Asin Tibuok: The Rare 'Dinosaur Egg' Salt Returning from Extinction

Discover Asin Tibuok, the ancient Filipino 'dinosaur egg' salt, a rare culinary treasure on the brink of extinction now experiencing a vibrant revival.

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Asin Tibuok: The Rare 'Dinosaur Egg' Salt Returning from Extinction

May 19, 2026

A Hidden Treasure Revived: The Return of the 'Dinosaur Egg' Salt

Nestled on a small, verdant island in the Philippines, a culinary marvel, Asin Tibuok, stands as one of the world's rarest salts. This prehistoric-looking, orb-shaped mineral, fondly dubbed the "dinosaur egg" salt, was once on the brink of vanishing but is now experiencing a remarkable comeback, championed by passionate chefs and digital trendsetters alike.

In a rustic, thatched-roof workshop on Bohol island, 68-year-old Romano Apatay meticulously carries on an age-old tradition. With a scoop fashioned from an empty shell, he pours concentrated brine into a series of brown, clay pots, suspended carefully over a crackling wood fire. As the pots surrender to the intense heat, forming hairline fissures, Apatay removes them, allowing them to cool. With gentle fingertips, he then breaks open their brittle outer shell, revealing a pristine white sphere – an Asin Tibuok, or "unbroken salt," a true gem among Earth’s natural minerals.

This distinct ovoid shape has earned it its popular moniker, "dinosaur egg" salt. While once an everyday staple across Bohol, the production of Asin Tibuok dramatically dwindled over recent decades. Today, Apatay is among a handful of dedicated artisans on the island breathing new life into this labor-intensive craft, safeguarding it from fading into history.

Echoes of the Past: A Salt with Deep Roots

The legacy of Asin Tibuok on Bohol dates back to at least the 1600s. Its unique production method first captured the attention of a Spanish missionary in the 17th century, who documented the local practice of filtering seawater through charred coconut husks and baking the resulting brine inside clay orbs.

However, ethnoarchaeologist Andrea Yankowski asserts that this ingenious indigenous Filipino craft predates even the arrival of the Spanish. Her discovery of Asin Tibuok twenty years ago ignited a passion, and by 2019, realizing only a fewmangasinays(salt makers) remained, she embarked on a mission to document their invaluable work.

"Many communities along the southern coast of the island participated in salt making," Yankowski notes. "This salt was a valuable commodity, regularly traded to the island's interior for rice and other agricultural products, and even to neighboring islands."

For generations, coastal families produced Asin Tibuok, using it in a distinctive way – tying a string to the egg-shaped salt and dipping it into savory rice porridge. But as themangasinaysaged and younger generations sought less arduous livelihoods, the intricate practice nearly vanished. Decades ago, an estimated 100 families produced it; today, only a fraction remain.

"It is very important for me to save a craft that could die out," Apatay states, his voice brimming with pride. "I am proud of the legacy of my forefathers."

From Near Oblivion to Global Spotlight

In recent years, this centuries-old tradition has found an unexpected resurgence, largely thanks to the enthusiastic embrace of TikTokers and Gen Z chefs drawn to its smoky, earthy flavor. In 2021, Filipino YouTube sensation Erwan Heussaff shared a viral video showcasing the salt-making process to his millions of followers. The "dinosaur egg" salt even made a star appearance in a 2023 episode of the Filipino Netflix dramaReplacing Chef Chico. Further solidifying its importance, Asin Tibuok received recognition from UNESCO in December 2023 as an Intangible Cultural Heritage in Need of Urgent Safeguarding.

A significant hurdle to its preservation was a 1995 Philippine law mandating that all salt be iodized. This regulation contributed to the steep decline in traditional Asin Tibuok production. However, as awareness of the dinosaur eggs' profound cultural value grew, the ruling was finally lifted in March 2024, paving the way for its continued revival.

Reigniting a Family Legacy: The Manongas Story

Father Cris Manongas, born into a family of salt makers, witnessed firsthand the decline of the craft. Though he assisted on the salt farm as a child, the family business shuttered in the 1980s, and he and his siblings pursued other paths. Each return to Bohol brought the poignant realization that fewer producers remained. In 2010, driven by a deep longing for "the aroma of the salt" and a desire to prevent its loss, Manongas encouraged his siblings and a nephew to restart their salt-making venture.

Initially, his family hesitated, daunted by the prospect of reviving such a painstaking, heat-intensive craft. Yet, their commitment to heritage prevailed, leading to the relaunch of their company, aptly named Tan Inong Manufacturing Corporation, after Cris's grandfather.

