Puerto Princesa's Chao Long

[Beef Stew Chao Long, Pork Special French Bread]

The Puerto Princesa food scene is well-known for its Vietnamese eateries, the city having been a haven for who were termed the boat people in times past. By the end of the airport strip, along the coast of Honda Bay near the Kalayaan Beach Resort, there is a small enclosed garden marking the place where the first refugees from Vietnam landed.

A Vietnamese camp had been established within the vicinity of the airport, but has since been relocated 15 kilometers away from the city. The Vietnamese restaurants/eateries - just houses, really - remain in the city, though, the Vietnamese cook replaced by local apprentices.

Vietnamese restaurants offer a wide array of specialty dishes imported from the homeland. Ingredients previously unavailable in the area were introduced into the local flora, and the making of raw materials have become a sort of a local cottage industry.

The agency which my husband works for sends working units every year to Puerto Princesa, so it happens that most of those in the agency have "come back come back" (this is a local term applied to tourists/visitors who are bitten by the Palawan bug that they hanker to go back again and again, smitten by the beauty and lifestyle offered by the province, but in the case of my husband's colleagues, they are forced - willingly so - to go back due to work requirements).

So the husband - being his first time in Puerto, though not in Palawan - and I were in the company of "veterans," and they took it upon themselves to introduce us newbies to their favorite haunts.

And the foremost of these - the major one, actually, and I heard that they pine for it in between work assignments - is Puerto Princesa's chao long. Right on our first night we were taken to Bona's Chao Long Haus, on the street where most of Puerto's famous eateries were once located.

There are many chao long outlets in the city, but Bona's is THE chao long as far as our hosts are concerned. I never got to try others, so I can't compare, but I can't complain - our hosts have all the reason in the world to worship Bona's. And worship they did, every night.

I should qualify here that this is Puerto Princesa's chao long, because according to available literature on the internet, the Vietnamese chao long, as found in the streets of Saigon (Ho Chi Minh City), is "scrummy" rice porridge (the chao) laden with innards (the long), or lugaw bituka in Filipino.

Puerto Princesa's chao long is flat, thin rice noodles in a sweet-savory broth with your preferred meats (beef, buto-buto or beef bones, pork), served with the requisite plate containing sprigs of mint and basil, raw bean sprouts and a piece of kalamansi.


A regular bowl costs Php30, the special bowl (nothing more special, just a bigger bowl and more noodles and meat) Php45. Chao long is the only dish being offered, along with French bread made into a sandwich (filled with your choice of pork, chicken, tuna or egg, at Php25) and drinks.

The veterans cite a couple of reasons for being chao long addicts - first, that Bona's is the only place where one could have a decent fill so late in the night or in the wee hours of the morning in a city where all restaurants close at 10PM.

Second is the chao long, and the accompanying French bread, itself. It is a very fortifying bowl to immerse oneself in after a long day at the beach, or after exhausting long hours at work, or a night of hard partying, or of an extended drinking session. Any excuse is valid for a chao long trip, and believe me, even no excuse at all.

For it was really quite addicting. From the first tentative sip to the last precious slurp - sllluuurrrrrppp, to the last drop - you are hooked for life.

Many times, when I was told that we were going to chao long (it becomes a verb, as in "chao long tayo!" or "let's chao long"), that I had to complain - what? again? aren't there any other restaurant in PP? - but off I always went, dropping the baby in the nanny's lap.

The long thin noodles were unlike anything you could find anywhere in the Philippines, even in Vietnamese restaurants that have international presence. They are made of rice, as are those in pho restaurants (pho being the Vietnamese term for rice noodles), but in the Puerto chao long's case, it was very, very, sticky that it seems it was made of malagkit (glutinous rice).

The noodles were almost translucent, as opposed to pho being quite opaque. The servers said it is delivered fresh, from the Vietnmese settlement. The taste, and feel, of fresh noodles as compared to dried noodles, is like comparing the north and south poles to the equator. It is a world apart, and made me almost averse to the dried kind.


