Golden, flaky, tasty deep-fried fatty pork. (Trisha Ruiz, Buzz writer)

Salty, slightly sweet. Crispy, if you’re lucky. Juicy, with a richness that “fat-free” could never hope to accomplish. Because, well, it is fat. Pork fat. You know it. How many times have you watched Anthony Bourdain (Monday nights on the Travel Channel) eat a fresh roasted pig, straight off the spit, and wished you were next to him with a fistful of pork skin and a blissed out smile on your face. I know I have.

This is why the lure of Filipino food hits me so strongly. Not because of any cultural connection with the food, though I’m sure that figures prominently, as well. No. It’s because Filipino food offers some of the best pork in the word. And we keep the fat on. The fat is the best part. If you watch enough travel and food television, you start to realize that it’s really only in the U.S. that we trim the fat off our meat. The rest of them, those folks know what they’re doing. (Not that you can’t find good, fatty pork in the states. That being said, if anyone knows of any restaurants in the Champaign-Urbana area offering pork belly on their menus, for God’s sake, go treat yourself. And then tell me about it, because I’m going.)

Litson (or lechón), whole roasted pig, is the pride of Filipino cuisine—an expected and highly anticipated guest at every big Filipino party. Cut into cubes in such a way that each delectable layer is discernable. The top layer of crispy, golden skin; chewier and more flavorful than any factory-processed pork rinds you’ve had. A layer of dense, luscious fat –tender and more juicy than greasy, and then a layer of meat, thin and lean but substantial enough to balance with the fat that so heavily outweighs it. Really, though, none of that other stuff actually matters when all you want to do is rip the skin layer off each piece, leaving the rest shivering and naked. But that’s not fair to everyone else.

You could say that pork fat is an acquired taste, especially to those who were raised in the world of 90% lean beef and turkey burgers. The distaste for anything greasy or with a chewy, greasy, jiggly consistency has been ingrained in the palates of many. But now, with the rise of foodies and aspiring gourmets—thanks to the popularity of things like the Food Network and the celebrity chef—the health craze has slowly begun to give way to the an enthusiasm for things new and delicious.

This, of course, with the requisite of “only-once-in-a-while” or “my-diet-starts-tomorrow.” But people need and deserve a little wiggle room, especially with food being not only a staple in survival, but also something directly linked with our emotions. (Why else do we reach for the tub of ice cream after a bad breakup? He certainly didn’t break up with you because you didn’t eat enough ice cream.) And eating rarely feels as good as when the flavors are big and rich and real—admittedly uncommon with fat-free food, with which everything tastes somewhat hollow.

I believe it was Emeril who said, many times, “Fat is flavor.” Yes, sir, it is. And pork is my favorite flavor.