Manongas explains that craftingthe rare 'dinosaur egg' returning from extinctionis a process demanding over four and a half months, a testament to its unchanged, generational methods. It begins with gathering more than a thousand coconut husks, which are submerged in mangrove pits for four months to soak at high tide. The husks are then sun-dried, chopped, and meticulously burnt in a fire for up to four days. The resulting coconut ash is placed in a filter of palm leaves, and seawater is poured through it, creating a rich brine that is finally poured into the clay pots.

While his grandfather’s generation transported husks by bamboo raft or carabao-pulled carts, Manongas invested in a truck and installed a pumping station, streamlining the process without compromising its authenticity. This adaptation highlights the delicate balance between preserving tradition and embracing practical advancements.

Harmony of Tradition and Trade

Manongas's grandfather, like many salt makers of his era, viewed the practice as sacred, believing Asin Tibuok should only be bartered for rice, never sold. However, with a loan taken to restart the trade, commerce became a necessity. "We had to charge at least $150 (€112) to break even," Manongas admits, recalling how he sought his grandfather's silent approval at his grave the day before their launch.

Despite the commercial necessity, other sacred rituals remain inviolable. During the salt-cooking process, all workers must remove jewelry, refrain from carrying coins, and avoid oily foods. Seashells are exclusively used to add water to the pots, as they withstand the furnace's heat without tainting the salt's delicate flavor.

Veronica Salupan, Manongas's sister, emphasizes the intensity of the final cooking day: "We start cooking at 08:00 and eventually finish at 15:00."

Yet, the arduous production paled in comparison to the initial commercial challenges. "There was no market," Manongas recounts. "Filipinos thought it was too expensive." The tide began to turn in 2015 when tourists and students blogged about the salt, catching the eye of a Filipino-American businesswoman in California who placed a staggering order for 1,000 pieces. It took the family a full year to fulfill it.

The journey was not without further setbacks. In 2020, the pandemic halted orders, and in 2021, a devastating typhoon leveled their business. Yet, the local community rallied, helping the family rebuild with fallen coconut palms, demonstrating the resilience deeply ingrained in Bohol's spirit.

Five years later, the business is flourishing, and the Asin Tibuok industry in Bohol continues its expansion. In 2022, 26 former salt makers united to form a cooperative. With crucial support from the National Museum of the Philippines in Bohol and the British Museum, they received a grant to construct a traditionalkamalig(salt workshop), ensuring the craft's future. Today, renowned Filipino chefs eagerly seek their exceptional wares.

The Culinary Renaissance of Asin Tibuok

Chef Jordy Navarra, whose Michelin-starred restaurant Toyo Eatery in Manila was crowned the nation's best by Asia's 50 Best Restaurants, has skillfully integrated Asin Tibuok into his eight-course tasting menu. Navarra, whose wife's family hails from Bohol, first encountered the salt in 2018 when a friend, aware of his penchant for unique ingredients, introduced him to it.

Navarra discovered that Asin Tibuok possessed a more subtle complexity than iodized salt, revealing two distinct flavor profiles. "The interesting part is the top part and the bottom part of the salt tastes different," Navarra explains. "One side takes more of the characteristics of the smoke, maybe because of its exposure to the fire," while the other remains free of that smoky nuance.

While traditionally used to season soups or savory rice porridge, Navarra innovatively serves it with dessert. "We wanted to highlight the actual salt taste profile and really serve it as unadulterated as possible. So, we ended up serving it on ice cream," he shares.

Instead of the age-old practice of dipping the salt orb, Navarra's team grates it tableside for guests. "We present the whole block of salt so people can see it," he says, inviting diners to experience the salt and ice cream separately, then together, to appreciate its transformative effect on the dish.

Gourmet chocolatier Raquel Toquero-Choa, co-founder of The Chocolate Chamber in Bohol, also champions this smoky artisanal ingredient, featuring it in her salted chocolates and salted caramel chocolate powder. "Rich cacao is made more vibrant with a touch of this rare salt. Its natural mineral saltiness makes chocolate more alive," she enthuses.

"Just as cacao was once a hidden treasure, I see Asin Tibuok in the same way: rare, fragile, and deeply rooted in our heritage," Toquero-Choa concludes.

The Enduring Spirit of the Salt Makers

Back in Romano Apatay's modest workshop, once the salt-filled clay pots have cooled, these precious "dinosaur eggs" are finally ready for their journey. He transports the prehistoric-looking orbs to a small shop in front of his home, where he sells approximately 240 pieces each month to curious tourists.

Apatay acknowledges the demands of salt making, particularly the grueling task of constantly tending the coconut husk fire for up to 96 hours. "No sleep, because our shed may burn also," he chuckles, revealing the unwavering dedication required.

But it's the renewed interest in Asin Tibuok, this unique salt, that fuels his spirit. "I feel so proud," he affirms, a testament to the enduring pride in preserving a vital piece of Filipino heritage.

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