Our hosts' preferred chao long is the beef stew - sweetish soup laden with thin strips of beef long-cooked in spiced broth. The spices, and probably achuete (annatto seeds), render the soup a bright orange hue and infuse it with a rich flavor.

The kalamansi, and maybe a few drops of chili paste, cut through the richness so that it doesn't become cloying. The herbs provide aroma and added flavor, and add a varied texture by way of a crunch.

The pork, plain beef, or buto-buto chao long are the same, except that the soup is clear broth. Boiled egg can be added upon request. The special size is good enough for two if you've had dinner previously, but not that much if eaten on your own. We've had instances when we've had dinner then had a chao long special each about two to three hours later, and had no problem finishing the entire bowl.

The perfect pair to chao long is freshly baked French bread made into a sandwich, Vietnamese style, of course, served real warm. Pork special is the bestseller - the bread is sliced lengthwise, brushed with the beef stew sauce, laden with chopped grilled pork, and spread with a dollop of mayonnaise.

I've tried other variants - chicken and tuna - but the pork special, as indicated by the name, is the special of the lot. The chicken French bread is almost the same as the pork special, with the addition of chopped fresh cucumber. Tuna is spicy hot and dressed plainly in oil, garlic and onions.

Bona's makes good business. The many tables inside the eatery spill out to the roofed front lawn, where we always had our chao long. Service is brisk, and because the chao long and French bread have to eaten while still hot, table turn-over is high, and fast. Barkadas, office workers, drinking buddies, entire families with lolos and lolas and young kids in tow, and even lone diners, troop in at all hours.

Proof that Puerto Princesa chao long and French bread together make for an enjoyable, first-rate meal, any time of the day, any day of the week, rain or shine. It is strong with come back come back. Guaranteed.

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Bona's Chao Long Haus and Restaurant
Manalo Avenue Extension
Puerto Princesa City
Palawan

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Pho Hoa Noodle Soup chain of Vietnamese restaurants offer beef stew noodle soup, called pho bo kho. The small bowl is considerably more expensive (Php173.60) but is only slightly bigger than the special size chao long, though it has some slices of cabbage, chopped carrots, and more beef (chunks, not slices) and noodles. It tastes almost the same as chao long, but the pho or noodles is galaxies away. I'm sure it is of the dried kind.

Pho Bo Kho after I have mixed in the basil and bean sprouts.

Grilled pork sandwich (php128.80) with a lettuce leaf, cucumber and onion slices, and a mustard-based spread, served with kamote (sweet potato) fries. The bread was tough and chewy, indicating it wasn't freshly baked.

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Pho Hoa
Ground Floor, North Parking Building
SM Mall of Asia, Pasay City
Pho Hoa locations in the Philippines.

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Posts About Puerto Princesa
Sea Urchins
Seashells
Fresh Fish
Daing na Tahong
The best chocolate cake in the country!

Puerto Princesa Restaurants
Balinsasayaw Inato and Grill
Kalui
Baker's Hill

Related Posts
Rai Rai Ken
Mitsuyado Sei-men

Cakelines by Jon-Rhiz

Cake of the Month

As the family marks my third child’s progress onto her first year, I will be celebrating her monthly birth day in this blog by featuring a cake. Lined up for the next twelve months, and hopefully on afterwards, are old-time favorites, reliable standards, as well as new discoveries, as I go on a quest for the best cakes around the country.

This is a three-layered chocolate cake, 24cm in diameter and 11cm in height, inclusive of the one-centimeter thick marshmallow icing, of Cakelines by Jon-Rhiz, a chain of bakeshop and catering services in the province of Cavite.

It was pretty, with sprinkles evoking an explosive party, pink sugar flowers and large pink marshmallows on mint green-sprayed background, the colors being the motif of my daughter's baptismal reception. The cake itself tasted okay, the layers alternating with a thin chocolate ganache filling flavored with chopped peanuts, which served to enhance the nut-tiness of the cake.


But it was so dry it parched my throat. It was like eating dehydrated cake. We gave away most of it, the rest we ate under mounds of ice cream. But even then we couldn't finish it.

