Cooking for an anti-imperialist

Me so stupid. Host must cook for hero. Most heroes taken.

I’m talking Neanderthal again. But for my pahabol to the Anniversary Edition of Lasang Pinoy: Cooking for Heroes, I’m preparing a smallgasbord (read: a mishmash) of dishes for Apolinario Mabini, staunch anti-imperialist (though I think he pledged allegiance to the Americanos and died a few months later), dreamer of a Malay confederacy and foreign minister to Emilio Aguinaldo’s short-lived cabinet.

What to do. What to do.

If I was already alive at that time I would persuade him to talk to our neighbors and prepare a unified plan of action for independence from the colonists, hire fierce warriors from the Middle East, and establish trade with Japan, and perhaps reconnect with Madre Espana (her pride is wounded after all at the mock battle in Manila Bay). What an unholy alliance to ward off the bullies from the west.

So there, my food selection pictured below are limited: pork omelette (Siam), soy chicken (Singapore-Malaya and China), shoarma (Turkey), squid curry (India, Indo-China), mango kani salad (Japan), pak choi shiitake mushroom stirfry (China and Japan) but I would also love to add some kari noodles and char kway teow (Singapore-Malaya), gado gado salad and cumi cumi madura (Dutch East Indies) and pho (Indo-Chinese Vietnam). For dessert, I would serve pilipit and balicucha (Philippines), haw flakes (China), yema balls (Spanish Philippines), plus pandan cake (Dutch East Indies) and moh let saung (coconut milk and sago from colonial Burma).

LP21, the Anniversary Edition: Cooking for Heroes

This roundup reminds me of the hearty lunch in Under the Tuscan Sun, or the occasional neighbors dropping by in A Year in Provence.

What am I saying? I’ve moved my blog from here to here, and terribly under construction (just look at my image header!), in need of updating, and now I’ve hosted Lasang Pinoy 21, the Anniversary Edition.

Also known as (trumpets, please, the fanfare kind) Cooking for Heroes.

It’s a potluck, guys. Just bear with the makeshift dining table made of gangplanks and the raw plasters here!

Randell Teodoro of at wit’s end is the roundup’s buena mano with his portable adobong mani for General Antonio Luna who as he found out made a mark in his hometown of Santo Tomas, Pampanga. True to his wit he imagines the general and his troop passing the peanuts until the last bit.

Frances Montero of Iskandals remembers a scandalous rhyme and an old joke about Andres Bonifacio, the unofficial mascot of LP21. She imagines herself a binibini ng katipunan cook Bicol Express to enhance the Supremo’s extraordinary valor (and sneaks a malicious grin for all I can imagine).

Em Dy of pulse recalls an interesting time when she actually prepared Cheese Pimiento Sandwiches for heroes–the people of EDSA Revolution (or to be exact, EDSA 1). To paraphrase her words (which I agree wholeheartedly), it is this food which gave the people power.

Noel Itum of Overseas Pinoy Cooking imagines serving Pakbet to the royal Ilocano couple, Diego and Gabriela Silang. Judging from his pictures and from my experience, authentic Ilocano pakbet fires up one’s ferocity, man or woman (just ask my wife).

Mark Manguerra of Special Effects whipped up Kesong Puti-Spinach Ravioli with Bay-Brown Butter Sauce for Francisco Balagtas. Hands down to this dude for this great fusion cooking (errr, Filipino food is actually the first fusion cuisine if I may digress)! As a poet myself I am sure that the Muse will find this ravioli irresistible and give me inspiration to start a sestina.

I am sure great Andy will have flabs for a second offer–Pancit Bihon Guisado  from Celia K of English Patis. For a hero on the go, “it’s a complete meal in itself.” Scroll just before the recipe and she’s got tips for pancit worthy of patriotism.

Marvin at Burnt Lumpia composed a Sinigang menage-a-trois for GomBurZa (in case your history is rusty at this time, they are the priests who sparked the 1896 Revolution and a dedication in Rizal’s Noli Me Tangere). I can feel a pinch inside my cheeks on this trio.

