LP 24: Loco Over Coco - The Round-up

We went crazy over coconuts last February for Lasang Pinoy!

As an event-ender, here is the round-up of entries for LP 24: Loco Over Coco : a sumptuous buffet of coconut-based dishes. We have a complete array of creations, from drinks, to traditional and inspired dishes, to fabulous desserts.

But before we take our fill, let us first, as an ice-breaker, get into a discussion about coconuts, which may be a strand of our DNA, according to first-time LP participant Kathleen, of Kathleenbell.com, Massachusetts, USA.

How about turning on Da Coconut Nut Song for our background music? Courtesy of our friends Maricar and Grace, also first-time LP contributors and who have previously done a whole series on coconuts at Filipina Soul, USA.

Then let’s take a tour of our very own Coconut Palace, which highlights the ingenious ways we can use the tree of life, with our tour guide Bursky, of At Wit’s End, Manila.


Ready for a toast to the coconut? Cheers!





Lambanog with Guava Juice

Paoix, One Filipino Dish A Week, NYC, USA






Let’s warm up then to the buffet. For starters, we have bread and soup.



Pan de Coco

Dhanggit, Dhanggit's Kitchen, Provence, France






Corn & Crab Soup

Gay, A Scientist in the Kitchen






Followed by two incredible salads, both by Marketman, of Market Manila, Manila.





Ubod and Parmesan Salad








Ubod Ensalada







Hope you didn’t fill yourselves to bursting yet, because we have just arrived to the main entrees. And first in line, no less, is the famous fiery dish, Bicol Express, with accompanying Laing. Both dishes in two variants!




Bicol Express

Franco, Mariko, Monchu, Table for Three, Please, Manila










Bicol Express

Robert, Filipino Food Lovers, Missouri, USA








Laing

Joey, 80 Breakfasts, Manila










Chard Laing

JMom, Cooked From The Heart, USA




Don’t like it hot? Try chopsuey with coconut meat.




Pinoy Buko Chopsuey

Ut-man, Overseas Pinoy Cooking, Abu Dhabi, UAE






Then we have seafood in coconut milk.



Catfish in Coconut Milk

JMom, Cooked From The Heart, USA





Shrimps in Coconut Milk and Tomato Sauce/Coconut Story of My Life

Mira, Random Thoughts, Mira's Web Journal, A Moment to Exhale, USA







Tuna in Coconut Cream

Shai Coggins, Creative Geek Living, Australia









Kona Kampachi With Coconut, Apples, Ginger and Basil

Cia, Writing With My Mouth Full










Ginataang Alimango

Anneski, Kitchen Conjugations, Philippines


Hope you left enough room for dessert. For we have incredibly marvelous ones!




Buko Halo

Grace, Kitchen Journal, Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia










Bucayo Squares, Almond BucaJoy

Oggi, I Can Do That!, VA, USA








Maja Blanca
Cooking with the Fruit of Life

Maricar, Grace, Filipina Soul, USA







Coconut Custard (Leche Flan with Coconut Milk)

Sassy Lawyer, Pinoy Cook, Manila









Favorite Ginataan

Nini, Pan de Panda, Manila








German Chocolate Cake

Simple Pleasures, Sweet Tooth , Manila











Tropical Bombe

Manggy, No Special Effects, Manila








Guintaan - a warm Pinoy dessert for the cool HongKong winter

Ragamuffin Girl, Food Frenzy, Hong Kong








Mini Coco Pies
13 & 1 Ways to Enjoy Coconut
Anatomy of a Disaster

Em Dy (first to submit, congrats!), Pulse, Manila









Buko Custard Pie

Babette (Kusinera sa Amerika), Not Another Blog, USA









Pastillas, my contribution to this month's Lasang Pinoy.







And that ends our amazing smorgasbord, hope it didn’t leave anyone wanting!

It had been an honor hosting this event and rounding up all your entries. My hats off to all of you, and as they say in Pinoy, thanks a lot, coconut!

LP 24: Loco Over Coco

Anywhere you go in the Philippines, from the lengthy coastal areas surrounding the more than 7,000 islands comprising the archipelago, to the inland valleys and rolling plains, up to the rugged mountain ranges, solitary hills and volcanoes rising up to the heavens that rig the land, the coconut tree is a ubiquitous presence.

So much so that in any place in the country, from Batanes to Tawi-Tawi, coconuts - that is to say, all the various parts of the coconut - figure in one way or another in the regional/ethno-linguistic cuisine.

So you have the fiery ginataan (savory dishes cooked in coconut cream) that is the distinctive feature of Bicol dishes, or the sweetish and garlicky lumpiang ubod that is the specialty of the Bacolold-Silay area, to name a couple of the more commonly known coconut-themed regional fare. How about grandmas imbibing tuba in the early morning southern sunshine?

