Burnt Lumpia

Champorado: Breakfast of Champions

2009-11-08T19:05:50-08:00

Filipinos have been enjoying chocolate cereal long before the likes of Cocoa Puffs, Cocoa Pebbles, Cocoa Crisp, Count Chocula, or Chocolate Frosted Frosty Krusty Flakes (Only sugar has more sugar!) ever entered the sweet-toothed maws of hungry children. Although these factory-produced, mass-marketed, sugar-filled cereals are fine and dandy for breakfast (I've enjoyed many of them), they lack the rustic homemade charm, and overall stick-to-yo-ribs-ness, of Filipino Champorado.

Champorado may perhaps be the original chocolate cereal as it is quite literally a "chocolate cereal"--it's made from chocolate tablea and cereal grains in the form of sweet sticky rice. Put more simply though, Champorado can best be described as a sort of chocolate rice porridge. Or perhaps it can be likened to a warm bowl of oatmeal crossed with a chocolate bar--only better. Way better.

Champorado: The OG Chocolate Cereal

To the uninitiated, chocolate and rice may seem to be strange breakfastmates. And there was a time when I too thought the choco/rice combo to be strange. I have this vague childhood memory of my maternal grandfather fixing his breakfast by sprinkling cocoa powder on day-old steamed rice. At the time, I had no idea what Champorado was, so I just thought my grandpa was being weird.

Little did I know that my grandfather was simply longing for something Champorado-esque. And since our household woefully lacked any actual Champorado ingredients (chocolate tablea and sweet sticky rice), my grandfather MacGuyvered a quick facsimile with whatever he could find in our kitchen (cocoa powder and leftover rice).

Although there now exist "instant" brands of boxed Champorado (just add hot water and voila!), it's always best to make a batch from scratch. Thankfully, after recently discovering the joys of Filipino chocolate Tablea, I don't have to resort to the instant stuff, and I don't even have to jerry-rig another version like my grandfather did--my own cupboards now have the proper supplies for a proper bowl of warm Champorado.

What's in a proper bowl of warm Champorado you ask? Well for starters, chocolate in the form of tablea. As I mentioned in my last post, tablea are nothing more than chocolate tablets made from pure cacao nibs that are roasted, ground, and then mixed with a bit of sugar.

Aside from the chocolate tablea, the rice used in Champorado must be sweet sticky rice--AKA glutinous rice. Sweet sticky rice is a type of short grain rice that is, yes, sweet and sticky when cooked--it's also the stuff used for Suman sa Gata. Sweet sticky rice can be found at Asian markets, often labeled as "Malagkit" (the rice, not the market). "Malagkit" is just the Filipino term for, yes, sweet sticky rice.

Although chocolate and rice are key ingredients in Champorado, just as important is the type of milk in which to cook the sticky rice. Fresh milk can definitely be used. But since fresh milk was not always readily available in the Philippines, canned evaporated milk, and even sweetened condensed milk, are the norm for Champorado. I actually like to use a combination of canned evaporated and coconut milk for a bit more flavor and depth. A little drizzle of the milk of your choice atop the finished Champorado makes things a bit more nummy nummy as well.

Eat like a champion today.

Finally, you can sweeten your Champorado with sugar if you wish, though depending on how much sugar is in your particular tablea, and if you happen to use sweetened condensed milk, the Champorado may be sweet enough.

While a steaming bowl of chocolate and rice may seem filling enough to start anyone's day, Filipinos like to pair Champorado with dried salted fish (tuyo) on the side for a salty counterpoint to the sweet chocolate. I do love all sorts of tuyo, but I think a good salty beef tapa is a good way to go with Champorado as well. Mmmm. Chocolate rice porridge and dried salty fish/meat, now that's a breakfast!

Homemade Champorado: Filipino Chocolate Rice Porridge

Serves 2-4

1/2 cup Malagkit (sweet sticky rice), rinsed and drained
1 cup evaporated milk, plus more if needed
1 cup coconut milk, plus more if needed
4 chocolate tablea, crushed
Sugar, to taste

Combine all the ingredients in a small saucepan and bring to a simmer, stirring every now and then to incorporate chocolate and to prevent rice from sticking to pot. Once simmering, reduce heat to low and continue stirring until rice is soft. If all the liquid has been absorbed, and the rice is still too hard, add more evaporated milk or coconut milk as needed until rice is cooked through and until the desired consistency is reached--I don't like mine too soupy, so I go for a semi-thick oatmeal consistency.

Taste the Champorado for sweetness, and add sugar if needed. Serve in small bowls, and drizzle more coconut milk over the Champorado. Serve with dried salted fish, or with beef tapa.

Chocolaty till the last drop.

Tsokolate: Filipino Hot Chocolate

2009-10-25T17:29:13-07:00

Although cacao trees flourish in the tropical climes of the Philippines, chocolate is not indigenous to the islands. In fact, like a few other Filipino foods, chocolate was introduced to the Philippines by Spain via Mexico (the cacao tree IS indigenous to parts of Central and South America).