Chicken roasted in palayok? I never knew that was possible, but might as well try. Dhang Dhang of Dhanggit’s Kitchen cooks Chicken a la Supreme for Dr. Jose Rizal served with Ms. Bracken’s homemade fresh pasta. She capped this with pugon-baked Sublime Chocolate Tart with Caramel. Sweet.

A quite interesting find is Kai@Pangasinan’s Saluyot Tan Labong, a Pangasinan original recipe intended for the court of Prinsesa Urduja of legendary beauty and bravery. Like their language, I know Pangasinan cuisine is a force to reckon with, at par with their colleagues further north.

Desie Santos of maybahay cooked Atsara (Green Papaya Pickle) for General Emilio Aguinaldo. Like the Supremo who is always on the run, her atsara with its hint of vinegary freshness will always be present on Miong’s table, banana leaf or stone by a Palanan river, accompanying grilled baboy damo or whatever flora and fauna are available in the Sierra Madre.

Kitchen Cow’s Kaoko recounts how Jose Rizal invented champorado and rebuts the technical impossibility in the details. Perhaps in a way to demonstrate to Pepe the correct way of cooking and eating this porridge, she prepares Champorado with Tuyo. Perfect for rainy days in Dapitan, I should say.

Mike Mina prepares an Ilocano suite for Juan Luna’s bienvenida. The menu is so impressive and exotic (check out the fire ant eggs). Lesser-known dishes from the north are also brought to the fore (like the interestingly-named poqui-poqui).

So there. Our heroes and their cooks, gratis. Should I say their creations are To Die For?

The not-so-hiatus hiatus post

Migration to a new PC is a go…except that I can’t find the right CPU housing for my needs. Off with the technical gobbledygook, but I’ll be posting pictures probably by next week, or the week after next, when I acquire a Pentium 4 with a roomful of memory (you didn’t know the sleepless nights I had to go through Photoshop on a 128MB SDRAM so I can post foodporn, did you?).

One bit of unluck I had is the loss of my PDA’s Hotsync cable, so I can’t post some more while at the office (like free Internet time? Yes, but please, please don’t tell. And if you’re my boss who happens to pass by, the person writing this blog is not me.). Cost of said cable is a day’s salary, which I need to make room in an otherwise tight budget.

I’ll just make a mini-roundup today of anything food-related, and from this point onward, I can’t promise foodporn on every post (”Thank God!” Dial-up users might have to say because I’m a bandwidth hog, fyi.) but please visit anyway anytime.

A tragedy of carabaos. This must be the reason why I am so not into local corned beef, or corned beef per se, for that matter. But even if I knew that what I am eating is carabao beef, it seems incestous. Carabaos are our companions in the ricefields and I can’t bear to eat them.

Hit or miss on cheese. Pinoycook blogged about good kesong puti from UP Los Banos. Must. Go. There. My past experience with this local cheese was flat. First, bought from hawkers in Pansol, only to be disappointed upon return to Manila since a fistsized package yielded air and a matchbox-size of white, but its tang can’t be missed. Bitin. Then from food expos–one from Bohol came in a jar sealed with paraffin, left in the refrigerator for a year since no one would care to taste the unappealing cheese, or the floating pieces of paraffin. Another came from the Philippines’ carabao center, Nueva Ecija, which looked like soft styrofoam cubes on my salad. Said cheese was bought at Market! Market! and left in the fridge for a month as of this writing, in the hope that it would turn rancid from its state of tastelessness.

Vietnam here, Vietnam there. Wifey and I lunched at Pho Bac yesterday, and I reminded myself to check the net if Vietnam already has a McDonald’s outlet. I haven’t made a fruitful search, and landed instead here. Viets will be supplying catfish to McDonald’s for? Beats me, but it gives me an idea what Filet-o-Fish is made of. I used to think it was breaded cardboard.