But coconuts really do feature in the day-to-day lives of most Filipinos, and mostly in the ordinary, taken-for-granted ways that we almost forget how very tightly our diets (at least, in the pure Filipino sense) are entertwined and based on this tropical palm. We even have various terms for the coconut fruit depending on its level of maturity.


We slake our thirst on the refreshing coconut water, blend it into a cocktail, ferment it into natural vinegar, or take the fermentation a little further to turn it into an alcoholic drink.

We eat the meat straight from the shell, or toast it, or spoon it or break it into strips to mix in salads, or grate it to add flavor to any rice concoction, or sweeten it into macapuno to eat it on its own or again mixed in a fancy dessert.


Even coconut fruits past their prime are valued – they provide the cream in which anything fancied can be cooked, be it a savory or sweet dish. We also have bukayo - sweetened coconut - in all forms, color, texture and style, depending on the region. And of course, mature coconuts provide the meat from which santana, or coconut oil, is expressed. Did you know that coconut oil may yet be the healthiest oil in the world?

And if you think I have run out of edible parts of the coconut, wait just yet. We eat the trunk, too. Well, actually, it’s the young shoots of the tree, called ubod.

Strictly speaking, we are now past the edible parts, since we really don’t eat the next one, but the intricately woven wrapper in which suman, patopat, or puso are encased and steamed come from strips upon strips of young coconut leaves.

And in the rural areas, dried coconut husks are the preferred pang-uling – charcoal – for a proper grill. The "husky" ones, though, are used as floor polisher - the manual...errrr...the one-where-you-use-legs kind - kuskos, bunot - giving a good workout for the body and a shiny wooden floor for the house.

On top of this, the coconut is not called the tree of life solely on the basis of the food it provides. Because it also sustains life, by providing its durable trunk – to stand as the foundation of a small nipa hut, or to elevate a batalan in which food is prepared for a meal, and afterwards where the kitchen and dinner utensils are washed.

Essential components that sustain a family, helping turn a house into a home.

And the left-over spines of the leaves are gathered and bound to become walis ting-ting – brooms – to sweep away the camachile or banana peelings, and other litter on the floor or on the lawn. This last has even been transformed into a symbol of unity for the country – inspired by the Filipino proverb Matibay ang walis, sapagkat nabibigkis. Roughly translated, though a bit far-fetched,“there is strength in unity,” but that is the essence of it.

And so it is with this sense of unity – by the food that transcends time and boundaries – that I invite all Filipino bloggers across the country and all around the globe, as well as other bloggers and writers who have an affinity, nay, a passion, for Filipino food, to join the Lasang Pinoy community in celebrating the fruit of life and the tree from which it springs, for the 24th edition of Lasang Pinoy.

• Anytime during the month of February you can write about or feature a photo of anything that involves the coconut, cooked or uncooked, edible or inedible. You can write about a time-honored tradition, or create/invent a new one for the succeeding generations. You can write about the coconut’s presence in your life while growing up in the Philippines, or what it has meant for you living elsewhere. Maybe discuss how coconuts are treated in your host country, dwelling on its status as compared to how it is valued in the Philippines.


• As an added feature, I would like to request bloggers to list at the end of your post any previous post/s, if any, involving the coconut. I'm starting it right here - you can find a list of my previous posts that included coconuts at the end of this announcement. I'm making it easier - if you find you cannot come up with anything on coconuts for this month (which I dare say is impossible!), you can submit the list of previous posts as your entry.


• Non-bloggers are very much welcome – you can ask any of your favorite Pinoy blogger to host your article. Or you can email it to me at sweet(underscore)bucaio(at)yahoo(dot)com and I’ll be very glad to feature it, but just make sure to send it by February 22.


• Bloggers can post their entries anytime during the month of February (which includes any post before this announcement), then notify me about your posts via an email to sweet(underscore)bucaio(at)yahoo(dot)com with the subject LP24. A round-up of all posts to close the event shall be posted in this blog by the first week of March.

Please use this icon, courtesy of Mang Mike, to mark your post/s, or display it on your sidebar for the month. Please also link this announcement so that we can have maximum participation.

So let’s start using those coconuts!



My Previous Posts That Dwelt on Coconuts

• Using coconut meat

Bahay Pastulan's Buko Pie
Buko Salad
Intemtem/Tupig
Unda-Unday

• Using gata (coconut cream/milk)

Pinipig with Gata
Langka Suman
Inlubi with Toge
Masikoy
Katiba
Baked Buchi
Adobo sa Gata
Latik
Patang Curry

• Using coconut cookies

Langka Cheesecake

Pinipig

I got feedback from some of those who were able to watch the Undas episode of the television lifestyle show The Sweetlife, where I cooked the Pangasinan Undas rice delicacy inlubi, about a similar rice concoction that's also associated with the season.

