Burnt Lumpia

Summertime Salabat

2009-07-14T17:59:36-07:00

Salabat is a hot Filipino ginger tea usually served during the colder months of winter (well, if in the Philippines I guess it's served just during the cooler months) to sooth and comfort what ails you. In fact, Salabat may be the Filipino elixir of choice to combat the ill effects of cold and flu season: coughing, sneezing, runny nose, sore throat, and overall booger-cloggedness. Heck, Salabat can even soothe one's golden pipes after a late night of carousing and karaoke (if that's how you roll).

While I enjoy warming my mitts around a scalding mug of freshly steeped ginger tea as much as the next guy, the weather in SoCal is currently hotter than two rats in an effing wool sock. In addition to the hotness in my neck of the woods, I've also been sweating and whiling away painting a nursery, re-finishing an old rocking chair, putting together a crib, and making sure the wife is well-fed--all in anticipation of the pending birth of my demon seed (I mean that affectionately, of course). As such, sipping on hot tea is a less than desirable way to quench my thirst at the moment.

Despite the present circumstances though, I have found a way to enjoy Filipino ginger tea during the hot summer months... make a cocktail!

2 Hot 4 T

I know what you're thinking. It's completely out of character for me to reappropriate something seemingly tame into an alcoholic beverage. Yeah, I'm shocked too.

Anyhizzle, one of my favorite hot-weather cocktails is the Dark and Stormy--a simple Bermudan concoction comprised of dark rum (Goslings Black Seal), a squeeze of lime, and some ginger beer. Despite it's name, ginger beer is actually non-alcoholic--think of it as a more potent and gingery ginger ale. I usually also prefer ginger beers from Bermuda (like Barritts) in a Dark and Stormy, but Reed's will do if you can't find Bermudan ginger beer. Also check out this post at Serious Eats for more info on ginger beer.

I figured I could take advantage of Salabat's spicy and gingery bite by cooling down a batch of the hot ginger tea and then subbing it in for the ginger beer in a traditional Dark and Stormy. My Salabat Cocktail isn't as fizzy or funky as a traditional Dark and Stormy, but it makes for a great sipper on a hot day.

Salabat Ginger Tea

Makes 2-3 servings

3 cups water
3 tablespoons brown sugar
5-inch piece of fresh ginger, peeled and thinly sliced

Combine all ingredients in a small saucepan over high heat and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to low, then simmer for 10 minutes.

For winter enjoyment: Ladle the hot ginger tea into a coffee mug or teacup and serve immediately. You could strain the ginger slices out, but I like to leave them in. If the ginger tea is too spicy, it can be watered down or sweetenend with more sugar or honey as desired.

For summertime shenanigans: Cool tea completely. Then mix with dark rum for a Salabat Cocktail (see recipe below).

Here it is, the groove, slightly transformed

Salabat Cocktail

Makes 1 drink

2 ounces dark rum (Goslings, or even Tanduay)
4 ounces cooled and strained Salabat ginger tea
Club Soda
1 Kalamansi Lime

In a Collins glass filled with ice, add the rum and Salabat ginger tea. Top off with club soda, then garnish with a squeeze of Kalamansi. Enjoy the day.

A Fish Story

2009-06-30T23:39:00-07:00

The following is loosely based on actual events...

INT. LOCAL FILIPINO MARKET - NOON

Marvin zips through the automated market doors and makes a beeline toward the back of the store--past the colorful bottles of banana ketchup and fish sauce, and beyond the refrigerated aisles of fermented shrimp paste and calamansi-flavored sodas. He reaches the fish counter in a huff.

OLD FISHMONGER GUY

What you want?

MARVIN
(perusing the assortment of fresh fish on ice)

Uh, you don't have any snapper today, huh?

OLD FISHMONGER GUY
(saying something in Tagalog that Marvin can't understand)

Blah, blah, blah, isda, blah.

MARVIN

(sheepishly)

Uh, I don't speak Tagalog.

OLD FISHMONGER GUY

You are not Filipino?

MARVIN

I am. I just don't speak Tagalog.