In fact, according to many historical accounts, the ancient Mayans are credited with the invention of hot chocolate. Originally, the Mayans simply ground native cacao beans and spices into a paste, and then frothed the mixture into water and served this concoction hot. Soon, the Aztecs were introduced to cacao beans and made a similar chocolate brew of their own--though it was a cold drink that was served during religious ceremonies and human sacrifices (oh, those crazy Aztecs).

Then one day, some Spanish dude named Cortez arrived in Mexico and was peacefully received by Aztec emperor Montezuma. As the story goes, Montezuma presented Cortez with a frothy cup of chocolate out of simple good will. In return, Cortez wiped out the entire Aztec civilization (oh, those crazy Spaniards).

Finally, to make a long story a little bit less long, about a hundred (give or take) years later the Spanish took the cacao trees (as well as the Mexican custom of drinking chocolate) from their Mexican colony and introduced it to their Philippine colony. Thus, Filipinos started growing their own cacao trees, and then making and drinking their own form of hot chocolate known as Tsokolate.

Tsokolate is made from chocolate discs, or tablets, known as Tablea. Tablea are made from pure cacao nibs that are roasted, ground, and then mixed with a bit of sugar. And depending on the region of the Philippines, some ground peanuts may also be added to the tablea.

Tablea for two.

Here in the States, Tablea can be easily found at Filipino markets. But if you still can't find a source for Filipino chocolate, Mexican chocolate tablets found at Latin markets will also do in a pinch.

To make Filipino Tsokolate, a tablea or two is dissolved in some hot water and then mixed and frothed with a wooden whisk called a Batidor (Mexicans call the same tool a Molinillo). For an in-depth look at Batidors, see this post on Market Manila.

If you don't have a Batidor, a regular whisk works just fine for making Tsokolate--though I myself prefer the horsepower of my handy-dandy stick blender.

Stick Blender = Modern Day Batidor

After frothing the tablea and water, the resultant mix is a thick and rich drink of nutty and gritty hot chocolate.

Although Tsokolate is delicious and perfect on its own, it can be jazzed up a bit. For starters, you can use milk instead of water for an even creamier brew. You can also add a pinch of cayenne or chili powder for a more Mexican spin, and if you're so inclined, a dribble of vanilla extract is also a welcome addition. If you really want to put your fancy pants on, a cinnamon stick makes for a snazzy stirring rod.

To pick up your morning pick-up, dissolving a tablea or two in a hot cup of coffee makes for a wonderful Pinoy mocha, especially if made with Filipino Barako coffee beans.

Filipino chocolate mocha.

And aside from coffee, I've found that Tsokolate can be adjusted even more to the adult palate by adding a little booze. Lately, I've become accustomed to icing down my Tsokolate, and then adding some vodka and Kahlua for my take on a White Russian cocktail: The Filipino Russian.

Hey, careful man! There's a beverage here!

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I've managed to yet again turn an innocent drink into a cocktail--though it be a wonderfully chocolaty and creamy cocktail at that.

In spite of my own tweaks and adaptations to Filipino Tsokolate, it's still amazing to look back at how a hot chocolate drink in South America ended up as a wholly different hot chocolate drink in the Philippines. Tsokolate is a thick and rich drink of wonderfully gritty and bittersweet chocolate--a nutty concoction that was sorely missing from my nutty childhood.

As a youngster, when I wasn't zapping gummy bears in the microwave (a mesmerizing exercise for a young boy), I was often nuking mugfuls of milk with which to make hot chocolate. I then fortified this microwaved mug o'milk with a few spoonfuls of instant cocoa powder. Most often, this magical mix of "chocolate" came in the form of Nestle Quik, but sometimes it was Hershey's, and a few other times Ovaltine even made a cocoa cameo at our household.

Ah, A Christmas Story. It's a classic.

Anyways, despite the seemingly rich array of cocoa goodness available to me as a wee lad, I now know that none of those powdered potables can hold a candle to Filipino Tsokolate.

BESURETODRINKYOURTSOKOLATE.

I suspect that had I been raised on the more flavorful and pungent brew of Filipino hot chocolate, I might have grown up to be a cage fighter, or a zombie hunter, or perhaps a ninja assassin. At the very least, I'd have more hair on my chest--Tsokolate is just that gritty and bitter, but deliciously so.

Tsokolate: Filipino Hot Chocolate

Makes 1 serving

1-2 Filipino chocolate tableas (Found at Filipino markets)
1 cup hot water or milk

In a small bowl, combine the tablea and water (the more tableas you use, the thicker and richer the drink). Using a whisk or stick blender, mix until the chocolate has dissolved and the liquid becomes thick and frothy. Pour the Tsokolate into a mug and enjoy.

To make a Filipino mocha, simply mix tablea with a cup of hot coffee.