Pinipig, young glutinous rice harvested prematurely, thus retaining its green color but comes out flat due to pounding (a process identical to the one undergone by deremen, without the burning stage) is a seasonal delicacy in the central plains of Luzon. I got feedback specifically from the provinces of Bulacan and Pampanga, where pinipig is harvested and eaten during Undas until the end of the year.

I was intrigued by this pinipig, because the only pinipig I know in my part of the country is the toasted rice kernels, crunchy like pop rice, white-to-beige in color and mixed in halo-halo. In Pampanga I heard that pinipig is eaten by the lolas as kutkutin or tsitsirya/chichirya. It is also made into biko and suman.

In Bulacan it is mixed with kakang gata (coconut cream), in some parts as thickener to the gata and drunk as juice, in some parts eaten with the consistency of champorado or oatmeal/porridge. The choice sweetener is slices of chico, which comes in season also from Undas onwards, and/or langka (jackfruit). Whatever is left over is cooked because it spoils easily.

It is also cooked in Bulacan into puto and pinipig bar.

I had the luck of being gifted with several kilos of sweet-smelling fresh pinipig from Bulacan, and of course I had to try the uncooked ginataang pinipig. Ginataang pinipig is a novelty for me, and I was warned that my stomach may not be agreeable to the raw gata. You have to grow up eating uncooked gata to develop the tolerance for it, I guess. For young Bulakenyos the gata is heated to avoid stomach trouble.

For my first taste of ginataang pinipig I used pure coconut cream - grated coconut machine-pressed without water, so that it comes out thick and lusciously creamy.

This snack is heavenly when drunk/eaten cold. You are hit by the creaminess of the gata, and then you crunch on the soft, fragrant pinipig and the sweet chico and langka to munch on.

Other variations include adding buco strips, and sugar if the chico/langka is not enough for one's sweet tooth.

Very simple and straightforward, just like any Filipino kakanin or rice delicacy. Yet there is complexity of tastes and flavors, representing what's in season.

Lasang Pinoy 22 for December, with the theme Rice to the Challenge is hosted by JMom over at Cooked from the Heart.

Misa De Gallo Treats: Langka Suman and Intemtem

[The Colors of Christmas]

Christmas can be one very big excuse for decadence, for indulging in your wildest imagination and actually translating it into reality. So cakes, salads, kakanin and all kinds of desserts are the order of the day, and several kinds on the table is not actually frowned upon, for once in my family, during this season.

The bacchanalia is not even limited to Christmas Eve, extending to Christmas Day itself. The season officially starts with the onset of Advent, as practiced in the Roman Catholic Church, right on the first Sunday after the feast of Christ the King.

It usually falls on the first Sunday of December, with the buzz increasing daily until it attains deafening proportion nine days before Christmas - when the Misa de Gallo starts.

Christmas Eve and Christmas Day feasts are big buffet spreads, encompassing all courses imaginable, with several kinds of each. Misa de Gallo treats are a different matter, though. For one, eating after each dawn mass is not considered a party. And second, you can only eat so much so early in the morning.

And so Misa de Gallo treats are light, pre-breakfast fare, usually finger food cooked right in front of the church or along the streets leading to or coming from it. Breakfast, perhaps heavy, celebratory ones, is reserved for later, when the sun has warmed the air, maybe after a short nap that brings on renewed energy for sitting down on the table.

Eating right after Misa de Gallo, just outside the church, while walking home, or inside the house while tea or coffe is brewing, is communion after mass. Communion with your companions, who may play a major part in your success in completing all the nine days. Also communion with the local culture, because Misa de Gallo treats usually adhere to tradition.

They may be as nondescript as pandesal peddled on horn-tooting bikes, still hot from the ovens, filled with margarine and sugar, or liver spread, or pastillas, or katiba (coco jam). Or as opulent as ensaymada warmed with butter. Or as rooted to the locale as bibingka, or puto bumbong, or intemtem (commonly known by the Ilocano term tupig). And any suman variant, a product of community effort and the focus of community partaking. These are traditionally downed with either tsokolate or salabat (hot ginger drink), to warm the throats and fight the cold.