“The Philippines is not renowned for its cuisine.” Thank Mark Bittman and his book, The Best Recipes in the World for this wonderful introduction to our Chicken Adobo. *Self-introspection mode* Yes we have ourselves partly to blame, with the proliferation of tasteless gook in our canteens. Proof of this is the reluctance of expats in our office to sample local fare at the cafeteria, unless they’re adventurous. It’s even a demeaning remark to say “Pwede ka nang magtayo ng karinderya” when we get a tasteless (pun intended) remark in an effort to match taste with the rising cost of produce, fresh or mostly, otherwise.

But then, I acted the same when I was posted in Shanghai that I slimmed down because I was skipping lunches of Goodyear-grade beef slices on a broth of boiled water with an identity crisis thinking it was chicken noodle soup. Oh well, maybe we just lack a bit of marketing as Tony Abaya would say.

Would Lasang Pinoy 5 include a bookburning event? I’ll make the invitations.

Lasang Pinoy 4: Rice

(No photos as of this time since the power outlets in our house went kaput last night.)

Even the richest Filipino cannot survive on putanesca alone; to keep him from jumping up from the dining table and murdering the cook, he must be served rice on a fairly regular basis. (Cecile C.A. Balgos, The Tastes That Bind)

I’ve been searching for my personal soul food and though I can invoke several recipes which made me think of an unhurried life, it should be placed in the comfort food category. I think there should be a difference between those two.

The answer came when I imposed a 1-week no-rice lunch diet. It’s not really a correct diet, it’s partially healthy, and it’s not a means to cancel out the All Saints’ Day carbo binge I previously had. I just don’t like canteen food, that’s all.

And so in between bites of a pastrami sandwich I felt an unexplainable lightness, that sometimes translates itself into hunger come dinner time, I realized that I am born with it and would never part with it–rice. This is my soul food.

In all its colors, shapes and sizes, Oryza sativa is the ultimate soul food for me. Like a blank slate it absorbs the flavor of ulam (viand…ever wonder why there isn’t an English term for anything paired with rice?). It creates the balance to the strong flavors of spices. And in leaner times, with salt or soy sauce, it provided for a full tummy, or at least an illusion of it. Like the soul, one cannot live without rice.

In my childhood, I was taught to treat rice with sanctity (probably, but that was my impression before but now I realized my parents are bent on avoiding wastage). Spilled rice, whether cooked or uncooked, should be returned to the vessel or the plate, nothing should go directly to the garbage bin. Even if cooked rice dropped on dirt, it should still be returned to the plate or the banana leaf, to hell with hygiene. Logic escapes me why dirty rice should be returned to the plate even if it won’t be eaten at all, even if the garbage bin is just a few steps away, but I’ve learned to respect rice.

Before I moved out to adult independence, there was never a time we bought rice from the market, because we have farmlands of our own. It has been part of my allowance even when I was just a student. In pre-employment negotiations there is a rice allowance in the benefits list. Goes to show that rice is always good as cash in this side of the world.

We don’t have rice gods like those found in Igorot nations, but there is appreciation, solemnity and reverence attributed to this grain. Probably because my ancestors have been growing rice since the beginning of time, and that we will continue to do so for ages to come.

Some useful rice links:
Rice on wikipedia link
Marketmanila on rice link
Rice-based cookie recipes (surf to other links for suman and cakes) link

Technorati tag: Lasang Pinoy 4

Recipe: Crabs in coconut milk

The reason why the waistline has been way past the tape after spending All Soul’s Day in Baler. Unlike most bloggers I don’t go to the gym anymore.

The secret behind the very tasty sauce of this dish is the use of the broth after steaming (technically it’s not steaming, but boiling the crabs in about a cup of water) the alimasag until it changes color, to milk out the grated coconuts. Alternatively, one can use canned coconut milk and mix some of the broth into the former.

Fiddlehead ferns should be used the day they are picked, which, for the city dweller is quite unfortunate, as they blacken easily when not used within the day. Other vegetables which can be used are sitao and squash, eggplants or banana hearts.

PS. I just found out that the difference between alimasag and alimango is that the former has speckled shells and the latter is very much black.

