After seven months in the Philippines on a Fulbright grant, returning to graduate school at the University of Iowa is my obligation and my privilege. But the cravings that strike me now are the most visceral manifestations of homesickness I’ve ever known. When I think of breakfast, I want only silog, or pan de sal, or taho. When I think of condiments, I want only vinegar or calamansi or banana ketchup. I wake up craving every variation of pork that Filipinos do so deftly and heart-stoppingly: bagnet from Malate. Sisig from Trellis. Lechón from anywhere.