Filipino Russian

Makes 1 serving

2 ounces vodka
1 ounce Kahlua
2 ounces cold Tsokolate (preferably made with milk)

Pour all ingredients into an ice-filled shaker, shake well to combine, then strain into an ice-filled old-fashioned glass. Cheers.

How to Torture Eggplant OR How to Make Tortang Talong

2009-10-13T19:32:47-07:00

I don't eat many vegetables. So, by default, I sure as heck don't eat much eggplant. Of course, dishes like Eggplant Parmesan may prove tantalizing to some, but I find such preparations do more to hide, rather than enhance, eggplant's true nutty and smoky flavors.

Luckily, the Filipino dish known as Tortang Talong indeed takes advantage of the purple nightshade's flavors and textures--and it's a dish that I happen to love.

Tortang Talong can be roughly translated to mean "Tortured Eggplant" (that isn't actually true, but it sounds cool don't it?). In fact, whenever an innocent eggplant falls into my clutches, I like to go medieval on its proverbial ass. That's right. Nothing brings the best out of eggplant better than good ol' ridicule, humiliation, and physical abuse. Step into my culinary dungeon, won't ye?

To make Tortang Talong, I begin with an everyday, mild-mannered eggplant. Then, after laughing maniacally in it's face, I dunk the eggplant's stem end, or head, into some water for about 10 minutes--or up to 30 minutes if I'm feeling especially deranged that day. Soaking the eggplant's stem in water will keep the stem from burning off in the next tortuous step--burnin' its skin somethin' terrible!

There are a variety of ways in which to char and burn an eggplant. You can use a blowtorch, or you can stick the eggplant directly under the broiler. But I like to place the eggplant across the grates of a hot grill--just long enough so that the eggplant's purple hue turns into a hellish black, and its insides become soft, but not quite mushy.

Charred, I'm sure.

While grilling an eggplant leads to the utmost in smokiness, placing eggplant directly on a stove burner and turning with tongs can be just as satisfying. The stovetop method works especially well for smaller eggplants such as the Indian variety. Again, you only want to place an eggplant on the stove burner just long enough so that the skin chars, and the insides soften a bit.

Sadly, "Baba Ganoush" was not the correct safe word
for these lil' eggplants.

After the skin has been properly charred on the eggplant, set the poor soul aside for a few minutes. This rest period is essential for the eggplant to plan his escape and avoid further punishment. Alas, this is only a ploy for false hope. Really, the rest period is for the sole purpose of allowing the eggplant to cool to the touch--so that you can then rip it's skin off! Mwahahaha!

Go ahead, skin it!
Skin that smokewagon and see what happens!

Once the burned skin is picked from the eggplant's steaming carcass, the eggplant must then be mooshed and flattened. When mooshing and flattening helpless objects, I usually turn to a baseball bat studded with rusty nails, or even a sweet pair of nunchucks. But in this particular case, a fork works pretty well.

Forked.

Although flattening the flesh of the eggplant can be quite fun, do resist the urge to poke any holes in the eggplant. Simply flattening the eggplant to about a quarter-inch would be optimal.

By now, the eggplant's spirits have surely been broken--what with all the burning and the smashing. But to make sure, use his head as a handle, pick him up, and then dunk his smooshed body into an egg bath of shame.

Eggcellent! Mwahahahaha!

Next, remove the eggplant from its egg bath of shame, then spread a thin layer of ground meat atop the eggplant. Tortang Talong usually calls for ground pork, but ground beef or turkey would be fine as well. I happened to use Mexican Chorizo that I cooked with some onions and garlic for my Tortang Talong. Why Mexican Chorizo? Because it was all I had in my culinary dungeon at the time. That, and because it's effing delicious.

Tarred and feathered Egged and Chorizo'd.

Once properly battered (Ha! Battered! Get it?!), throw the eggplant into a hot frying pan slicked with a thin film of oil. Fry the first side of the eggplant for a few minutes, until the egg has set, then carefully flip onto the meat side and fry for another few minutes.

Into the frying pan.

Finally, the time has arrived for the eggplant's comeuppance! Comeuppance I say! While many Filipinos enjoy their Tortang Talong with ketchup, I feel that the spicy bite of Sriracha adds insult to injury.

Tortured Eggplant = Tasty Eggplant.

Because of the grilling, the nuttiness and smokiness of the eggplant is intensified--and along with the smoky and spicy chorizo, the whole dish works wonderfully well. I chose not to utilize any soy, patis, salt, or pepper because the Mexican Chrorizo was already full of flavor--but if using plain ground meat, do be sure to season to taste.

Of course, you can completely omit the meat in this dish for a vegetarian version. Just dip the smooshed eggplant in egg, and fry. I usually omit the meat when I make Tortang Talong from small Indian eggplant.

How cute! Mini Tortang Talong!

Simply serve the Tortang Talong with some steamed white rice and enjoy.

