Bunga'y Marunggay

Marunggay (malunggay/moringa, Moringa oleifera Lam) leaves are commonly known in the Philippines as a nutrient-packed vegetable and a very economical cooking ingredient, that I thought everybody else ate the other parts of the tree like we do, as well. That is, until I brought home some friends from my college dormitory in the summer of our freshman year.

The first dinner at home my mom served unripe malunggay pods lightly boiled with bagoong (salted fermented fish paste), and one of my guests bit on a piece and pronounced it hard. I was aghast to find out that she didn't know how to eat it, much more that she didn't know the pods are considered a vegetable.

I thought then she was just one ignorant provincial lass, but I soon found out not everybody ate malunggay pods. Even later on I realized that Pangasinenses, and then some, are actually the exceptions when it came to eating malunggay pods. Nobody actually ate it but us, and our neighboring Ilocanos.

Every house has a tree in front, for the household's own use as well as others who pass by that may fancy using the leaves for tinola, or the pods for sinagsagan (boiled with bagoong). Passers by usually just need to holler a request to the owner. An extra request for a kalawit (a long pole fitted with a net or small blade/knife at one end) is needed with the bunga or pods, though, as they usually shoot forth at the top of the tree.


Pods are harvested young/immature, when the seeds are still soft. For the fastidious ones the pods are partially peeled, cutting from one end and then pulling the tough skin all the way to the other end, and repeating the process all around. In our house we don't usually bother - we just cut the pods into pieces and cook them.

For those who are not familiar with bunga's marunggay - eating it takes a bit of manual skill. There are two ways to go about it. First, you take a piece, put it entirely in your mouth, leaving just a small tip protruding outside, clamping your teeth on it. Then hold the protruding tip and pull out the piece entirely, keeping your teeth pressed tight, so the edible, soft pulp gets left inside your mouth, leaving only the now scraped-clean skin.

with baeg, patani and kamote cubes

But that's not advisable in our house, as my summer guest found out. The second way is employed when pods that haven't been partially skinned are served. This is actually a bit more civilized - break the piece of pod lengthwise, then scrape the pulp from both halves with your spoon. This is cumbersome, though, and lengthens eating time significantly. The first method is more efficient, besides, and the sucking involved, messing about and skin fibers getting entangled with your teeth are all part of the enjoyment of eating bunga'y marunggay.

with baeg and kalabasa

Lately I've found out that Cavitenos eat bunga ng malunggay. But they save ignorant folks from the embarrasment of biting on hard pods, for vendors sell malunggay pulp peeled and scraped from the pods. These are sold by the kilo, and go straight to the cooking pan in sautes.


It saves a lot of time, from the cooking prepwork to the eating, but somehow I don't prefer it over the pods. For one, it spoils faster, and I've learned that fruits and vegetables start losing their nutrients the moment they are peeled. But it's just me - I grew up scraping pods, with marunggay fibers in my teeth.

good with squash, or sliced eggplants

Other Pangasinan Favorite Vegetables
Baeg
Katuray
Labong
Bagbagkong
Bunga'y Lakamas
Pekak
Apayas tan Agayep
Kamansi
Sayote Tops

The 30-Yolk Leche Flan

Okay, enough of mangoes. It's all piko and pajo (which in Pangasinan we call pao, accent on the last syllable) now anyway, the cache of carabao variety seems to have dried up at last.

We don't eat ripe pikos as is, but they're good as a flavoring ingredient, especially to pastries and other baked goods, or incorporated in desserts, like mango sago. Pajos we only eat unripe, with rock salt and crushed chiles, or turn into green mango shake.

The dish featured for today is no less sweet, however. May is fiesta time all over the Philippines, and fiestas are usually characterized by excess, with the word itself connoting superabundance.

Leche flan is a simple but rich dessert that's sure to be served during fiestas in the Philippines, made with egg/egg yolks, milk, sugar and caramel. But this leche flan is over-the-top OA, or over-acting - slang for highly excessive. It contains all the yolks from a tray of eggs, plus five more from the five whole eggs added to it, so it is actually a 35-yolk leche flan.

I and my family, like all Filipinos, love leche flan. It is the first thing we scan for during parties, and the first thing we get a portion for ourselves. Naturally in any gathering, even in restaurants serving Filipino buffets, it is the first to disappear from the dessert table.

