Name: Filipino Pork Adobo
Prep time: 15 min
Cook time: 1 h
Total time: 1 h 15 min
Yield: 4 servings
Cuisine: Filipino
Ingredients: 2 lbs pork shoulder, cut into 2-inch cubes; 1/2 cup soy sauce; 1/3 cup cane vinegar or white vinegar; 1 onion, sliced; 6 cloves garlic, minced; 2 bay leaves; 1 teaspoon whole black peppercorns; 1 tablespoon brown sugar; 1 cup water; 2 tablespoons cooking oil

Let’s Talk Adobo (and Why I Keep Coming Back to It)

So, Filipino Pork Adobo. If you’ve had it, you get it—if not, you’re absolutely in for it. The first time I tried to make this, I was convinced I’d messed up because it looked, well, kinda odd midway through (all grey-brown and soupy?!), but by dinner—MIND. BLOWN. My Lola (that’s grandma, in case you’re not deep in Filipino slang) used to say “just let it be and trust the process”, which honestly sounds like generic life advice, but when it comes to adobo, it’s gospel. Also, funny detail: I once left it on the stove a little too long because I got distracted watching reruns, and my family still jokes that’s why they like their adobo extra thick now. Classic me—can’t cook without a side of chaos.

Why You’ll Love This Version (Or At Least, Why My Family Does)

I make this pork adobo mostly when everyone’s home—which is a circus, honestly—or when I want that cozy, home-coming kind of smell waltzing through the living room. It’s the “everyone grabs seconds” meal. You know, my friend’s super picky daughter actually likes it, and she won’t touch anything that looks remotely saucy! My family goes bananas for it, especially because it’s got that tangy savory combo (plus, less dishes than most stews—can I get an amen?). Also, my brother claims it tastes better after sitting in the fridge overnight, and even though he exaggerates things, he’s actually right with this one. Just don’t try to speed up the marinating, or you’ll end up wondering what the fuss is about.

Let’s Round Up the Ingredients

1 kg pork belly (or shoulder—sometimes I use whatever cut’s discounted, no shame)
1/2 cup soy sauce (my Lola swore by Silver Swan, but honestly, use your usual one and it’ll be fine)
1/3 cup cane vinegar (white vinegar works; apple cider’s actually kinda nice if you’re out of the classic)
1 onion, sliced thin (technically optional, but it gives this mellow sweetness)
6 garlic cloves, smashed (more or less—I barely ever count)
2–3 bay leaves
1 tsp whole peppercorns (or a heavy pinch of cracked black pepper, if you don’t want whole bits in your teeth)
2 tsp brown sugar (my own rogue addition—Lola would side-eye me, but I dig it)
Almost 1 cup water (I start with 2/3 cup, then add more if it needs it)
Oil for browning (veg oil’s fine—sometimes I even skip it and just render the pork fat)

How I Actually Cook Pork Adobo (Not Always By the Book)

Chop your pork into rough, chunky cubes. About an inch, or, just throw in bite-sized pieces if you’re not feeling precise. Fatty is best; trust me.
Grab a decent pot: brown the pork on medium-high heat. You can use a splash of oil, or even better, just let some fat render out. If it sticks a little, that’s flavor! Don’t crowd the pan—I’ve learned the hard way: patience = tastier bits.
Toss in the onions and garlic. I let them get a bit soft and goldenish. If you burn the garlic, start over—it’s not worth hoping it’ll “mellow out.”
Add the soy sauce and vinegar (don’t stir right after the vinegar hits; just let it bubble up for maybe a minute—something about the reaction, or at least that’s what my auntie says). Then add peppercorns, bay leaves, and brown sugar.
Add water (start with a bit less, because you can always pour in more if the sauce evaporates too much). Bring it all to a proper simmer. At this point, the house will smell… intense. It’s a good sign.
Turn it down, pop on a lid (or kindof balance it halfway so it doesn’t bubble over), and let it cook for ~45 minutes. Stir every so often—this is when I sneak a taste and adjust salt or sugar. The sauce should thicken and turn shiny. If it still looks thin, take the lid off the last 10 minutes. If it’s too salty, honestly, just add a splash of water and pretend it was intentional.
Fish out the bay leaves (or leave ’em in—no judgment). Done! Serve with hot rice and loads of sauce ladled over.