Truth be told, the word "Talong" translates to "eggplant," and the word "Tortang" may actually be derived from the Spanish word "Torta," or omellete. So Tortang Talong really is just a Filipino eggplant omelette of sorts.

Despite the true meaning of this dish, I still like to call it "Tortured Eggplant" because that poor purple fella goes through a lot before ultimately finding his final resting place in my belly. FREEEEEDOOOOOOMMMMM!

In other news...

I'm not sure how or why this happened, but I've been nominated for "Most Humorous Blog" in the upcoming Foodbuzz Blog Awards. Apparently, there are a few readers out there that find humor in my, uh, sense of humor. I'm greatly flattered by this as I often feel I'm more annoying than humorous, so thanks to those of you who nominated me--whoever you are.

If you happen to be someone that actually finds my blog "Most Humorous," then by all means, CLICK HERE AND VOTE FOR ME!

Now, onto the recipe:

Tortang Talong (Filipino Eggplant Omelette)

Serves 2

2 eggplant (the long and slender Japanese or Filipino variety), each 8-10 inches long
2 Tablespoons vegetable oil, divided
1 small onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, chopped
1/2 pound Mexican chorizo sausage, removed from casing
2 eggs, beaten

(Optional) Soak the stems of the eggplants in water for 10-15 minutes (I like to turn the eggplants upside down in a measuring cup of water). Soaking the stems prevents them from burning off. You need the stems to stay intact so that you can use them to handle the eggplant.

Place the eggplants on a hot grill over direct heat. Grill for 3-5 minutes, then turn with tongs and grill for another 3-5 minutes, until the skin of the eggplant is blackened and charred. The inside of the eggplant should be soft, but still able to hold its shape. Remove the eggplant from the grill and set aside to cool.

Meanwhile, heat 1 tablespoon of the vegetable oil in a frying pan over high heat. Add the onions and garlic to the pan, and cook for 1-2 minutes, until the onions become translucent. Add the chorizo to the pan, and stir together with the onions and garlic. Continue stirring until chorizo is cooked through, 3-5 minutes. Remove the chorizo mixture from the pan and set aside on a plate to cool.

Peel the blackened skin from the cooled eggplant, leaving the stem intact. Using a fork, flatten the eggplant until it is about 1/4-inch thick. Place the beaten eggs into a large shallow dish. Dip each of the peeled and flattened eggplants into the eggs, making sure the eggplants are coated well on both sides, then place the eggplants on a separate platter.

Take any remaining beaten eggs and add to the chorizo mixture. Stir to combine. Spread equal amounts of the chorizo mixture into a thin layer on each of the eggplants.

Heat the remaining tablespoon of oil in a fry pan over medium-high heat. Carefully place the eggplants into the pan and fry 2-3 minutes per side. Remove eggplant from pan and serve immediately with steamed rice.

Burned, flattened, battered, and fried.
Tasty, tasty torture.

The Asian Grandmothers Cookbook

2009-10-01T10:17:11-07:00

I've been lucky enough to have a multitude of "grandmothers" in my life. Two of my paternal grandmother's sisters live with my grandmother and grandfather. And although my grandmother's sisters may technically be my "great aunties," I actually call all three sisters "Grandma." Confusing, but true.

My brothers, and pretty much the rest of my family, all refer to my great aunts as "Auntie" and my grandmother as "Grandma". So I'm not sure how or why I came to lump my grandmother and her sisters into the same "Grandma" category, but it's something I've done since childhood.

All in all though, I don't think any of the sisters mind. In fact, I think they all like being called "Grandma." Afterall, the coveted title of "Grandma" seems to magically transform a woman into a "Culinary Superhero." As such, each of my grandmothers has a specific Filipino specialty in their superhero arsenal. For instance, one of my grandmother's sisters makes a pinakbet I swoon for, the other sister makes some mean Miki (a type of Filipino noodle dish), and my grandmother herself specializes in any and everything sweet.

So whenever to grandmother's (grandmothers') house I go, I am guaranteed to be treated to a family feast on many fronts. I am truly one lucky son of a gun to have access to wonderful Filipino food from three great grandmothers.

But thanks to Pat Tanumihardja's new book, The Asian Grandmothers Cookbook, everyone can now have access to an extra set of grandmothers, and their recipes to boot.

As the title suggests, The Asian Grandmothers Cookbook (published by Sasquatch Books) features over 100 recipes from different Asian grandmothers, mothers, and aunties. Pat Tanumihardja went to great lengths to write this cookbook (it's huge!). In addition to the various Chinese, Japanese, Indonesian, Vietnamese, Indian, Korean, Thai, and Filipino recipes, Pat also compiled a series of short biographies entitled, "Profile of a Grandma", within her cookbook. These profiles provide the wonderful stories and backgrounds of a few of the grandmothers that contributed to the book--a book that is simply incredible in terms of recipes and content.

