In the heart of the town of Daet, capital of the province of Camarines Norte, lies Barangay Cobangbang, a quiet community that has kept alive one of Bicol’s sweetest traditions since the 1950s. For more than seven decades, its families have practiced the craft of making sorbetes, the Philippines’ native ice‑cream by way of turning simple local ingredients into livelihood, culture, and pride. Yet for decades, this legacy has carried an unfair, arbitrary label, that is, the so-called “dirty ice-cream”. It is the name that native ice-cream makers of today are determined to erase.

A Tradition Set in the 1950s

The story began shortly after World War II, when Daet was rebuilding its economy, and people looked for ways to earn a living. During the liberation period, ice cream was not yet a part of the lexicon of Daeteños. It was only the well-off families who could afford to buy ice cream being delivered via the regular flight of Philippine Airlines.

But there was a not-so-popular nook somewhere in the old Barrio Carumpit in Daet where ice-cream making was a source of income for some enterprising families.

Barrio Carumpit was later renamed Barangay Cobangbang in honor of an affluent family who used to own vast tracts of agricultural lands in the area. It was said that some residents of Barangay Cobangbang learned the craft of making the native ice-cream or the so-called sorbetes, from the Spanish word sorbete. The locals adapted the sorbetes method, introduced earlier on by the Americans in Manila, by using their own resources. Instead of the expensive and imported dairy from cow’s milk, they used fresh carabao milk and thick coconut milk (gata), which were abundant in Camarines Norte’s farms and coconut groves. This unique adaptation led to the distinct street food today known as sorbetes, which used to be sold using colorful wooden pushcarts and a small bell being rang to attract customers.

Rock ice and coarse salt, churning in wooden carts or large metal cans, became their “freezers” long before electricity‑powered machines were common.

From the 1950s onwards, the industry grew from backyard batches to a community‑wide enterprise. Families passed recipes and techniques down generations. They learned the trade secrets on how to balance sweetness, how to infuse pili nut, mango, buko, ube, cheese, and local jackfruit, all of which were iconic flavors of Daet’s sorbetes.

By the 1970s‑80s, Cobangbang sorbeteros were known across Daet, recognizable by colorful wooden carts and the familiar ringing bell. Through economic shifts, storms, and modernization, the craft survived and continues to this day, more than 70 years later.

The “Dirty Ice‑Cream” Myth: A Name That Stuck Unfairly

For decades, however, a shadow hung over the success story of ice-cream making. Over the years, it acquired the moniker “dirty ice cream.” However, that nickname never described sanitation or quality. It was borne out of misconceptions and marketing. Some said it referred to street‑side exposure. Others claimed that big commercial brands tried to coin the words to make their brand seem “cleaner” than the ones produced by street ambulant vendors. Others say the oldies used the appellation dirty ice-cream to warn the children before hygiene standards were widely understood.

But Barangay Cobangbang ice-cream makers have expressed their strong feelings of disagreement with those who refer to their products as dirty. They averred that their product has always been clean, and they observe hygiene in their production site. They maintained that they always boil the milk, they use fresh ingredients, and they follow strict batch‑by‑batch care, even without fancy labs that are found in commercial production lines.

Still, the label stuck arbitrarily, though. And for them, it is quite hurtful, misleading, if not downright discriminatory. Nowadays, Barangay Cobangbang’s ice‑cream makers speak with one voice. They want this name, “dirty ice-cream,” gone forever. They explain that sorbetes is not “dirty”. That being native, handmade, clean, and honestly produced means that it is free from dirt, impurities, or unwanted substances. Today, a lot of makers adopt cleaner work‑stations, they undergo food‑safety training, and they follow existing sanitary standards. Therefore, it only proves that being traditional does not mean unsanitary. Their goal is to be called by their true identity, which is Native Ice‑Cream or Daet Sorbetes, a mark of pride and not shame.

Economy, Culture, Resilience

Since in Barangay Cobangbang, ice‑cream making serves as the backbone of local livelihood, it supports farmers supplying milk, coconut, fruits, and other native flavors. It provides substantive income as well among local vendors who travel across Daet and nearby towns, no longer using wooden colorful pushcarts but motorized and modified tricycles. In schools, fiestas, and markets, Daet Sorbetes has been part of growing up. Scoops in cones or sandwiched in warm pandesal, it gives off a taste of childhood shared across generations.

What makes it special is resilience. Even as factory‑made brands flood stores, Barangay Cobangbang Sorbetes still holds its ground because no mass‑produced version can match the depth of carabao‑milk creaminess or the richness of Daet‑grown pili, langka, or mango. It also stands for sustainability, local sourcing, zero‑waste habits, and energy‑smart traditional methods.

Ways Forward From “Dirty” to Distinct

The story of Barangay Cobangbang shows that tradition continually evolves and does not stand still. Born in the 1950s, refined through time and now ready to reclaim its good name, this industry is a model of Bicolano grit. Erasing “dirty ice cream” is about honoring the truth, dignity, and heritage of the local small entrepreneurs and not just a matter of semantics.

When you taste Cobangbang sorbetes, you are tasting 70‑plus years of care, community, and the Bicolano sunshine sorbetes, which are clean, delicious, and proudly local. It is no longer a “dirty ice-cream”! It is simply a pride of Daet’s sweetest heritage today. Barangay Cobangbang’s native ice cream has great economic prospects ahead, especially for those in the grassroots.

The header features children eagerly waiting for their ice cream from the sorbetero. All photos in this article were captured from Museo de Bulawan’s Sorbetes video. Click link to view Museo Bulawan’s FB reel “Malikhaing Camnorteño: Likhang-lasa ng Sorbetes ng Brgy. Cobangbang.”

About the author

ABEL C. ICATLO is a Cum Laude graduate of the University of the Philippines Diliman with a degree in Bachelor of Arts in Philippine Studies, Major in Political Science and Philosophy, and holds his Master’s degree in Public Administration from the Philippine Christian University. A former faculty member at the University of the Philippines and the University of Asia and the Pacific. A 2025 UPAA Distinguished Alumni Awardee in Culture and Arts in Cultural Heritage Preservation and Promotion. He is the Curator of Museo Bulawan in Daet, Camarines Norte.