Langka Suman

Ingredients
1 kilo malagkit (glutinous rice)
1 cup washed sugar
Kakang gata from 2 coconuts, about 4-5 cups
500 grams ripe langka (jackfruit)
young banana leaves for wrapping
pandan leaves, washed (optional)

1. Wash the rice and drain excess water. Transfer to a thick saucepan (kaldero), pour in the kakang gata and half the sugar. Mix thoroughly.
2. Cook until almost dry. Mix in the pandan leaves. Lower heat until gata has been thoroughly absorbed. Add more sugar if desired.
3. Wipe banana leaves clean, and run over fire. Spoon rice mixture onto spread banana leaves and shape into long rectangles. Insert langka as filling in the middle of rice mixture, then arrange slivers on top as decoration.
4. Close banana leaves in overlapping fashion, with ends folded onto the suman. Tie both ends with string.
5. Steam in a pan for 1-2 hours.

Makes about 25 pieces.

Notes:

• To make use of the santana (coco jam) that we made from the panutsa I bought in Naga, which has been sitting in the pantry for months, I swirled it into the suman and did away with the sugar.
• Would have loved to include ube as filling, but the family has been fighting over it that I thought it wise to just let them have the haleya as it is.
• Langka is back in the market so it is the perfect time to use it. Don't use the overripe fruit, though, as it will spoil the suman in no time at all. One way of extending the shelf life is boiling the langka in a little water and some sugar before using as filling.
• Other fillings aside from langka and ube - ripe mangoes (now in season!), sweetened ripe saba, katiba, chocolate, peanut butter (yum!), cashew butter.
• I didn't have any use for the 2nd gata so I used it to boil in the wrapped suman instead of water. This made the wrappings greasy and the unwrapping of the suman a messy affair. But the smell is heavenly.

Intemtem, or tupig in Ilocano, is the ultimate Misa de Gallo treat in Pangasinan. It is more popular than our version of the bibingka, which is in mini sizes and made of rice. Of course it is available year-round, after Sunday masses, but there's nothing like the smell of grilled banana leaves mixing in with the cold dawn air after Misa de Gallo. And the experience of unrolling the wrap and biting into the still hot treat redolent with buco strips while walking home in the silent streets, the world still to wake, and the prospect of burrowing back under the covers after eating, is just unforgettable.

Living away from the province is no excuse for me to miss that experience again. So I relived cooking and eating intemtem right in Cavite, using the economical QB Stove charcoal grill (no way was I going to cook intemtem over an electric grill).

Intemtem

Ingredients
1 kg malagkit (glutinous rice)
strips of meat from 2 buco
1 cup sugar
banana leaves for wrapping

1. Soak rice in water for at least an hour. Drain, and ground-dry. The rice dough should be the consistency of mixture used for bilo-bilo.
2. Mix buco trips and sugar into the rice dough.
3. Wipe banana leaves clean, and run over fire. Cut into about 8x8 pieces.
4. Spread the rice mixture thinly onto the edge of each banana leaf wrap, then roll the leaf onto itself.
5. Grill, preferably on a thin aluminum steel sheet over live coals, until the intemtem has turned golden brown.

Serve warm. Makes about 30 pieces.

Lasang Pinoy 22 for December, with the theme Rice to the Challenge is hosted by JMom over at Cooked from the Heart.

LP22: Buro

[Buro'n Gourami]

Buro is freshwater fish fermented in salt and ba-aw (ba-ao, bahaw, steamed rice). It is the foulest smelling edible thing in all the whole wide world, but ironically, it is eaten as an appetizer.

Buro is actually a means of preserving seasonal freshwater fish from the times when electricity has not been invented. The prized fish dalag (mudfish), which comes out of hibernation during the rainy season, is salted and fermented with salted cooked rice to preserve the surplus. So are the native tilapia - small, thin and black - and the rare gourami, which burrow in mud during the dry spell.

These are still the preferred fish to be fermented in a buro today, still as a means of preserving, but more as a way of keeping on with tradition. Nowadays it has actually attained the status of a native delicacy. The buro'n tilapia and gourami are the more common, with the buro'n dalag - since the fish is more rare, the flesh more tasty - commanding about Php250/kg.

I know buro is eaten in other places in the country, like burong talangka (salted fermented mud crabs) in Bulacan, burong hipon (small shrimps fermented in rice) in Pampanga, burong mustasa (salted mustard leaves in water) in Cavite, plus we also have burong mangga (salted unripe mangoes in water) in Pangasinan.

In Pangasinan, though, when you speak of buro - without any qualifier - you refer to the fish fermented with rice. The tang and fermented taste of buro is much, much more pronounced than any other buro outside the province. It is as sour as any spoiled food if you have ventured to eat some (I haven't, but I eat buro).

It is actually indescribable, and those who did not grow up with buro being served on the table will be really turned off by the smell alone. When I was a kid I could not tolerate it on the table if it were placed in front of me. But you get used to it, and once your tastebuds have desensitized a little, you will find that because you're eating it, it will propel you to eat a lot more than what you usually do.

I find this to be the greatest irony of all.