One particular "Profile of a Grandma" that I found interesting was that of a woman named Gloria Santos. Ms. Santos grew up in the Philippines and did most of her household's cooking as a teen during WWII. Later, Ms. Santos became a teacher and married, but with a busy career she had no time to cook--leaving that task to her maid. Then in 1968, Ms. Santos and her growing family fled the Philippines and moved to the U.S., where she would have to recall and relearn the Filipino dishes she made as a teenager back home. Today, Ms. Santos continues to cook for her family and grandchildren during holidays and family gatherings.

For The Asian Grandmothers Cookbook, Gloria Santos contributed a wonderful recipe for Suman Sa Gata.

A Lil' Suman Suman

Suman Sa Gata is a Filipino snack of sweet glutinous rice cooked in coconut milk and sugar, and then wrapped and steamed in banana leaves. The resultant dish is sorta like a Filipino candy bar--minus the chocolate, nuts, caramel, and nougat. Ok, so it's not really like a candy bar. But it is delicious! A delicious sticky rice dessert packaged and perfumed with fragrant banana leaf.

Great things come in banana leaf packages.

Suman Sa Gata also happens to be a specialty of my own grandmother (you know, the superhero of sweets). During holidays and special occasions at my grandmother's house, there always seems to be a platter piled high with Suman. And I'm always the first one to grab a parcel of the sweet rice, being sure to carefully unwrap the banana leaf so that my fingers don't get sticky.

Grandkid approved.

And truthfully, the Suman Sa Gata recipe in The Asian Grandmothers Cookbook is just as good as my own grandmother's recipe (GASP!). Like I said earlier, the title of "Grandma" magically transforms women and their food, and I guess that magic transcends family ties too!

In addition to the Suman Sa Gata recipe, Pat Tanumihardja also provides a number of other Filipino recipes in The Asian Grandmothers Cookbook. These recipes include Sinangag (garlic-fried rice), Lumpia, Beef Inasal, Chicken Adobo, Easy Lechon, Pancit, Embutido, Bibinka, and Turon.

I'm also happy to say that a version of my own beloved Pinakbet recipe is featured in The Asian Grandmothers Cookbook! I'm even mentioned by name in the headnote on page 111! Although I'm not an Asian grandmother, much of what I do on this blog is inspired by my grandmother and her sisters, so it was great to see Pinakbet in The Asian Grandmothers Cookbook.

If you want to see the Pinakbet recipe, and many other great Asian recipes, you'll have to pick up a copy of The Asian Grandmothers Cookbook, available now on Amazon and at bookstores everywhere.

For more information, you can also visit Pat's blog at http://theasiangrandmotherscookbook.wordpress.com/.

You can also visit Pat's website at http://www.ediblewords.com/.

Cora Cooks Pancit

2009-09-25T16:39:31-07:00

Some say that it's never too early to read to your child--even reading to an infant still in the womb is said to increase a baby's language skills. So when the fine folks at Shen's Books sent me a review copy of one of their latest children's books, I couldn't wait to read it to my own new baby boy.

But the book I received was no ordinary children's book. It was a children's book about Filipino culture and food!

Written by Dorina Lazo Gilmore and illustrated by Kristi Valliant, Cora Cooks Pancit is the story of a young Filipina girl who finally gets the chance to help her mother cook in the kitchen.

After Cora gets the OK from her mother to work in the kitchen, Cora then gets to decide what to cook.

After images of lumpia and adobo dance in Cora's head, she finally decides that she wants to make pancit (Filipino noodles). And with her mother's guidance, Cora helps to make a pancit dinner for the entire family.

Although I, myself, did grow up in a Filipino household, I didn't necessarily spend much of my youth in my mother's kitchen. In fact, if a children's book were illustrated and based on my own childhood, 99% of the pictures would involve me sitting in front of a TV, me and my brothers punching each other in the face, and me sitting in front of a TV.

In fact, much of my TV watching consisted of the following:

Ah, Reading Rainbow. It's a classic! I heart LeVar Burton!

I don't think anything gets me more pumped up than the "Reading Rainbow" theme song. I feel like wrestling grizzly bears. But I digress.

Anyways, as most of you know by now, I kinda got a late start to this whole Filipino food thing. I don't blame this on my mother (not entirely, at least), but perhaps raising three rowdy boys with a penchant for bloody noses was counter-productive to a serious session of lumpia-rolling in her kitchen.

Now, as a new parent myself, I can only hope that my little one will some day show a curiosity in the cultural dishes I prepare in our own kitchen. Luckily, his curiosity is getting a head start whenever I read him Cora Cooks Pancit.

Growing up as a Filipino American, I never came across a children's book that specifically spoke to my heritage. And Cora Cooks Pancit does it all. Not only is Cora Cooks Pancit wonderfully written and beautifully illustrated, but it encourages and promotes Filipino heritage to such a young audience--something that was terribly lacking when I was a kid. Heck, it even includes a Pancit recipe at the end of the book, good eats that I'm sure my youngster will appreciate once he starts eating solid foods.