This cake reinforced my professed aversion to chocolate cakes, which most bakeshops and cakeshops insist on making.

But I am featuring Cakelines by Jon-Rhiz because it is Cavite home-grown, and it provides a decent local alternative to the most accessible cake chains in the country - we only have a Goldilocks, and the nearest Red Ribbon is an hour away.

In fairness, the rectangular birthday cakes - in vanilla and chocolate - are better than their counterparts in the two aforementioned "national" cakeshops. That's why Cakelines is included in my cake of the month series. The main outlet is just outside the gate of the community where I live, so I don't have to lug home from Metro Manila cakes and rolls whenever we have a party, or even a birthday. I would prefer Cakeline's birthday cakes and decorate them myself, or let the kids stylize it, to any other birthday cake, anytime.

The large vanilla rectangular cake (Php450, junior size P330, roll Php180) comes in two layers, sandwiching a creamy filling. The chocolate variant is moist, the chocolate icing thick and luscious. We've had the chocolate in fellowship dinners of the ladies' association in the neighborhood, while the vanilla is a favorite in birthday parties held at home, by the neighbors and by us.

To Cakelines' credit, their cakes' level of sweetness is on the low side, and the chiffon is light and airy. The decorated cakes can rival any stylized ones in Metro Manila, and if it is hired to do the catering for an event, the buffet presentation, decor and table top, done by stylist Altaire Endencia, is incomparable.

I hired Jon-Rhiz to cater my daughter's baptismal reception, and I had an almost lifesize carousel that went round and round all through the event. The venue's ceiling rose to two stories, and the centerpiece in the middle of the buffet reached up to the roof.

Cavite residents recommended Jon-Rhiz, and while I had reservations about the menu (the usual pasta, roasts, meat rolls and breaded fillets, all in cheese sauce), and I wasn't able to manipulate it to my liking, the food was okay - the dishes had individual tastes, unlike in most parties in Metro Manila where everything has a tendency to taste the same. And they all tasted good, surprisingly.

The usual roast beef in mushroom gravy - very good, although very common.

Steamed asparagus and sliced button mushrooms with cheese sauce

Chicken and bacon roulade, a better version of cordon bleu. The cheese sauce was magnificent.

The best chicken lollipops I've ever eaten. The biggest and softest, too.

Fish fillet with tartar sauce, uber common and ordinary, and mine is better, excuse the sky-high self-confidence.

The chocolate used in the chocolate fountain wasn't so bad, and they provided different pastries (eclairs, tarts and crumbles) for dipping, a novelty since most fountains just have fruits and marshmallows. Of course I added wafer rolls, mallows in various shapes, fresh fruits and salty potato chips for the kids.

All in all I was happy and satisfied. Never mind the cake. It was just a freebie, anyway.

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Cakelines by Jon-Rhiz

• San Antonio, Cavite City
  (6346) 4318939, 4315990
• P. Burgos Ave., Cavite City
  (6346) 8801286
• Naic, Cavite
  (6346) 8560915
• Gen. Trias, Cavite
  (6346) 8872157

johnrhizcakelines@yahoo.com

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Cakes of the Month
Divine Chocolate Cake by Divine Sweets (Puerto Princesa City, Palawan)
Dayap Chiffon Cake by Chocolate Kiss (UP Diliman, Quezon City)
Belgian Chocolate Cake by a La Creme (San Fernando City, Pampanga)
White Chocolate Mousse, by Gateau de Manille (Katipunan Road, Quezon City)
Mango Cake, by Red Ribbon (with branches nationwide)
Ube Cake, by Goodies N' Sweets (several location across Metro Manila)
Mango Charlotte, by Sweet Bella (Dasmarinas Village, Makati City)
Strawberry Shortcake by Vizco's (Baguio City)
Almond Chocolate Fudge Cake by Malen's (Noveleta, Cavite)
Caramel Cake by Estrel's (Quezon City)
Marshmallow Birthday Cake by Estrel's (Quezon City)

Daing na Tahong

[Sun-dried Mussels]

Another one of market finds that Palawan locals emphatically told me not to forego before leaving Palawan (aside from sikad-sikad, lamayong danggit and Divine Sweets) is daing na tahong, which looked like about eight to ten mussel meats pieced together and dried under the sun.