The process of fermentation is pretty straight forward - de-scale, de-gut and clean the fish, rub with sea salt, then mix with cooled steamed rice also mixed with salt. Store, preferably in a covered banga (clay pot) although nowadays it is kept in a plastic container. In three days the buro has fermented well enough to be eaten.

When in season, unripe, julienned labong is topped on the buro before it is fermented.

To tame the taste a little, fresh buro is sauteed with lots of peeled, thinly sliced ginger root and tomatoes. This somewhat defeats the idea of buro, because the tomatoes will shorten the buro's shelf life. But the sauteeing adds to the appeal of buro, enriching the flavors.

Buro is not eaten as an appetizer per se, but small amounts - pea-sized - is eaten along with every spoonful of the meal. It pairs excellently with any native viand and vegetable dish - usually fried or grilled fish, pakbet and dishes cooked in bagoong.

They say that not everybody can make buro - and I agree. Despite the small number of ingredients and the simplicity of the process, not all buro made come out the same.

I have smelled, and not eaten, the buro made by a grand-aunt, who had been the subject of so many grand green jokes and snickers from many of her housemates because of the smell of her buro. It had been called not just ma-anglit, but also ma-ampap. I am not going to translate what these two words mean for purposes of, uhm, sensitivity? delicacy? (let's just say I don't want to offend anybody's sensibilities). But if you're not from the province go ask your Pangasinense friends. You will get my drift.

Lasang Pinoy 22 for December, with the theme Rice to the Challenge is hosted by JMom over at Cooked from the Heart.



Rice to the Challenge is a Lasang Pinoy event celebrating rice as used in Philippine cuisine.



Other delicacies featured in this blog that use rice:
Pinipig
Langka Suman and Intemtem
Inlubi with Toge
Masikoy
Halaan Arroz Caldo
Pinoy Paella
Unda-Unday
Inkaldit
Arroz Tres Leches
Baked Buchi
Inlubi
Calasiao Puto
Latik

Saluyot tan Labong

[Saluyot at labong/jute leaves and bamboo shoots]

I have seen and eaten labong cooked in various ways across the country, in Chinese restaurants and in a fresh salad recipe using canned bamboo shoots. But this is the most common, and probably the most popular - and easiest - way to eat labong in Pangasinan. Boiled with saluyot tops (young jute leaves) and sinagsagan with inasin (bagoong isda). It is probably the healthiest among all options, because it doesn't contain any saturated/trans-fat, whether of the proven or debated kind, and the dish' nutritive value is magnified by the addition of the miracle, organic vegetable saluyot.

To cook, just bring to a boil a pan of water with several slices of peeled ginger. Never, ever julienne the ginger root, as my yaya is wont to do, because it would easily be mistaken for labong, especially when using the pre-boiled one. A thumb-sized ginger, peeled and crushed with the back of an aklo (sandok, wooden rice ladle) will do. Once the water is merrily boiling, put in a small bowl a couple spoonfuls of inasin. Get a long-handled ladle and pour a ladle-full of boiling water into the inasin bowl. Using the ladle edge, crush the fish in the inasin with downward strokes. Pour into the pan, straining the inasin. Repeat until the fishbones have been finely crushed. Add the labong and let boil for a few minutes, then add the saluyot and cook for about 10 minutes, covered, on medium heat.

The inasin reacts somehow with the labong, and the resulting dish acquires a very distinctive flavor, an acquired taste for some, especially for those who did not grow up eating this combination. A Pangasinense cook who maintains an eatery in Pampanga has successfully gone around this probable hindrance to the enjoyment of the dish by doing away with the inasin. He just sautees the saluyot at labong with a little pork and some tiny shrimps, recreating it into something more tolerable for non-kabaleyans. It tasted ok to my Pangasinense tastebuds, too, and it has become an alternative option whenever we run out of Pangasinan bagoong in Cavite.

When I got married, I started eating labong tan saluyot soured with pias (kamias/kalamias, Averrhoa bilimbi), which is how the vegetable dish is cooked in my husband's house. It's cooked the same as the foregoing, but pias is added the same time as the ginger. It tastes not much different from the regular saluyot tan labong, but the sourness of the pias somehow foils the saltiness of the inasin, which is heightened because not much green vegetable absorbs it. It actually completes the dish, the flavors all rounded up, although of course I never noticed anything lacking before.

I have come to love the taste of pias in my saluyot tan labong that I want a bowlfull of them added to the dish. Good thing there are two pias trees at my in-laws' backyard, and it is commonly available in the public markets, too. As long as labong is available (peak season is during the rainy months, but it can be procured the rest of the year, albeit rarely) saluyot tan labong, with pias, is cooked and eaten weekly at home. It serves to ground my children to their Pangasinan roots, as well as providing us complete nutrition for the day, with added anti-oxidants, to boot.

