’s something we’re embedding deeply into our company culture as well.

We’ve transitioned to digital calling cards and aim to be as paperless as possible across the organization. We’re becoming more mindful of our packaging, continuously improving and reducing waste wherever we can. We’re now working toward becoming zero waste soon—which truly excites me, especially within our R&D processes. Designing and innovating with sustainability at the core feels like the next meaningful evolution of our work.

And hopefully, soon, I can fully commit to using my composting bins consistently and revive my herb garden—maybe even add vegetables to it. That would be perfect. I love using fresh herbs and homegrown ingredients whenever I cook. There’s something deeply fulfilling about harvesting what you’ve nurtured yourself and turning it into a meal—closing the loop from soil to plate.

What started as nostalgia over a sack of heirloom black rice became a powerful reminder: sustainability isn’t a trend for me. It’s a lifelong journey—rooted in family, strengthened by community, and lived out in everyday choices.

And in many ways, I’m just getting started.