I was told to deep-fry the lot to a crunch, otherwise they would be tough to eat. But they were thin enough, and it was a bit like biting into jerky, but not that tough and not really particularly chewy.

Tahong is a regular feature on our dining table, because I live in an area where mussels are harvested and sold fresh daily. We have it in a soup, or baked, or grilled, or battered and fried, and even in adobo.

But this is my first time to encounter tahong in daing form. Cooked fresh tahong, as it is, is already flavor-packed. Sun-drying expectedly concentrated the flavors, so this is an intense mussel, with all the taste and aroma of dinaing.

The first bite rendered the unmistakable dried mussel taste of tahong chips (made in Cavite) - an intermingling of the sun, the sea, and dried flesh. But unlike the chips, the daing has no malansa (fishy) aftertaste, and the explosion of flavor at the first bite settles into an established rich taste.

A good, calcium-rich alternative to tapa and fish daing that commonly brighten up breakfasts. Perfect with tomato slices, fried rice and eggs.

Other Finds in Puerto Princesa
Sea Urchins
Seashells
Fresh Fish

Puerto Princesa Restaurants
The best chocolate cake in the country!
Bona's Chao Long
Balinsasayaw Inato and Grill
Kalui
Baker's Hill

Other Posts on Tahong
Grilled/Crispy Fried Tahong
Kasilyo-Topped Baked Tahong
Tahong-Halaan Tinola

Puerto Princesa is Definitely Fishy

[Steamed Blue Marlin with fried garlic and lemon-butter]

The Puerto Princesa wet market is a study in the abundance and variety hoarded by the Sulu Sea, and even the South China Sea. It is a cornucopia of the bounty of the seas, from shells, to edible sea creatures, and of course, marine fish from the deep.

Starting at about three o'clock every afternoon, the day's catch start streaming in. The variety is also a study in contrasts - there are tiny, three-inch sardines and galunggong (round scad) at Php20/kg, baby octopi (Php50/kg), medium-sized albacore (Php110/kg) and dorado (dourade) selling for Php60/kg, and hefty giants like blue marlin (Php180/kg) and pinya-pinya (local cod) at Php150/kg, chopped so they can be displayed on the tiled stalls.

[Twelve-kilogram Yellowfin Tuna]

And the colors, too - what a sight! - nothing could be so vivid as having been out of the sea only a few hours before. The pelagic fish are in the characteristic silver that we have come to expect from fish that we eat, but their sheen so clearly intense to the point of being dazzling. Palawan is in the Viasayas area, and medium-sized fish sport tropical colors so bright and varied that the entire market could be a canvass of Kurosawa's dreams.

There are burgundy-spotted blowfish, eels striped with lemon-yellow alternating with electric black, siganid (samaral, spinefoot or rabbitfish) dotted with sunshine orange, parrotfish screaming with the colors of the bird they are named after. The local gindara (silver cod) is caped in black with a pineapple-like pattern of yellow "eyes," the lapu-lapu (grouper) in gorgeous reds and browns and slinky leopard black and jaguar patterns.

I could go on, but fish for me is not purely for viewing, and it's not much fun watching fish lying inert on white tiles. So I got whatever I could lay my hands on, going back to the market every two days to try other varities, and froze twelve kilos worth to bring back home.

I bought the panga (translated as jaw, literally, but refers to the whole head) and the belly of the largest one (male) from among the yellowfins above. Cleaned and de-gutted, I had nearly seven kilos of flesh from freshly caught tuna. At Php110 per kilo, it was slightly more expensive than the Php100 selling rate at Citramina, a chain of stores selling all kinds of tuna products. But it wasn't frozen, I saw what the entire fish looked like and got to watch as it was cut up.