Saluyot tan labong is best eaten with inkalot a bangos, and acquires a heavenly turn when the fatty head of that grilled milkfish is added towards the end of the cooking process as sahog.

In fact, saluyot tan labong flavored with grilled bangus head is simply divine that I think it is worth serving in a royal court. And since it is a purely Pangasinan dish, if ever, in my other life, I had been the aliping namamahay in the court of the famed Pangasinense, Princess Urduja, I would have wanted to cook this for her. To fortify her during the battles defending the kingdom, and to keep her skin smooth and preserve her beauty to ensure that it attains legendary status. It would also serve as a reminder as to how hardy yet adaptable we are as a people, like the labong, when it grows into bamboo, which sways with the wind that's why it doesn't break, even with the strongest Filipino bagyo (typhoon/tropical storm).

Of course I won't dare admit I would have wanted to be Princess Urduja herself in my other life, but I can imagine. And I imagine I would want to eat saluyot tan labong, everyday. With pias.

Lasang Pinoy 21, Anniversary Edition

More dishes for heroes in the round-up of entries for LP21!

---

What is labong?

Other ways to eat labong

• With chicken in soup
• On buro
• Labong Atsara

Labong in Cagayan Valley

Kasilyo

[Cavite kesong puti/water buffalo white cheese]

I am thankful for the commissary and exchange just across where I and the family now live - it is subsidized - all items are tax-free. That means a lot when you have kids, and the price difference in milk fomulas can reach up to Php100 per can.

However, the commissary is a big study in paradox - it is stocked with olive oil, sesame oil, and all kinds of cooking oils. But it carries only Hunt's tomato and spaghetti sauces, there is only one kind of pasta - Fiesta spaghetti - and to my horror, there is no butter, and the cheese shelf contains only Eden and Quezo processed cheeses. A quick tour of other grocery stores downtown yielded the same type of cheeses, and the nearest supermarket is an hour away.

Good thing I discovered, quickly, since I am a purveyor of bakeries, kasilyo. It is Cavite City's local fresh cheese - kesong puti - made from carabao's milk, in thin squares wrapped in banana leaves. I've had kesong puti before I came to live in Cavite, but those were mainly bought from supermarkets at hefty prices, were almost always too salty, and not very fresh.

Kasilyo is made fresh daily in Cavite City, available all throughout the morning, starting with the fresh batch of pandesal. Pandesal with kasilyo is the Cavitenos' favorite breakfast fare - it's heavenly with a steaming cup of thick tsokolate - that it is common to find kasilyo in bakeries all ready to go with your morning order.

And because I believe in the saying that "When in Rome.....", in this case, in a home not quite my own, I find myself buying kasilyo every morning to go with my pandesal. I eat it with a pat of salted butter melted by five minutes' toasting, open-faced. Or with my favorite fruit jam - the kasilyo is the perfect foil for the cloying sweetness.

Kasilyo is delicately soft and creamy, with mild sour notes that are barely noticeable, no hint of salt, fragrant from the banana leaf wrapping. Making kasilyo is actually a way to preserve excess carabao milk, which lasts only a day, even when chilled. Kasilyo can stay fresh up to a week inside the refrigerator. I'm in awe, though, about the volume of carabao milk that churns up the kasilyo, since I see no ricefields in the city, only marshes and ponds and bays hoarding mussels and clams.

Kasilyo makers at the public wet market tell me the Cavite kesong puti is made only with vinegar, whereas the kesong puti from Laguna and Quezon are made with rennet (the acid inside a goat's or calf's stomach) and/or vinegar, always with salt. The way they described the process made it sound easy - just add the carabao milk to boiling water with vinegar - but I haven't tried making it yet. I don't wake up that early to catch the fresh bottles of carabao milk.

But I am enjoying bought kasilyo to the hilt. Besides being a part of my morning fare, I incorporate it into a lot of dishes. It is the perfect local, fresh substitute to mozzarella - so my baked macaroni, lasagna and pizzas are now Filipinized - they are now Cabitenya. Kasilyo is also excellent for baked tahong. Fresh Cavite mussels topped with a mixture of butter, crushed garlic, salt, pepper and kasilyo and baked til bubbly - a purely Cabitenya dish I can now enjoy anytime.

Cooking with kasilyo - Baked Tahong
Related Posts
Bibingkoy
Robinson's Tamales


Lasang Pinoy 20, Binalot, All Wrapped Up! is hosted by The Unofficial Cook.

LP 19: Igado

[Pork internal organs stewed in vinegar]

Fiesta was not given much weight in our house. Let me add that I think it was given the same treatment elsewhere in poblacion, where our house was located. This is probably because there was not much community spirit, relative to the barrios.