I can't read or cook yet, but I've got a gazillion Pogi points!

For more information on Cora Cooks Pancit, visit the Shen's Books website here.

Tinola: Filipino Chicken Soup

2009-09-14T17:41:37-07:00

As new parents, the wife and I have received some child-rearing tips from, oh, just about everyone we know. I'm not saying we're not appreciative of such tips, but some of these pointers have been downright unusual. Not surprisingly, the strangest pointers have come from my own mother:

"Make sure you massage his head so it will stay round."
"You should leave the lights on at night when he sleeps, so he gets used to it."

I know I'm new to this whole parenting thing, but I'm perfectly satisfied with the current roundness of my kid's head, and leaving the lights on at night just makes no sense to me. Ironically enough, I can rest a beer on my own head because it's so flat, and I'm nocturnal. Strange, that.

So despite my mother's good intentions (at least I think her intentions are good), I've pretty much ignored her "sage" advice. However, there was one nugget of knowledge that spilled from my mother's mouth that did kinda sorta make sense: "Tinola is good for increasing breast milk production."

"I can produce breast milk?" I asked my mom.

"Not you, your wife!" she corrected me.

I told you, I'm new to this.

Anyways, Tinola is a simple-to-make rustic Filipino chicken soup. Like the chicken soups of most other cultures, Tinola is also known for its healing and restorative powers--helping to recover from cold and flu symptoms--this much I knew. But I had never before heard that Tinola was also good for nursing and feeding newborns.

So I wasn't sure if my mother was just perpetuating some old Filipino wives' tale, or if Tinola indeed possessed any lactic magic (I'm very pleased with myself that I came up with that rhyme). But if cooking a pot of Tinola would make things easier for my wife, and indirectly get some Filipino food into my kid, I was all for it.

A bowl of Lactic Magic?

Besides chicken, chili leaves also play a vital role in a good Tinola. Chili leaves are exactly what they sound like, the leaves from a chili pepper plant. Despite their origins, chili leaves are not at all spicy, though they do lend a slightly bitter flavor to the dish. You can find frozen chili leaves at the Asian market (sometimes labeled as "Dahon ng Sili"), but fresh chili leaves are always best. If you happen to grow any thai birds, or jalapenos, or the like, you can use the leaves from your own chili plant. Or, if you are like me, you may have a favorite purveyor of chili peppers at your local farmer's market. If so, then just ask your chili guy (or gal) to bring in some fresh chili leaves for you--you might get a funny look, but getting fresh chili leaves is well worth it. Leaves from the moringa tree (AKA mulunggay leaves) can also be used in place of chili leaves, but I prefer chili leaves.

Green papaya is another key ingredient in Tinola. Besides adding texture and color to the Tinola, green papaya may also help in keeping the chicken tender as the unripened fruit contains the meat-tenderizing enzyme known as papain. Green papaya contain a higher amount of papain than ripe papaya. Fresh green papaya can be found at Asian markets, though Chayote squash is also a suitable substitute (though chayote lacks any meat tenderizing properties).

Other ingredients in Tinola include ginger (I like loads of ginger in my Tinola), garlic and onion if you like (I do), and fish sauce (again, I like loads of fish sauce in my Tinola). Lastly, I also like the addition of lemongrass in Tinola (my chili guy had some fresh lemongrass in addition to the chili leaves), though my mother's version of Filipino chicken soup does not have any lemongrass.

As far as my mother's Tinola claim goes, my wife suspects there may be some truth to it--after one post-Tinola feeding, our newborn has grown to the size of Spud Webb and can now speak fluent Ilocano and Tagalog. Impressive. Much better than having a block head or roaming about at night like El Chupacabra.

Milky way, indeed.

Tinola: Filipino Chicken Soup

Makes 6-8 servings

1 tablespoon oil
1 onion, diced
1 stalk lemongrass, outermost leaves removed and bottom 6 inches (the white part) minced finely
4 cloves garlic, minced
2-inches fresh ginger, peeled and minced
1 whole chicken (4-5 lbs.), cut into serving pieces
3 tablespoons fish sauce, plus more to taste
8 cups water
1 green papaya, peeled, seeded and cut into 1/2-inch wedges
1-2 cups chili leaves, picked from stems and rinsed

Heat the oil in a large pot or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add the onions to the pot and cook until soft and translucent, about 5 minutes. Add the lemongrass, garlic, and ginger and cook another 30 seconds.

Add the chicken pieces and fish sauce to the pot, stir and cook for 1-2 minutes until chicken is coated in oil (you don't have to brown the chicken). Add the water to the pot, increase heat to high, and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat, cover, and simmer for 20 minutes. Add the papaya, and continue simmering until papaya is tender, 10-15 minutes.

