The Diverse Journey of Banana Ketchup

“Banana ketchup has always been a staple,” shares Paolo Campbell. Growing up, he enjoyed it with chicken and as the foundation of sweet Filipino spaghetti sauce, and he now features this condiment at Chicken Supply, his Filipino fried chicken stand in Seattle.

In the global Filipino community, banana ketchup—commonly made with bananas, sugar, vinegar, spices, and food coloring—dominates over tomato-based ketchup. Traditionally used for preservation, ketchup can be crafted from various fruits, mushrooms, or even seafood, but the banana variety garners exceptional love. The bright red bottles of Jufran and UFC, both made in the Philippines, are such familiar sights that chef Jordy Navarra of Manila’s Toyo Dinogoy believes Filipinos may take them for granted. “It has become a fundamental condiment,” he remarks. “In a Western kitchen, you’d rely on chicken stock; for us, it’s banana ketchup, along with [the fermented seafood paste] bagoong and [the preserved dish] buro.”

Just as chefs are creating their own tomato ketchups despite Heinz's dominance, cooks throughout the Philippines and its diaspora are experimenting with this beloved sauce. Campbell describes his banana ketchup as “richer” than store-bought versions, as he uses roasted bananas, brown sugar, turmeric, and jalapeno and guajillo chiles to create a “barbecue-like” flavor. The version from Toyo Dinogoy carries a poetic touch, starting with bananas sourced from the region near Mount Pinatubo, which suffered devastating eruptions in 1991. The kitchen combines these bananas with onion, garlic, bay leaves, and some tomatoes for color, and seasons them with vinegar derived from the peels. Toyo even features banana ketchup as the name of the dish on the menu, rather than tortang talong—the eggplant omelet commonly associated with the condiment—that accompanies it.

Banana ketchup serves as a canvas for endless reinvention, and these innovative interpretations are not mere whims. They reflect a rich tradition of adaptation, extending from culinary innovation during colonization to contemporary reinterpretations of Filipino cuisine.

The lush native landscape is the bedrock of Filipino cuisine, yet it is equally shaped by external influences such as Spanish colonization, American expansion, and trade with countries like China, Malaysia, and Mexico. Following the U.S. takeover of the Philippines in 1898, a mission was launched to 'civilize' and educate the local population. Food was central to these efforts; American concerns about the native diet prompted the import of their own food products, leading many Filipinos to develop a taste for items like Spam and, notably, ketchup.

In the years following the introduction of tomato ketchup, the high cost of imports, both for the ketchup itself and the necessary tomatoes, combined with the Philippines’ increasing dependency on foreign goods, drove food scientist Maria Orosa to create a local alternative. Banana ketchup was among her innovations, some of which earned her recognition as a war hero during World War II. Orosa recognized 'the vast potential of many products native to the islands that, if utilized correctly, could enhance the country’s self-sufficiency,' as noted by Amelia Rampe in Food52.

Today, the Philippines’ abundant banana supply makes them more suitable for condiments than tomatoes, according to Navarra. Locally grown tomatoes tend to be tart and crunchy, making them better suited for sour soups than sweet sauces. While imported tomatoes are available, their high cost—around 60 to 100 pesos (approximately $1-2) each—compared to the much lower price of locally grown varieties makes them less appealing for widespread use.

At the core of Filipino cuisine lies the process of indigenization, as described by the late scholar Doreen Gamboa Fernandez. She stated, 'This process typically begins with a foreign dish in its original form, introduced by outsiders (Chinese traders, Spanish missionaries). A native cook then learns it, adapting it to their own tastes and available ingredients, effectively borrowing and modifying it.' Over time, this results in a new dish so integrated into local cuisine that its origins fade from memory. What was once foreign becomes distinctly Filipino, as is the case with ketchup.

As educators like Aileen Suzara have clarified, imported processed American foods were initially portrayed as healthier options compared to the traditional Filipino diet. However, as the negative health impacts of these processed ingredients have become evident, consumers are returning to a more traditional, nutrient-rich Filipino diet.

The Filipino American pantry brand Fila Manila avoids artificial colors and flavors in its banana ketchup, emphasizing quality ingredients and health. “Our aim is to embody the next generation of Filipino American flavors,” says founder Jake Deleon. Developed in collaboration with chef Harold Villarosa, Fila Manila's rich-colored banana ketchup incorporates bell pepper and contains significantly less sugar than other brands, with only 1 gram per serving compared to 8 grams in some alternatives.

“The banana ketchup we produce meets the rigorous standards of Whole Foods,” Deleon states; this grocery chain maintains a list of over 230 banned ingredients, which includes the red and yellow dyes found in Jufran’s banana ketchup. Achieving placement on Whole Foods shelves was crucial to Deleon’s mission of showcasing Filipino ingredients beyond Asian grocery stores. Their product is also available at Sprouts and Target.

In Quezon City, Philippines, the restaurant Hapag prepares its banana ketchup using fermented bananas, tomato paste for color, caramelized onions for sweetness, and local vinegars—either tuba from coconuts or sukang iloko made from sugar cane—for balance. It is served alongside a small, tostada-like version of Ilocos Norte’s empanadas, originating from the northernmost region of the Philippines.

Banana ketchup is a key component of Hapag’s innovative fermentation program, blending influences from Japan (koji) and Denmark’s Noma (garums) with traditional Filipino elements like fish sauce and vinegar. This approach reflects Hapag’s broader vision. “It’s progressive Filipino cuisine,” says chef and co-owner Kevin Navoa. “We aim to move beyond the concepts of ‘old’ or ‘new’ Filipino.” The intention is not to replace existing traditions but to celebrate them and push their boundaries further.

As banana ketchup evolves, it serves as a testament to how Filipinos have crafted something uniquely delicious from the legacies of colonization and cultural suppression. Each new rendition reminds us that all foods are subject to change, and even those we embrace as our own can be reinterpreted to feel more personal.

Initially, Campbell hesitated to include banana ketchup on the Chicken Supply menu, uncertain if diners would be open to trying it. However, encouraged by his business partner Donnie Adams, he decided to take the plunge. “I thought I’d only make a batch or two throughout the month,” he admits. “Clearly, that turned out to be a huge miscalculation.” A year into the venture, the small takeout-only counter now produces so much banana ketchup that it needs two or three batches a week, each containing 10 pounds of bananas.

“I’m genuinely thrilled that people enjoy the banana ketchup,” Campbell says. “Honestly, that’s probably the biggest surprise of this entire experience for me.”