We celebrated fiestas by joining the parade, or watching it, and attending the nightly baile in the town auditorium, again either as spectators or as active participants to the dances. But participation is rare – it was more fun to watch the politicians, those who wielded influence in the town, and the wealthy, cavort to the beat of the chacha or the tango as dished out by two live “orchestras.” Nowadays probably these are interspersed with Itaktak Mo. Midnight marks the end of the baile and the beginning of the annual beauty pageant.

Fiestas are also the time for the archbishop to confirm Catholic baptisms. Which gives more reason for a cooking frenzy, though confirmations are not celebrated as much as baptisms are.

We kids in the house having been confirmed right after our baptisms, our mom didn’t see any reason to be on a fiesta mood during fiestas. She just prepared some, for those who got tired and hungry after the rides in the plaza, or for those who wanted to join the dance and watch the beauty contest. But we didn’t receive that many visitors, anyway.

But both my parents grew up in the barrios, and my mom never missed a fiesta in Don Pedro, sometimes to the chagrin of my dad. It was the opportunity for her to catch up on the lives of her relatives. I always tagged along, until I was old enough to join the dances held on empty lots with dirt-packed floors. But that was not the reason I asked my mom to take me.

It was because my uncles cooked the best igado. My uncles’ take on meat dishes during big celebrations have become my standards. My uncles have always been the better cook as long as I can remember. Anyway, killing a pig and cooking the different parts into different dishes requires bayanihan – involving several families, which we did not have in the poblacion.

I have attended fiestas in different parts of the country, and in all of them it always involved a pig slaughter. This is actually practical, because with a whole pig a family can feed visitors for days, especially those with visiting big clans.

Various dishes can be created from a single pig, utilizing all the parts – the meat for embutido (ground pork meat roll), the belly and tail for adobo (vinegar stew) and giniling (sauteed ground pork), other fatty parts and liver for menudo (diced meat and liver in tomato sauce), the head for dinakdakan (grilled ears and snout mixed with pig brains), the thighs and legs for crispy pata, the lungs and heart for bopis (lung stew), the internal organs for igado, etc.

For me, these dishes may look different, and are called differently, but they taste all the same. Except for the igado. What sets the igado apart is the flavor imparted by the internal organs – the altey (liver), the pait (intestines), the kidney, all stewed together in vinegar with laurel and peppercorns. Very little or no meat flesh at all is included in the dish, which somehow makes the igado taste not as porky a dish as the others. The distinctive vinegar taste also sets the dish apart further. It is not makatama, or nakakaumay.

I have also been fascinated by the preparation of this dish. Not the cooking itself, but the cleaning of the organs after the slaughter. The long, long pig intestines are turned inside out – binaliktad – to wash out its contents, cupping and pressing with your hands the inside lining and running them from one end to another several times, frequently dousing with hot water. I can’t remember if my uncles used soap, but maybe I don’t need to know.

Then at dawn, the barrio is awakened, not by the tolling of chapel bells, but by the constant hammering of bolos and knives on thick wooden planks, chopping the ingredients of the day’s porky meals.

I’ve mentioned before that I don’t eat pork on a regular basis, and try to avoid it if possible. There are only two exceptions to this – when the pork is cooked with pancit, and if it is igado.

I live far away from my uncles now, and going home during fiestas has become impossible. I’ve searched far and wide for the dish that best approximates my uncles’ igado. For a time I lived in La Union where my husband used to work, but I was disappointed to find out that igado in that Ilocano province is cooked with tomato sauce.

It’s ironic, but the only igado that surpassed my uncles’ is one that was cooked by Tito Don Manuel, an Ilocano expat then living in Jerusalem. I was with friends – we were mostly just kids then – and it was the first foreign travel for most. Tito Don prepared a Filipino fiesta for us. Perhaps the poignancy of the moment added to the memory of that gathering. The aroma of vinegar, soy sauce, laurel, pepper and pork liver perfectly blending in the stew, and the smell of pandan-infused steamed rice – they sustained me during the 1 ½ months I was out of the country, away from my family and all things familiar and comforting.

And here is my igado, the version of an uprooted Pangasinense who cannot attend fiestas at home.


Igado

½ kilo pig intestine, cleaned previously
¼ kilo pork liver
¼ kilo pork meat
1 big onion, sliced
1 head garlic, peeled and crushed finely
1 big onion, chopped finely
1 small red pepper, sliced thinly
5 dried laurel leaves
10 pieces whole peppercorns
½ cup vinegar, more or less
3 cups water
a few drops of soy sauce for color/annatto (achuete) seeds
cooking oil
a pinch of salt

1. Wash the intestines, liver and meat. Boil in a pan of water with sliced onions.
2. Throw away the water and repeat if the meats still smell.
3. Chop the intestines, liver and meat into inch-long slices.
4. Saute garlic and onions in oil. Add the red pepper when the onion has turned transparent. Cook for a minute.
5. Add the meats, stirring until well-blended.
6. Add the vinegar, laurel and peppercorns, cover and let boil without stirring for about 20 minutes.
7. Pour in the water, and add the soy sauce or annatto water, and let boil covered until the meats are tender.
8. Season with salt to taste.