Some Things I Figured Out the Hard Way

Don’t marinate too long—overnight is okay, but more than that and the pork gets funky. Once, I tried a two-day marinate, and wow, tang city.
If the sauce tastes too punchy, just simmer longer. Somehow it always mellows out after a bit.
I read somewhere you should never skip the bay leaves, but I’ve done it (ran out) and it still tasted, well, adobo-ish. Don’t stress it.

Variations I’ve Tried—Some Good, Some Not-So-Much

Chicken adobo—pretty classic, and I toss in potatoes because I like ’em gravy-soaked.
With coconut milk. Actually, I find it works better if you finish with a splash rather than cook it all the way through. Otherwise, it gets weirdly oily.
Throw in hardboiled eggs during the last 10 minutes. Kids love this, and it’s like a surprise every time.
One time I tried making it with tofu for a vegetarian friend. Umm, didn’t quite hit the same spot (sorry, Josie!)—but maybe you’ll have better luck?

Do You Really Need Fancy Equipment?

I mostly use a big old pot, nothing special. But I tried making it in a slow cooker that one time I needed to free up some stovetop space—it works, just chuck everything in and let it go low and slow for about 3-4 hours. No biggie if you don’t have a slow cooker; just simmer gently on the back of the stove (preferably while catching up on group chats—multi-tasking is a sport).

How I Store It (But It Never Lasts)

I’ve read you can keep adobo for a week in the fridge. Ha! Honestly, in my house it never lasts more than a day—sometimes barely making it to leftovers. But if you’re more disciplined, it holds up well, and yes, I genuinely think it tastes even better the next day. Just reheat gently (sauce thickens, flavors get cozier), or eat it cold. No judgment.

How I Like to Serve Pork Adobo

It’s gotta be with rice. Steamy, white rice, because otherwise, the sauce gets lonely (and, okay, who am I kidding, it helps with the tang). Sometimes I add a side of quick pickled cucumbers, but usually I’m too hunrgy to bother. For family get-togethers, we top it with crispy garlic bits (extra effort, but show-offs gotta show off). Once in a blue moon, I serve it with garlic fried rice for brunch. Top tier, trust me.

Things I’ve Learned… Usually by Messing Up

Do not rush the simmer or the pork will be so tough you’ll think you bought rubber by mistake.
Once I tried skimming the fat off the sauce to make it “lighter” and, well, it just wasn’t as rich. Sometimes you just gotta let the fat do its dance.
Actually, I find it works better if you brown the pork in batches. Every time I try to crowd the pan, I regret it because you miss out on those tasty brown bits.

Some FAQ from My Own Kitchen Crew

Q: Can I use chicken instead of pork?
Yep, totally—just reduce the simmer to about 30 minutes. Actually, it’s probably the most common adobo variant.

Q: My adobo is SO salty! What did I do?
Ah, that’s happened to me. Add a splash of water, maybe a pinch more sugar, and let it simmer a bit longer. Next time, go lighter on the soy at first (easier to add more than take it out, right?).

Q: Is adobo spicy?
Nope, not really, unless you decide to toss in some fresh chili (which, hey, I sometimes do when feeling wild).

Q: Can I freeze it?
Absolutely, though texturally it changes a smidge. I mean, adobo is basically the Filipino meal-prep MVP. If you can resist eating it all first.

Q: What kind of vinegar?
Traditional is cane or coconut, but I’ve used plain old white and, on second thought, apple cider’s surprisingly good.

And just like that, you’ve probably read more about adobo than you needed, but hey, at least you know all my secrets (plus a few mistakes you can avoid). Happy cooking, and don’t forget to just trust the process—adobo always turns out, even if you wander off halfway through.

Filipino Pork Adobo: My Tried-and-True Cozy Recipe