And because I host a lot of parties we usually make lots of leche flan throughout the year. My main househelp makes good leche flan with a dozen whole eggs, a big can each of evaporated and condensed milk and the juice from a few pieces of calamansi, with sugar undiluted with water caramelized at the bottom of the llanera (the oval-shaped tin pan that's used to cook leche flan in) over direct heat.

Steamed, this is the leche flan I prefer over other leche fans I've eaten and bought. It has the perfect mouth-feel - smooth, melt in your mouth, not overly sweet, the creamy, sweet, bitter-sweet, and citrusy notes well-balanced. We usually come up with six llaneras of leche flan from this mixture.

Now there are those who swear by a lot of things when it comes to leche flan making. Some people are loyal to a brand of milk, or to what kind of milk (as to fat content), and some insist on a particular number of egg yolks or yolk to whole egg ratio.

I use canned reconstituted milk because they are easily available, but I use fresh carabao's milk whenever I have the energy to source it out. I have a friend who sticks to eight egg yolks plus one egg because it's the best ratio she has so far come up with from all the leche flans she's created since she was small. There are those who advocate fifteen egg yolks. A TV chef recommends five yolks. There's my dozen comfort zone.

And there's my househelp.

While giving instructions for a recent party at the house I told her I'd like some leche flan for dessert. It was a slightly bigger party than what we normally host, so I calculated we'd need three dozens of eggs and bought the corresponding number of canned milk.

A few days later, however, the househelp told me she had given the matter a lot of thought, and realized that, after many years, we had been using the wrong ratio.

The big realization was that what they use in her barangay (she used to help in cooking for weddings and big parties in her area) is a whole tray of egg yolks.

Now I had two eyebrows raised to that, because barangay events are normally not excessive to that point, nor as luxurious. Feeding hundreds of people means you have to employ practices that disregard fineness and quality, and only concerns getting food to the table and having enough so as not to be talked about the day after. Spending for hundreds of egg yolks is not economical, even downright laughable.

But she was talking to me. We were not going to cook for a barangay, and I was intrigued with the inordinate amount of egg yolks. I also wanted to know how so much yolk would taste and feel.

So I conceded, but I planned on making other desserts to serve, as I knew we won't have enough leche flan for everybody.


I talked about the endeavor to some friends who also cook, and they were worried the leche flan would turn out tough with all that yolk. So I told the househelp to add in whole eggs as she saw fit.

She ended up adding five whole eggs, or a ratio of one whole egg to six yolks, which wasn't really such a bad idea. The leche flan still turned out a bit tough, though, because she only used a can each of evaporated and condensed milk. The flans were also very thin, because she wanted to make six llaneras of leche flan, but there wasn't enough mixture to fill the containers, so it was apportioned to about an inch high of flan per llanera.

We had a total of seven llaneras of flan for the party. I ended up giving six of them to special guests as party favor, keeping one for the family. I was afraid to keep more - I imagined we'd all collapse from heart failure after eating it.

I think I've had enough of leche flan. For now.

Other Fiesta Fare
Lucban Miki
Poncia (Handaan or Party)
Igado
Papaitan/Kaldereta/Kilwain
Bibingkoy
Kundol
Moron
Pastillas de Leche
Palibit

Bioko

When a lad too much in a hurry to be a man embarks on an adult undertaking and fails, like courting a girl, perhaps, people remark "bubwit pa kasi," an expression that compares the lad to baby mice, which downplays the failure because of youth.

More often that not the bubwit gets contracted into bubut - "kasi bubut pa eh" - the Tagalog term for a budding, or immature, fruit.

These mangoes, though, aren't bubut, despite their size being comparable to bubwit. They are mature enough to be planted and bear fruit, even though they are dwarfed by the common Philippine carabao mango.


I am told these are called supsupin (that which is sucked) in Cavite, or supsup (suck/to suck) in other Tagalog-speaking areas. This is because with mangoes in this magnitude, you have no choice but to peel back the skin and suck on the pulp until you get to the seed, much as how we eat mangoes in Pangasinan.

Nonetheless, whatever the supsup mango variety's deficiency in mass it makes up for in intensity of sweetness. Just like other fruits, when the motto is the smaller, the tastier, the supsup's flavor is concentrated it's almost like eating pure honey.

In Pangasinan this variety is called bioko, or bioco, a term which we sometimes also use for other immature fruits. We don't call pubescent boys bioko, though, as it sounds a bit suggestive.

Bioko is not as commonly sold around the province as the other varieties, though. I've noticed the same in Metro Manila and other provinces. In Pangasinan there are many bioko buying stations, which then sell the fruits to exporters.