We grilled the tuna rubbed with sea salt in several batches, dipping it in lasuna-spiked vinegar and soy sauce. Bronzed on the outside and moist and smoking inside, it was so good eaten with bare fingers so you could poke in and around the bony head.

I wanted to buy one whole local gindara and grill it, too, brushing with some teriyaki marinade, and jumping up and away every time (which is about every five seconds or so) the grill bursts into flame. But the husband forbade me to. He didn't like what the fish does to one's system (Xenical-like side effects), even though the fish is one of the most delicious in all the world. He would be the one carrying it for me, so I couldn't force it on him, and longingly left the gindara.

[Steamed Lapu-Lapu Fillets]

The best way to eat blue marlin, for me, is cut in thick slices, steamed then salted, dressed lightly with melted butter mixed with lemon juice, and sprinkled with garlic finely pounded and fried to a crisp. The white flesh is lusciously creamy without any hint of lansa (fishy taste), the minimal dressing only serving to enhance the taste and round-up the flavors. Simply delicious.

I also like lapu-lapu steamed. I love the steamed lapu-lapu served in Chinese restaurants that for years I have been trying to approximate it. In Puerto Princesa I bought a four-kilogram black grouper and had it filleted. The head and tail part we fried and dressed with vinegar-based sweet-and-sour sauce.

I steamed half of the fillets in a ceramic pan, saving the resulting fish stock. Then I heated some sesame oil in a pan and put in sliced leeks, and mixed in the fillets along with some stock. A dash of salt and pepper and a drop of chili oil for color and aroma, and it was done. Not exactly like the Chinese steamed lapu-lapu, but it was close, and quite delectable. A portion of the fillets was made into fish nuggets for the kids, and the last portion was added in a chowder-like seafood soup.

[Fried Lapu-Lapu with sauteed tomatoes]

Three pieces of red and tiger (spotted with brownish-black) lapu-lapu, each about a foot long, weighed about 420 grams, and the cost (Php38) nearly drove me insane (maloka-loka ako). These were pan fried then put in an escabeche. Escabeche in Pangasinan is a "peasant's dish" - pan-fried fish mixed with sauteed tomatoes until the orange juices have seeped into the fish. It is always a wonderful way to eat fish, the flavors melding into a depth surprising in a dish considered poor man's fare. It lends well to any kind of fish, but it is perfect with lapu-lapu because of its neutral taste.

[Fried Lamayong Danggit]

We enjoyed fresh big samaral in sinigang (soured soups). I was hunting for daing na danggit (sun-dried small rabbitfish), but the only ones available were of the day-old drying kind. I avoid one-day dried danggit because it still retains a lot of moisture, so they weigh more and you get less fish, and there is the big risk of finding white little worms on the daing several days after.

The next best thing was the lamayong danggit. As explained by the locals, lamayo (accent on the last syllable) is the term for anything butterflied or flayed and marinated in vinegar, garlic and peppercorns, or dinaing (or in Pangasinan, pinindar), as opposed to daing, which is just flayed and salted, then sun-dried.

Lamayo tastes actually better than daing, but marinated fish has to be frozen and lasts only a few days, while daing can last for years if stored properly. And anyhow, the fish used for lamayong danggit is samaral (siganid) while the daing version uses danggit, which are of the same family species but are worlds apart in taste.

The samaral is distinguished by dots/stripes/vermiculations in iridiscent colors (usually orange), large and thick with flesh, while the danggit is usually silver-gray, very thin, with black or yellowish dots and are smaller. The samaral is valued around the world because of its white flesh and rich flavor, and we Pangasinenses love it so (we call it malaga) that we culture it in brackish ponds. The danggit is so malansa it can only be eaten salted and dried.

The lamayong danggit I got from Puerto Princesa was flayed with the spines separated whole. We fried the whole lot, and found that the "skeleton," including the head, was crispy enough to eat. The lamayo had been frozen for about three days before I remembered to cook it so the flesh had absorbed the marinade well. It was zesty with the garlic and vinegar, yet still silkily creamy.