Katti (Kat-ti)

And so Fire Water Husband is partly back, still acclimatizing back to work. The family’s gone to Baler, Aurora for All Souls’ Day and we were supposed to be back to Laguna by the second of November. Tough luck, since our van can’t make it to the steep roads of Pantabangan when rains rendered the tracks muddy in time for our drive back to Manila.

Katti (or is it kat-ti?) is a snail found off the coasts of Baler. They are boiled and spiked with calamansi (calamondin). Picked fresh and sold for ten pesos a handful, sipping its broth is like tasting the waters of the Pacific. Like a little kid shouting his lungs out on his first time to Baler Bay and his father dunked his head first into the water, sand and salt becoming part of his system even if he strayed far from it.

I’ve searched the web for katti’s scientific name, and I was stalled. Not really affiliated with the Ophiodermella family, but its colorings look like the snakeskin snail, but perhaps related to the heavy turban (called buting in Baler), thus the name Turbo crassus (or was it marmarostoma? I’m not infallible, you see).

The known way to eat the dainty katti is to pick the meat with a safety pin, and remove the hard “tongue” before putting it into your mouth. I did it the butong pakwan way, that is, to pile a heap of katti meat on my plate before spooning it.

Who said only the French liked snails?

Hiatus

Work mounts up because we’re in for a long weekend, ergo my internet engineers will be on holiday too (j/k!). I’ll be offline most of the time during the first week of November.

Until then. I’ll figure out ways to come up with bandwidth-friendly posts for you while presenting foodporn the way I want them to.

I also signed in for NaNoWriMo. What am I getting meself into?

Lasang Pinoy 3: Streetfood

Stef invited me to join Lasang Pinoy 3, hosted by Kai with Streetfood as this month’s theme. The beaucon question is: “If you were a Pinoy streetfood, what would you be?”

I’m quite predictable on this one, yes, I will be food found on the streets of Ilocos, particularly at the plaza of Vigan. I am an Ilocos empanada. I don’t look orange at all, but my mind is always bursting with ideas. The true Ilocos empanada, THE empanada to end all empanadas, including Sandy Daza’s anemic version, consists of a matrix of sauteed vegetables and a piece of longganiza and topped with one whole egg before packing everything up in a wrapper made of flour.

My mouth is watering as I type this, because the best Ilocos empanada can be had in Ilocos alone, and not in other locales, not even in Manila. Even in the searing heat of a March sun in Vigan, sinking my teeth into warm empanadas (and a cake of okoy as you can see in the picture) soaked in cane vinegar gives a different high. I could marry empanadas if possible.

We tried shipping them back to the metro and reheat them but to no avail, as what you can do with chicken empanadas at Empanada Royale. You can take Ilocos out of the empanada, but you can’t take an empanada out of Ilocos.

Something that leaves me with ambivalence if I am to become an expat in the near future.

*I could also be the helmet (barbecued chicken heads) which you see in the thumbnails, animal heads are probably the tastiest parts. Slightly gross. I’ll stick with being an Ilocos empanada.

(The quasi-mandatory) About Me

There are blogs and there are food blogs.

Now that I’ve gone through the hassle of an opening statement, I took a deep breath and opened Fire Water Husband. I practically switched on and off this blog, called it by different names (one of which went by The Empire of Wansuy) and debated with myself for a while what it should look like, what to do with tons of foodporn in my drive and the craving to do it in a photobloggish way and say something sensible in the end.

And so, Fire Water Husband is born. Leave, shoot and eat is just an afterthought, something that better Neanderthals strive to live up to domesticity. In this day and age, my spear is a plastic card and some metal discs for our communal steed but my prey in the country didn’t change much. No free-range, kosher or organic organisms but this is borne more out of logistical shortcomings than choice. We live in hand-me-down land from the termites in the middle of an industrial cesspool known as Santa Rosa.