Taste the soup for seasoning, and add more fish sauce if needed. Salt can also be used at this point as well.

Remove the pot from the heat, add the chili leaves and stir. Cover the pot for 3-5 minutes, or until the chili leaves wilt. Serve with white rice (I like to put a scoop of rice in my soup bowl).

18th Annual FPAC

2009-09-08T15:20:40-07:00

Just wanted to give a quick heads up to my SoCal readers about the 18th Annual Festival of Philippine Arts and Culture (FPAC) happening this weekend (Sept. 12-13) in San Pedro, CA.

Widely known as Southern California’s largest and longest-running Filipino cultural celebration, FPAC will feature live performances by a diverse line-up. This year's headliner at FPAC will be Filipino Amercian comedian, Rex Navarrete:

Poo jokes. They never disappoint.

In addition to Navarrete, FPAC will also feature performances by Geologic, of the rising hip hop group the Blue Scholars; MTV’s America’s Best Dance Crew Season 2 finalist, Supreme Soul; YouTube sensation, AJ Rafael; and pop vocalist Ashley Robles.

The two-day festivities will also include its first-ever Martial Arts Village--a small enclave in which I envisioned festival-goers battling each other with sticks and knives (Sumbrada, anyone?). However, I've been told that the Martial Arts Village will feature demonstrations by the IMB Academy and the South Bay Martial Arts Club--and that's just as cool.

And lastly, yes, there will be Filipino food at FPAC! In light of complaints for a lack of actual Pinoy food at last year's FPAC (one of those complaints being mine), I've been informed that FPAC organizers have gone the extra mile this year to include more Filipino food vendors. (NOTE: FPAC makes sure to approach a number of Filipino food vendors every year, but vendors don't always have the time or resources to participate.)

Vendors providing Filipino food at this year's festival will be Aling Neri's and The Park's Finest BBQ, among others. And another new addition to this year's FPAC will be a Filipino Cooking Demonstration Booth run by Chef Cecilia DeCastro. I imagine workshops on lumpia rolling and "How to skillfully evade kitchen criticisms from your mother" would be popular topics, but no matter what is demonstrated, I'm sure Chef DeCastro will handle the booth with professional ease.

To make sure you get in on all the action that FPAC has to offer, you can pre-order tickets for the festival here. Tickets will also be available at the entrance on the day of FPAC.

For more information on the Festival of Philippine Arts and Culture, check out the FPAC website here.

What: The 18th Annual Festival of Philippine Arts and Culture

When: September 12-13, 2009. 10am-6pm for both days.

Where: Point Fermin Park, 807 Paseo Del mar, San Pedro, CA 90731

Homemade Lumpia Wrappers

2009-09-02T11:33:38-07:00

In case I ever get the Jones to roll up a few fatty spring rolls, I almost always have a package of store-bought Lumpia wrappers at the ready, hidden within the depths of my freezer. But after closer inspection, I found the following ingredients listed on the packaging of said wrappers:

"Bleached wheat flour (niacin, riboflavin, thiamin, reduced iron, mononitrate, folic acid), water, salt, glycerin, sorbital".

I have no idea what half of those ingredients are (isn't glycerin in soap?)! But up until very recently, the chemical make-up of spring roll wrappers was of little consequence to me. Store-bought lumpia wrappers could contain Soylent Green (mmm, soylent green) for all I cared; I was content as long as the end product resulted in crunchy and tasty lumpia.

But thanks to the help of Andrea Nguyen's newest cookbook, Asian Dumplings: Mastering Gyoza, Spring Rolls, Samosas, and More, I had a spring roll epiphany: Lumpia wrappers can be made from scratch!

Crazy right? Aside from the crepe-like skins of Lumpiang Sariwa (fresh unfried lumpia), I never considered making my own wrappers for fried lumpia. But with Andrea's fantastic cookbook, a few simple ingredients that I already had in my pantry (no glycerine necessary), and a bit of patience, I was able to fashion my own stash of homemade lumpia wrappers--thin skins that, when fried, were just as crisp and golden as their store-bought counterparts.

Believe it or not, handmade spring roll skins.
Yeah, it's kind of a big deal.

To make handmade lumpia skins, a loose dough must first be created from a little bit of flour and some water (and a few other secret ingredients). Although not much goes into the actual dough that comprises handmade lumpia skins, there is a lot to be said about the technique and overall zen-calmness that is necessary to manipulate these few ingredients. To illustrate this point, here's a video of Andrea Nguyen making the spring roll wrappers from her cookbook:

I know, making your own spring roll wrappers looks damn near impossible, right? After I watched that video for the first time, I knew the task before me could be daunting (spoiler alert: the task before me was daunting). But armed with Andrea's video and with the easy-to-follow instructions in the Asian Dumplings cookbook, I was confident I'd soon have my own stack of handmade lumpia wrappers.

Handling my dough.