When we talk about our Palawan trip my husband always waxes poetic about the lamayong danggit. I think I should marinate malaga one of these days.

Related Posts
Malaga
Malaga in broth

Other market finds in Puerto Princesa
Seashells
Sea Urchins
Daing na Tahong

Puerto Princesa Restaurants
The best chocolate cake in the country
Bona's Chao Long
Balinsasayaw Inato and Grill
Kalui
Baker's Hill

Tirik

[Sea Urchins]

Besides the beautiful edible seashells that are unfamiliar to me - I haven't come across them in Pangasinan and Cavite and in my island-hopping adventures across the country - one of the most exciting features of the Puerto Princesa public market is the almost daily offering of sacks upon sacks of live tirik, which is the Cuyo term for sea urchins.

And at Php10 for eight pieces of small-sized ones, or Php20 for six pieces of medium size, they are, incredibly, dirt-, cheap. Well, almost.

I trekked around the tiny island of Malapascua in northern Cebu, and along the shores thousands upon thousands (this may sound like an exaggeration, but that's how it looked to me) of tirik, in every imaginable spine pattern and color, were gathered at the base of rocks and crags. Free for the taking. Also on the shores of Bantayan Island, in the northwestern portion of Cebu, though not in the same, breathtaking quantity.

If I had known then how to eat them right then and there, I might have died of sea urchin overdose, if there is such a thing. As it happened, I encountered nobody who could teach me how. Maybe they didn't eat sea urchins in Cebu.

In Puerto Princesa sea urchins are valued as pulutan (referring to the Pinoy food accompaniment to any alcoholic drink).

[Vegetarian lunch]

As instructed by market vendors, breaking open sea urchins to get to the edible part was actually easy. Using the blunt edge of a big knife, the test, which is how the sea urchin shell is called, is halved, and the seawater that filled it to the brim overflows.

The test is full of what the sea urchin has eaten, mainly roughly broken sea grass and seaweed, but also some tiny sea creatures. I was told that those who are used to ingesting tirik drink the brine and eat the curd.

[Butt-naked]

Clearing the half-digested debris, the urchin's anus, located on the upper center of the test, shows itself. There is a transparent brownish red appendage connected to it from the sea urchin's mouth, which is at the opposite end on the bottom of the shell.

[Briny yema]

The prized edible part lines the lower portion of the test - five thin triangles of rich yellow. These are the urchin's gonads, and they, as well as the star pattern on the outside of the shell, are proof of the sea urchin's relation to the starfish and other similar sea creatures (I think they're close cousins).

[Tiny spines waving as if with the currents]

The first time I ate the edible part (the yellow gonads, popularly known as the sea urchin roe, only, since I am not used to eating tirik) of a sea urchin was in a Korean restaurant in Makati City many long years ago, with several Korean investors in the country, who took care of the ordering.

I remember vividly, to this day, how it tasted like. The first sensation I felt was its texture - a bit slimy, with the consistency of a soft tongue. It tasted vaguely sweetish, and reeked of the sea where it came from. But the general impression was that it was like raw fish roe - in consistency and taste, because fishy tones stayed at the back of your throat upon swallowing it.

That first taste was affirmed by subsequent orders of uni temaki (sea urchin rolls) in Japanese restaurants around Metro Manila. So, it was a great surprise how Puerto Princesa tirik, fresh from the sea and eaten on the same day that it was harvested, tasted.

It was sweet, and brightly so. It tasted as bright as its yellow hue. And no fishy undertone whatsoever, which finally settled the nagging doubt at the back of my head that uni came from a medium-sized fish.

The Puerto Princesa vendors told me to eat the tirik on the same day I bought them, and if for some reason I couldn't do this, I should scrape the roe and store them in the refrigerator. The uni in Metro Manila restaurants are probably of the refrigerated, maybe even frozen, kind. Or maybe they came from a fish, hehe.