Notes:

• This recipe is good for 6-8 persons. Half a kilo of intestine is about half of the entire thing, but at the wet market they usually sell the whole thing wholesale.
• Like any stew with vinegar, igado tastes even better reheated the next day, so if you get the entire length of the pig intestine and you are not cooking for a fiesta, you can always serve the left-overs the day after, or the next. Or freeze what can't be consumed.
• If it is impossible to turn the intestines inside out, you can cut it lengthwise to open it up. Brush the inside lining thoroughly and rinse with hot water.
• If using annatto or achuete seeds, steep a handful in half a cup of hot water, then strain the dyed liquid into the cooking meats after the vinegar has cooked.
• When the meats are soft and tender, you can let it cook until the water dries up, or until there is just enough sauce. I love a little sauce made thick by the liver on my igado, to spoon on steaming rice.

A Lasang Pinoy 19 entry.

A Lasang Pinoy event.

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LP9: Inselar a Bangos

[Sinigang na bangus, milkfish in soured broth]

The theme for Lasang Pinoy 9 for the month of April, hosted by Cia, is Lamang-loob: Odd Cuts and Guts, lamang-loob being offal, the internal organs of your preferred animal.

I dare say Filipino cuisine is indeed redolent with dishes containing lamang loob. This is related to Filipinos being very economical. Once an animal is slaughtered (for family consumption purposes, which happen during fiestas and family events), all parts and pieces are utilized, not a single part goes to waste.

So we have such Filipino mainstays as papaítan (thin slices of goat innards cooked in calamansi juice and bile), igadó (chopped pig intestines cooked in vinegar and soy sauce), bópis (minced pig lungs cooked in spiced vinegar), sísig (pan-fried chopped pig ears and chicken liver), dinakdákan (boiled and grilled pig ears and brain), even karé-karé (oxtail and tripe in peanut sauce and fermented shrimp fry) and adóbo of chicken liver and gizzard.

And we also have tomato stews with Spanish influences, like menúdo (pork meat and liver), callos (tripe), lengua (ox tongue). I've cooked some of these, ironically the Filipino ones I haven't, though I've watched countless washings of intestines in our backyard. Preparation and cooking are usually undertaken by male cooks, and I leave it at that. Especially since I fear buying innards in the market.

And so my contribution to LP9 is quite a common dish in Pangasinan, albeit probably unknown outside the province. It is siningang na bangós, with all the fish innards (except the gills and bile) thrown in the soup for flavor.

Bonuan bangós (milkfish coming from ponds cultivated in the coastal barrio of Bonuan in Dagupan City) has quite a legendary status in Pangasinan, and such worship is entirely deserving. No other bangós, whether cultivated in the province or elsewhere, tastes like it.

True to its name, the flesh is milky and sweetish, the fat in the belly inducing nirvana. There are less bones and those pesky thread-like spines, and there is never a fishy hint in taste. Like eating pure cream in the form of soft fish flesh.

Of course it follows that the innards of the bangós are as milky and as fresh-tasting as well. Pangasinenses and Ilocanos have a habit of flavoring soups (including tinóla) with bagóong (salted, fermented anchovies). In a sinigáng, the bangós innards take the place of the bagóong, and you have a very flavorful, quite tasty soup. Even insęlar a oráng (sinigang na hipon or shrimp in soured soup) uses bangós innards for flavor.

Restaurants along the beaches in Dagupan City cook sinigáng this way, particularly the famous Matutina chain of Pangasinan seafood casual dining.

To cook, fresh Bonuan bangós is sliced and put in a simmering pot of water flavored with a peeled ginger the size of your thumb, chopped tomatoes, sliced onions, salt and the innards, and calamansi juice (optional). When the fish flesh has turned opaque, add some kamote tops and continue cooking till the leaves are tender. Do not overcook so the fat will not disintegrate (very important!).

May I just add a note that it is critical to use fresh bangós, preferably newly harvested, and cook straight from the wet market. Never use previously frozen fish. If you only have access to the latter, it may be prudent to discard the innards.

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Matutina's

• (Annex 1, 2, 3, 4)
  Bonuan Blue Beach
  Bonuan, Dagupan City
• MacArthur Highway
  Urdaneta City

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