OLD FISHMONGER GUY

You look Korean.

MARVIN
(thinking to himself)

If I look Korean, why the hell are you talking to me in Tagalog?

(to the Fishmonger)

I get that all the time, but I'm Filipino.

OLD FISHMONGER GUY

I see. Well, what are you going to cook? Why do you want snapper?

MARVIN
(sheepishly, again.)

Well, uh, I'm going to make Escabeche.

OLD FISHMONGER GUY
(bewildered)

You know how to make Escabeche? You can't speak Tagalog, but you can make Escabeche?!! Ha! Tell me how you make it.

MARVIN

Well, I already made the sweet and sour sauce at home, before I came here. I just want to get a whole fish here and have you fry it.

OLD FISHMONGER GUY
(surprised, maybe even a little impressed)

Ah, you made the sauce already? I see. And I fry? That's not a bad idea, ha! So you don't want to fry at home, ha! Wow, that's good. Well, grouper is best for Escabeche, but we don't have any of that either.

MARVIN

Is there anything I can use for Escabeche?

OLD FISHMONGER GUY

How many are you feeding?

MARVIN

Just me and my wife.

OLD FISHMONGER GUY
(laughing)

Just two?!! Ha! What, your wife can't cook?

MARVIN
(getting irked, but was taught to respect his elders, dammit)

She cooks. But she's not Filipino. So I cook the Filipino food.

OLD FISHMONGER GUY
(still laughing)

She's not Filipino?! Does she like what you cook? Does she eat Filipino food?

MARVIN
(wondering why older Filipinos always seem to laugh at him)

She loves Filipino food, actually.

OLD FISHMONGER GUY

That's good! That's good! OK, I have this Sea Bass here. It will be good for Escabeche. I'll clean it and fry it for you, then you take home fast, OK? So the fish will be crisp when you get home. You don't live far do you?

MARVIN

Nope. Just ten minutes away.

OLD FISHMONGER GUY

Good.

The Old Fishmonger Guy grabs a pristine-looking sea bass from his case, turns around, and slams it on his work counter. He goes to work and cleans the fish. Scales fly every which way, some even landing in his non-hairnet-protected hair. The Old Fishmonger Guy then takes the fish and plunges it into the hot oil of a deep fryer. Above the fryer is a sign that reads "We Fry For Free. (Whole Fish Only)". Marvin spots the sign and imagines his mom reading the sign aloud. He laps laughs.

OLD FISHMONGER GUY

So tell me. What did you put in your Escabeche sauce?

MARVIN
(counting on his fingers as he lists his ingredients)

Hmmm. Some vinegar, water, patis, onions, garlic, ginger, red and green bell pepper, and, um, hmmm. I think that's it.

OLD FISHMONGER GUY

Sugar?

MARVIN

Oh, yeah! Sugar! Yes, I put some sugar in it too. It's sweet and sour with the vinegar and sugar.

OLD FISHMONGER GUY

Yes. That sounds like a pretty good Escabeche sauce.

MARVIN

(thinking to himself)

Acceptance! At last!

(to the Fishmonger)

Oh, thanks.

After a few minutes in the bubbling and spewing hot oil, the fish was removed from the deep fryer, sprinkled with a little salt, then wrapped in a cardboard box and foil. Marvin again thanked The Old Fishmonger and took his parcel to the front of the store and paid for the fish. Marvin then zipped through the automated market doors, got into his car, then dashed home.

INT. BURNT LUMPIA WORLDWIDE HEADQUARTERS - EARLY AFTERNOON.

Marvin arrives at home, but the smell of the fried fish seemingly precedes him as his wife calls out to him from the living room before even seeing him.

THE WIFE
(she's visibly pregnant, her hands are clasped over her belly as she sits on the couch)

Finally! How was the market?

MARVIN
(already in the kitchen, removing the fish from its package and placing it on a serving platter)

Eh, same as always.

THE WIFE
(walking into the kitchen)

Mmmmm. That smells good. I kept the sauce warm on the stove like you asked. I've been craving this forever!