For those who have delicate stomachs but want to try eating tirik, the vendors advised that the tirik be roasted before opening the test. The person in charge of my husband's outfit in Puerto Princesa, a big hulk of a man over six feet tall, said, when I offered him some tirik I was half-buried in, "Ahh, maybe we should roast them first?" The second-in-line said he was happy with the sikad-sikad.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I could actually live in Puerto Princesa. The market is full of touristy things like the souvenir shops full of interesting woodworks (though they are the subject of some controversy as some feel it is a bastardization of tribal culture). And the requisite tie-dyed thingies and daing (sun-dried seafood) stalls, and freshwater and South Sea pearls and beads in all sorts of color, shape and size, and at such low prices they drove me crazy. I was overwhelmed by the quantity of roasted, fried or air-dried kasuy (cashew nuts, err...seed), and dehydrated fruits turned into chips, particularly langka (jackfruit) from Vietnam.

But you hit these spots only during your first few days. When you're staying for the long haul, you turn to the more essential parts of the market. Like the vegetable section, and the condiments section, and of course the wet market portion.

And I could be at home in Palawan, as I had concluded (nay, desired) time and again every time I went back. But the previous times I hit this conclusion because of the beauty and serenity, and greenness and freshness that turns all things sparkling, of the province. This time it was affirmed by the available food that could be cooked like I was home.


For I found that in the Puerto Princesa public market there is ar-arusip (lato or lato-bilog, green seaweed Caulerpa lentillifera, also known as sea grapes) in almost the same size and taste as that I grew up eating in Pangasinan (smaller and brini-er than the common lato), with other kinds of seaweed besides.

Besides fish and seafood, vegetables were aplenty. All that I'm used to. Even the "Baguio vegetables" - cabbage, spring onion, celery, potatoes and carrots still sporting clumps of soil - typically grown in the hinterlands. And everything needed to cook a decent pinakbet.

But more importantly, I found, with much joy, bagoong (salted fish paste), alamang (salted fermented krill) in two variants - wet and and dry - and much to my delight, saluyot and labong, bunga'y marunggay (bunga ng malunggay, the fruit or "pods" of the moringa oleifera tree) and, incredibly, baeg (!), which is not commonly found in Metro Manila and practically non-existent in Cavite markets (though my cousin has a tree planted in her Imus backyard, and sometimes gives me a bagful), and which I thought was only eaten by Ilocanos, Pangasinenses and Batangueños.

So for the whole stretch I felt at home. In the full sense of the word.

This is an entry to the 2nd edition of To Market, To Market hosted by Gay at A Scientist in the Kitchen. You can find the round-up of markets from around the world here.



Other market finds in Puerto Princesa
Seashells
Fresh Fish
Daing na Tahong

Puerto Princesa Restaurants
The best chocolate cake in the country
Bona's Chao Long
Balinsasayaw Inato and Grill
Kalui
Baker's Hill

She Sells Seashells By the Seashore

The tongue-twister may well apply to Puerto Princesa City, the capital of the province of Palawan. It lies bounded by the Sulu Sea on the east and the South China Sea on the west, so it has an extensive coastline. The province of Palawan itself is one long strip of land, surrounded by great beaches from north to south and east and west.

Our unplanned, though greatly anticipated (we knew the husband was going there, but didn't know when, until the afternoon before our early morning departure!) two-week vacation in Puerto Princesa meant home-cooked meals, because it would have been economically impractical - unhealthy, too - to eat out for the whole stretch.

Our accommodations included a kitchen, and though it was not fully outfitted as well as I would have liked, it sufficed for our daily meals. A member of my husband's unit that went there doubled as cook, who was also responsible for the marketing. I tagged along on his trips to the city public market to buy the family's provisions.

These jaunts were short trips, and I was always late arriving at the parking lot where our vehicle waited - I was used to taking my time going around, inspecting everything before making a purchase, and I was also used to buying a whole week's worth of food.

It turned out that the marketing chore was on a daily basis, which explained why the refrigerator was almost always empty. We were in Palawan, after all, the home of bountiful seafood delivered fresh daily.