For me, the most difficult part about making spring roll skins was handling the loose and goopy dough (those are technical terms). I discovered that the gooey blob had a taste for flesh (my hand) and wanted to be everywhere (the counter, the stovetop, my shirt) but in the pan.

But after a few minutes of working the dough in my hand, and after a few failed attempts at "swabbing" my hot skillet with a handful of mess, I eventually got the hang of it all. With each pass of the blob over my nonstick skillet, an amazingly thin skin formed and clung to the hot surface of the pan.

Not a perfect circle, but success nonetheless!

Though things weren't perfectly perfect on my first go-around with spring roll skins, I was still dumbfounded by what took place in my kitchen--before I knew it, right there in front of me on a damp kitchen towel was a glorious stack of handmade spring roll skins. It was magic.

Fillin' skins.

Though the finished skins appeared to be fragile, they proved incredibly resilient when I filled them with my usual lumpia fodder of pork and veggies--with every roll and fold, the wrappers resisted any tears or holes.

In addition to lumpia, I also made some Turon from the epic Asian Dumplings cookbook.

Hot banana napalm in a wrapper.

Turon, a favorite Filipino snack, is lumpia filled with banana and brown sugar. Once fried, the banana softens and the brown sugar caramelizes. My mother usually uses saba bananas or plantains in her turon, but regular bananas work well also.

After finally sitting down and enjoying my crunchy bounty of lumpia and turon, I still couldn't believe that what started as a blob ended up as beautifully golden and crisp spring roll wrappers.

Though I could have made my lumpia skins even thinner this first time around (it's all about temperature control), the wrappers still turned out wonderfully crisp when fried. I know I can do better next time (and there will be a next time!).

Truth be told, making your own spring roll wrappers from scratch can be a bit difficult, at first. But with practice, the exercise of making lumpia skins becomes second nature. Heck, I'd even venture to say that the whole thing gets easier, and fun, and addicting--all thanks to Andrea's wonderful and inspirational cookbook.

For the exact recipe for handmade spring roll wrappers, do pick up a copy of Asian Dumplings: Mastering Gyoza, Spring Rolls, Samosas, and More. And for additional help and pointers on making spring roll wrappers, check out Andrea's video again on her helpful website AsianDumplingTips.com.

Besides spring roll wrappers, lumpia, and turon, the Asian Dumplings cookbook also has great Filipino recipes for Empanadas and Siopao--all with handmade doughs. And of course, the book has a variety of excellent recipes for most other Asian dumplings--everything from pot stickers, to soup dumplings, to wontons. I told you it was epic.

It's A Boy!!!

2009-08-13T14:39:35-07:00

Hello Everyone,

Just wanted to check in right quick with everyone while I can. Earlier this week, The Wife and I welcomed a beautiful baby boy into this world. Both mother and baby are healthy and well.

"Baby Lumpia" was born 8 pounds 3 oz, and measured 22.5 inches long (he's a lean mean machine!).

Thanks to those who emailed me and DM'd me on Twitter these last couple weeks wondering about the baby! Your well-wishes were much appreciated!

I'll get back to posting here regularly as soon as I can, so hang tight!

Dodgertown Philippines

2009-07-31T14:10:45-07:00

One wouldn't normally associate Filipino food with America's Pastime, but on the evening of August 18, 2009, the Los Angeles Dodgers will be hosting Filipino Community Night at Dodger Stadium as the Dodgers will face the St. Louis Cardinals. As part of this special night, a designated "Dodgertown Philippines" section of Dodger Stadium will have access to an all-inclusive Filipino-themed menu.

That's right. Filipino food at a baseball game.

Historically, the closest proximity between Filipino food and a baseball game was when my grandpa (a hardcore Doh-jair fan) enjoyed a plate of Igado and rice while squatting in front of his TV--which was probably only last night. But I digress.

On the night of August 18, the special menu for the Dodgertown Philppines section of Dodger Stadium will include "Chicken Adobo, Philippine Style BBQ Pork, and Pineapple Spears." In addition to the Filipino menu, the Dodgertown Philippines section will also have access to All-You-Can-Eat Dodger Dogs, nachos, peanuts, popcorn, Coca-Cola products, and water. (It would have been awesome if they offered Filipino Spaghetti made with Dodger Dogs.)

And if the Filipino food isn't enough to get you to the game, the Dodgers will also be giving away free, limited edition (limited edish, as the kids like to say) "Dodgertown Philippines" t-shirts.

So get yourself to Dodger Stadium on August 18! How often will you be able to cheer on ManRam v. PooHoles with chicken adobo in your mouth and an $8 beer in your hand alongside a raging group of other drunken Pinoys?

For more information, and to purchase tickets for Filipino Community Night at Dodger Stadium, CLICK HERE.

NOTE: If purchasing tickets, make sure you select tickets for the "MY TOWN LOWER RESERVE SECTION". No other sections have access to the Filipino menu.