Some points, too which goes by the clinical name of disclaimers:

I am not Ilocano but my wife is, and so is 90% of the household. But I tend to believe that my father had roots in the northeast because the Guerrero clan says so. Make that 95%. Ilocandia is a harsh landscape and so was Baler, but being transplanted to Pasay in the economic stagnation of the early 80’s is harsh, still. Thus the recipes, but you don’t know how poverty sometimes brings out the creativity in all of us.

Which brings me to the second one. I am not a vegetarian, much more a vegan. It just happened that northern cuisine is host to a galaxy of vegetables we Tagalog imperialists feign ignorance to. Katuray flower is not meant as a joke to your significant other, but a tasty partner to bagoong. And I’m still bothered: is seaweed a vegetable?

It looks like my page views are almost four minutes long, but I’m thinking it’s probably because the pictures take too long to download. Sorry, but it is made that way, and I have plans of my own which are not sinister, for your information. If the images don’t appear, there is always e-mail, or just wait when my plan materializes, which should be months from now.

It’s just that (places hand on chest then takes a deep breath) I feel ennobled showing off a culinary heritage that is well around us that we take for granted, or treat with exotic curiosity and place it high alongside our dusty gewgaws because that is where we get our social acceptance. I don’t take brand names in my recipe listings, but any gift would be nice, thank you.

Last, I am not a pro photographer, a pro designer or a pro chef. It just happened that I knew Photoshop when I was still a wiry freshman. I may know something but not everything, so there may be times that I make mistakes. As one northerly joke goes, to err is human, to gue garao.

Oh, there goes my job description. I am really an engineer.

Recipe: Dinengdeng

“Modern technology…allows me to guarantee the exact time and temperature for cooking the dishes. That’s progress. But when it means banalizing the taste of products, that’s a step back, and, cook that I am, I rebel.”

–Alain Ducasse

Like clothes to a man, it’s not the grilled fish, honey, that makes a dinengdeng. The lifeblood of this broth is bagoong Pangasinan, which should not be confused with bagoong alamang. The former is composed of fermented fish while the latter is fermented shrimp. Our bagoong comes from Pangapisan North in Lingayen, but even if we buy them boneless and by the dozen, it’s become a habit to strain the broth for the occasional wayward scale or a stray sludge particle.

I still have to make a hard and fast rule on what vegetables can be included in a dinengdeng. No carrots, cabbage, broccoli or anything “Western” but I’ve tasted one with oyster mushrooms and everything went well. No aromatics for sure, like onion, garlic and leeks. I can’t say use natives or go Oriental because kangkong and pechay are not in the list. Probably anything that can spell “harsh” like the texture of burlap–okra, ampalaya and sitao. But then again add the sweetness of camote and the dish transforms into Buridibud. For eastern Tagalogs bordering Ilocandia meanwhile, adding horseradish (hagod) is already treading into Bulanglang territory.

Just add whatever vegetable you fancy, but bear in mind that dinengdeng is a state of mind. These greens should marry the bagoong willingly to produce an Ilocano umami the way they do with pinakbet. Sipping a tablespoon is an aquired taste, but after the first slurp, there’s no looking back.

To a cup of boiling water, add a tablespoon or two of bagoong Pangasinan and simmer for a while, about five minutes. Strain and put the broth back into the pot. Add two or more of the following vegetables:
a cup of sitao cut into 2-inch lengths,
a cup of okra,
a bunch of camote tops,
a bunch of saluyot leaves,
a cup of chopped and seeded ampalaya fruit,
a bunch of ampalaya leaves,
a cup of sliced eggplants,
a bunch of ar-arosep,
a cup of peeled horseradish (hagod),
a cup of malunggay leaves,
a cup of chopped cigarillas,
a cup of cubed camote,
a cup of banana blossoms,
a cup of bamboo shoots,
a handful of flor de carrabaza (squash flowers),
a bunch of carrabaza tops

and many more.

When the vegetables are cooked but firm, adjust the taste and add more water if necessary. The dinengdeng can be served as it is or topped with grilled fish, leftover or otherwise. For a sour variation, which is usually done over banana blossoms and saluyot, add tamarind powder or dried kamias (see preceding post). Serve warm with rice.