On my first day at the market I bought everything that was unfamiliar to me, not knowing when I could be back there again. The pelagic fishes I knew, and although I was sorely tempted to buy whole ones because they were so cheap compared to Manila and Cavite (and even Pangasinan) prices, I controlled myself.

It was on the shells I concentrated on - there was plenty to tease my takaw-tingin eyes, that I stamped my feet in frustration upon learning that most of the sea creatures on sale could not be frozen, or refrigerated, but had to be cooked and eaten on that day. I bought tubs and tubs of a variety of shells that ended up dead, smelling of waste and sorrow and flooding the sink with briny water.

[A tub of sikad-sikad]

A favorite of Puerto residents is the sikad-sikad (Php30/tub), the name calling to mind pedicabs, or leg-powered tricycles (Visayan name is traysikad). These are small conches abundant in beaches in the area (but can also be found in other coastal areas across the Philippines) and feature in native seafood menus of the city's restaurants.

Sikad-sikad are quite tasty - the tastiest of the lot, evoking the flavor of crab-leg meat - but are a pain to eat. The creature that lives inside the colorful shell - sporting different designs - is pale yellow with brownish mauve edge lines, largely flat, and sport three prongs. It is very small, though, and the shell's opening quite narrow, that it is impossible to pull or suck it out.

I had to employ a large safety pin to get to the meat, first piercing it then forcefully pulling it off the shell. I got the hang of it after only a few pieces, and it became addicting. The meat was rewarding enough, and was only slightly gummy.


All across the country I am always told to cook shells in gata (coconut cream), and in Puerto Princesa it was no exception. I choose not to follow the advice, though, and cook shells just in gingered broth - specially when eating something new - so I could fully appreciate the flavor. Gata enhances any dish, but tends to overpower anything with subtle flavors.

In the sikad-sikad's case the gingered broth was perfect - it was naturally flavorful, lending its taste to the soup that turned yellow-orange tinged with green (probably from the lichen on the shells). I'm sure with gata it would be a rich brew.


I thought these shells, called sikuray/sikuday in the Cuyo language if I remember right (Php30/saucer), were for decorative purposes only - the geometric patterns so charming and the meat prettily sporting a weave design.

They are eaten in Palawan, but the empty shells are used in native handicrafts. Even when dry they don't lose their deep hue and pattern. I've seen some empty shells being sold at souvenir shops for Php10 a piece, which made me regret throwing away the shells that I bought.

The shells and meat are bigger than the sikad-sikad, but are more chewy and bland. I think these would be ideal cooked ginataan.

There is another shell whose photo vanished into thin air, literally, along with more than a year's worth of food photos, when my laptop contracted an airborne virus. That shell is the smallest, and my favorite among all the shells I've eaten.

The shell has a silvery sheen, much like a mother-of-pearl, and spirals into a sharply pointed tip. It is sold with the tip and almost half the shell pounded off so the meat can be easily sucked out.

The Cuyo name is alimporos (Php20/tub), and the vendors told me it is called susong-dalaga in the Tagalog region. For me it was quite apparent why the shell is called thus - in the Pangasinan language alimporos means puyo (cowlick), though I couldn't properly get the question of whether it means the same thing in Cuyo across to the vendors.

When I asked what alimporos means, I was told it refers to the shell. And when I followed it up with "Does it refer to any other thing besides the shell?", I was told it refers to the shell.

It recalls a cowlick because of its spiral shape. But it recalls the other thing that it refers to in Tagalog, too, because it is a dainty little thing, pointed and upright, looking so virginal. Oh the things we call our food!

Eating alimporos is quite tricky, requiring a strategically placed tongue on the shell opening and both cheeks sucked in. Once you get the trick the tiny meat goes along in one swoop, easily because of the broken end. Alimporos is delicious, and I ate an entire bowl full of the shells plus broth, though it took me the better part of an hour.

Other Finds in Puerto Princesa
Sea Urchins
Fresh Fish
Daing na Tahong

Puerto Princesa Restaurants
The best chocolate cake in the country
Bona's Chao Long
Balinsasayaw Inato and Grill
Kalui
Baker's Hill