There is a bigger chance of developing rashes around the mouth from the toxic mango sap when eating bioko, primarily because it is sucked on. Nevertheless, itches and burns are minor things to suffer considering the force of flavor. And that's not a bubut thing.

Other Summer Fruits
Anonas/Guyabano
Lychees
Duhat
Aratiles
Avocado

Yellow Flood

I've been in high heavens for months now because mangoes - real good ones - have been flooding the markets with no signs of abating.

The price per kilo is not very stable, but at least it doesn't go beyond Php60. With some patience and a good nose for bargains, one can even find Php35-40/kilo ripe carabao mangoes in unlikely places - at the fruit section of SM Hypermarket at the Mall of Asia, for instance, where I rarely buy fruits and vegetables, or at a roving cart along Buendia in Makati City, below a train station, or at the temporary stalls at the back of the Cavite public market.

I'm guessing honey-fragrant, sun-warmed ones are selling for Php20 per kilo in Pangasinan. Such abundance induces a fever in me, and I rush to buy baskets of them (or more appropriately, by the kaing in Pangasinan) even if I have to shell more in Metro Manila and Cavite.

And I get calls once in a while - from friends, relatives, godfathers, wedding sponsors. They don't ask if I like to share their mango bounty. They just ask me to drop by and pick up my share.

These mangoes then proceed to envelop the house with their intoxicating smell, and we can't help but eat cold halved mangoes all day long, despite their wreaking havoc on the stomach of the toddler in the house. And those insufferable heat rashes at the back of the neck and scalp.

Nonetheless mangoes love to race against one another in ripening, so that no matter how much we eat we usually have more than enough ones past their prime (one mango gone to waste is more than enough for me!).

So in addition to eating them as they are, which for me is the best ever way to eat a ripe mango, we make other things where we can incorporate them. Making various kinds of merienda (snacks) is actually a must during summer when the kids are home day-long doing frenetic physical activities.


My mom always said happiness is eating ripe Pangasinan mangoes with suman and tsokolate (unprocessed hot chocolate drink) for breakfast. I found that combination a bit weird when I was a kid, but now I think it is the most divine thing to eat first thing in the morning.

But it is taxing to make suman during these hot months, so I substitute it with pancakes. Chocolate pancakes, because a hot chocolate drink is also unbearable even in the early hours of the day.

I just melt semi-sweet chocolate and mix with the pancake batter, or use a tablespoon of cocoa powder. The sweetness of ripe mangoes against the rich bittersweetness of chocolate is always a delightful pairing that I will never tire of.


One beloved summer treat of my childhood is ice candy - milky concoctions flavored with fruit that are poured into narrow bags of plastic and frozen. I have renewed ties with them this summer, for me and for my own kids, and we've been making lots of them, especially now that the heat has been terrible.

Any left-over fruit from breakfast is made into ice candy, and my son talks about selling them to his friends, but he never gets to because the things haven't even frozen before the kids start raiding the freezer.

The favorite, of course, is mango ice candy. For an even healthier treat, and because two kids have had fever (probably lagnat-laki) the past month, I mix the mangoes with yogurt and some vanilla-flavored milk, so our mango ice candies are even more delectable - they are almost like mango ice cream.

The mango-flavored yogurt made by Nestle and Hacienda Macalauan are both excellent and taste like real mangoes do, so I use these as well whenever I have a chance to go grocery-shopping.

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Mango-Yogurt Ice Candies

pulp from 2 pieces large ripe mangoes
325 mg yogurt (or 1 1/2 tubs)
1 cup milk (preferably vanilla-flavored, but any variant will do)
sugar to taste

ice candy bags

1. Mash the mango pulp, not too finely if you prefer a chunky ice candy.
2. Pour in the yogurt and milk and mix well.
3. If using regular (unflavored/unsweetened) yogurt/milk, mix in sugar and let sit for a few minutes for the sugar to melt. Mix again.
4. Pour into ice candy bags, taking care to let out any air before tying the ends tightly.
5. Freeze and enjoy.

Makes about 16 pieces 6-8 inch fat ice candies.

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Other Ways to Enjoy Ripe Mangoes
Simply Eating a Mango
Mango Shake
Green Mango Shake
Mango Sago
Chicken Fillet with Mangoes
Mango-Chocolate Float
Green Mango Adobo

Commercially Available Mango Products
Mango Layered Cheesecake
Red Ribbon's Mango Cake
Mango Charlotte
Mango Yogurt
Virgie's Mango Tartlets