MARVIN
(pouring the sweet and sour sauce onto the fish)

You and me both.

Filipino Escabeche (Sweet and Sour Fish)

Serves Two

NOTE: You can deep-fry your own fish at home if you'd like. But as I mentioned above, I've found it a lot easier (and neater) to have the fish fried at my local Filipino market. If you don't have a local Filipino market, most other Asian markets (like 99 Ranch) also fry your fish for free. And I apologize for the corniness above.

1 2lb. whole sea bass, red snapper, or grouper--cleaned, gutted, and deep fried.

2 Tablespoons canola oil
1 red onion, sliced
1-inch piece of ginger, peeled and julienned
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 green bell pepper, julienned
1 red bell pepper, julienned
1/2 cup water
1/4 cane vinegar
1 Tablespoon fish sauce
1 Tablespoon brown sugar
Freshly ground black pepper, to taste
1 teaspoon cornstarch
1 Tablespoon cold water
2 green onions, chopped for garnish

To make the Escabeche sweet and sour sauce, heat the oil in a large saute pan over medium high heat. Add the onions to the hot pan and saute for five minutes. Add the ginger, garlic, and bell peppers to the pan, and continue cooking until bell peppers begin to soften, about 3 minutes.

Add the water, vinegar, fish sauce, brown sugar, and black pepper to the pan. Stir to combine, bring to a boil, then reduce heat to a simmer. Cover pan, and continue simmering over low heat for 10 minutes. After 10 minutes, taste the sauce and adjust sauce to the desired sweet/sourness if needed.

Combine the cornstarch with the Tablespoon of water, then add to the pan. Continue stirring over low heat until sauce thickens. Remove sauce from heat, then pour over whole fried fish on a serving platter. Garnish with green onions. Serve immediately.

Homemade Longanisa v2.0

2009-06-09T22:34:33-07:00

During the lifespan of this here Filipino Food Blog, I've made some food that I never thought I'd have the skill, chops, or know-how, to make. I'm not saying any of this food has been perfect, I'm an inexperienced hack after all, but I've at least been able to avoid self-induced food poisoning that could have been caused by my overwhelming lack of said skill, chops, or know-how. But it turns out that with a little research, and a lot of patience, seemingly difficult dishes can be prepared with relative ease.

Take for instance, the Filipino pork sausage known as Longanisa (also spelled longanissa, longganisa, longannisa, and everything in between). Almost 2 years ago, I made my own homemade Longanisa from scratch. This initial foray into sausage making, while daunting, resulted in some dang tasty pork links. Overall, it was a satisfying enough experience that I had to pat myself on the back a la Barry Horowitz.

However, after a visit to the Philippines last year and sampling the awesomely fatty Ilocano sausages of Batac, and after Josh Bousel of Serious Eats adapted my longanisa recipe with fantastic results, I realized that there was still much room for improvement in my original recipe (let's call that one Homemade Longanisa v1.0, or HL1).

So after some tinkering and fine-tuning here at the Burnt Lumpia Worldwide Headquarters, I've finally devised a better sausage--a tastier, fattier sausage more evocative of the Longanisa I enjoyed in the Northern Philippines last summer. Ah yes, by streamlining a few ingredients while simultaneously adding more pork fat(!), I was able to evolve my old recipe into a new and improved version: Homemade Longanisa v2.0!

And with this New and Improved (Now with 50% MORE Fat!) version of Longanisa, I am happy to add it to my personal list of Porky Pinoy Pavorites...

The Five Point Pork Exploding Heart Technique:

Longanisa! Part Deux.

For those of you keeping score at home, my Homemade Longanisa v1.0 was comprised of pork butt/shoulder (same thing), kosher salt, black pepper, red pepper flakes, garlic, cider vinegar, and beer. While all of these ingredients combined to form deliciousness within a hog casing, I soon learned that a better product could be had by making the following changes:

Use Ilocano sea salt instead of kosher salt
Use Sukang Iloco instead of cider vinegar
Lose the beer altogether--it only waters down the flavor of the vinegar
Add more pork fat!!!
Mix everything by hand, do not mix ingredients with stand mixer.

At first glance, the above adjustments may seem minor--changing salt for salt and vinegar for vinegar in particular. But the use of ingredients from the region of inspiration (Ilocos, fool! What?!!) was key as the native sea salt provides a more delicate and minerally flavor compared to kosher salt, and the dark sugar cane vinegar of Ilocos lends a certain sourness that can't be found in cider vinegar. Yes, I know, not everyone has access to Ilocano sea salt, but any good sea salt will do--and kosher still works fine as well. And if you still can't find any Sukang Iloco at the Asian market, any other Filipino vinegars will also do.

Another point I want to make is that the only liquid needed in Longanisa is vinegar--don't be adding any wine, or beer, or water as those things only dilute the flavor of the vinegar and ultimately, the flavor of the sausage.

Also, adding more pork fat to my sausage mix was essential to improving my recipe. In the original HL1, I did not add any extra pork fat because I thought that a good cut of pork butt was fatty enough to keep the overall sausage moist and succulent--but a good Longanisa is unapologetically fatty as gobs of pig grease should be prevalent throughout each link (mmmm). Extra pork fat should be relatively easy to come by as you can usually ask your butcher for pork backfat/fatback, or you can even order fatback online.

For me however, my extra lard came in the form of luscious fat from a pig's jowl (double mmmm).

Pork Jowl: A lil' bit of lean, and a whole lot of fat

Some of you may remember that when I made Sisig some months back, I trimmed a whole lot of fat from a pork jowl and threw that reserved fat into the freezer for a later use. Well, that later use was for Longanisa. Lucky for me, sausage makers happen to prize jowl fat over backfat because jowl fat is creamier (triple mmmm).

And finally, after grinding the meat, fat, and other ingredients through the large die of a meat grinder, mix all the ingredients by hand rather than using the paddle attachment on a stand mixer. I went the stand mixer route on HL1, but as I learned from a comment Josh left on my previous longanisa post, mixing the sausage by hand provides a better texture.

Gobs of fat, it's in there.

It took a couple years and some experimenting, but I think I've finally settled on a Longanisa recipe with which I'm very satisfied and happy. Don't get me wrong, this isn't the end-all-be-all Longanisa recipe, but for me it's mother-effing close.

Feel free to experiment with Filipino sausage yourself, using my current version as a starting point. Use different amounts of spices, use different Filipino vinegars, use Sukang Sili for a super-spicy sausage, throw some sugar in for a sweeter sausage. Whatever you do, don't be intimidated, as sausage-making isn't as difficult as it seems. And if you start to feel chest pains from all the fat you've been shoveling into your maw, just relax, have a beer, and eat another Longanisa--you only live once.

Homemade Longanisa v2.0

Makes 15-20 sausage links

(For a more in-depth read on sausage making, see my original post on Homemade Longanisa)

2.5 pounds boneless pork butt, cut into small cubes
½ pound pork jowl fat or backfat, cut into small cubes
2 Tablespoons good quality sea salt (about 0.90 oz.)
2 teaspoons freshly ground black pepper
½ teaspoon red pepper flakes
10 large cloves of garlic, finely diced
3/4 cup chilled Sukang Iloco, or other Filipino vinegar
Hog casings, soaked overnight in water and then rinsed well inside and out.

Combine the cubed pork, fat, salt, black pepper, red pepper flakes, and garlic in a large bowl. Cover and refrigerate overnight.

The next day, grind the chilled pork mixture through the large die of a meat grinder. Add the chilled vinegar to the ground meat and mix with your hands until just combined.

Form a small patty from the sausage mixture and fry the patty in a bit of oil until cooked throughout. Taste the cooked patty for seasoning. Add additional seasoning to sausage mixture if needed. Cover and return the sausage mixture to the refrigerator and chill for one hour.

Fit the hog casings over a sausage stuffing tube then tie the loose end of the hog casing with kitchen twine. Stuff the casing with all of the meat mixture. Tie off the open ends of the casing with more kitchen twine. Using the width of your palm, measure off individual links by pinching the sausage, twisting links, and then tying the links with kitchen twine.

Store fresh sausage in the fridge for up to a week, or in the freezer for up to 3 months, until ready to cook.

The Five Point Pork Exploding Heart Technique:

Spicy Filipino Vinegar

2009-06-02T01:41:27-07:00

Old empty jars are a hot commodity in my mother's kitchen. Mayonnaise jars, pickle jars, spaghetti sauce jars, peanut butter jars, jelly jars, jar jars... if it's glass and has a screw-top lid and is almost empty, chances are that my mother will soon rinse out any remnants and set the jar aside for another use.

For instance, the ol' lass has been known to pour cooled bacon grease straight from skillet to mayo jar (though she also sometimes uses an old coffee can for grease containment). My mother has also taken to the practice of pouring some oil and vinegar into a jar, screwing on the lid, and then shaking the bejeebus out of the jar to make a simple vinaigrette (I'm not sure that my mom owns a whisk).

However, perhaps the most common purpose for my mother's repurposed jars is in the containment of Spicy Filipino Vinegar: vinegar that has been infused with Siling Labuyo (Thai chili/Bird's eye peppers). This fiery concoction is also known as Sili Suka, Sukang Sili, Suka't Sili, and/or Sinamak (I didn't know of the Sinamak nomenclature until some readers commented on it in my last post on Filipino Vinegars).

You can buy Spicy Filipino Vinegar at the Asian market--it's just a bottle of Suka with the chilies already in it. Or, you can just plop some of your own chilies into your own bottle of vinegar. But because chili retrieval from a bottle is a bit troublesome, a jar is best for this application.

Making Spicy Filipino Vinegar is simple: put some siling labuyo (Thai chili/Bird's eye peppers) into an empty jar, pour in some vinegar to cover, screw on the lid, and let the whole thing sit for a week or two, or if you're like my mother, a year (so she says). Now I've seen my mother's old pickle jar of chili-infused vinegar sitting out on her counter, and from the looks of it, I believe in its alleged age. The contents of this jar are eerily dark and nearly imperceptible--but I can still see the chilies through the murkiness.

While Sinamak may seem like nothing more than pickled peppers (technically they are), the sole act of eating only the peppers is eschewed in favor of the intensely flavored spicy vinegar. Filipinos use the chili-infused vinegar as a dipping sauce for a variety of applications like grilled fish, barbecued chicken, deep-fried pork belly, anything really. Me, I like to use a splash of the spicy vinegar and one of the chili peppers (instead of the olive brine and olive) in a dirty martini:

Dirty Martini, Filipino Style

I usually prefer my martinis fairly old school (2 parts gin, 1 part vermouth, orange bitters, lemon twist) and stay away from "dirty" martinis and other alterations of the same ilk, but I couldn't help myself from this little experiment. Although the spicy vinegar is quite potent (it hurts so good), a small splash won't overpower a good floral gin. And what better way to finish off an ice-cold martini than to gobble down the hotness that is the chili pepper at the bottom of your glass?

Anyways, although my mom keeps things simple with her spicy vinegar (it's just vinegar and chilies), my version is a bit different in that I first simmer the vinegar with a bit of sugar and salt, and I also add some black peppercorns, red pepper flakes, a bay leaf, and some garlic to the jar of Thai chilies. Lastly, I also bought some pickling jars instead of reusing old glass jars--not because I didn't want to use old jars, but because the jars in my fridge are far from empty.

Spicy Filipino Vinegar/Pickled Peppers (Sukang Sili)

Notes: You can use any kind of Filipino Vinegar you like in this recipe, I happened to use Cane Vinegar. Also, depending on how big your jar is, the amounts needed will vary. To figure out how much vinegar you need, place your chili peppers in your jar and pour in enough water to cover. Pour the water out of the jar and into a measuring cup--this will be the amount of vinegar you need.

1 Tablespoon sugar
2 teaspoons salt
1 1/4 cup vinegar
1 teaspoon whole black peppercorns
1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes
2 garlic cloves
1/4 pound siling labuyo (Thai chili peppers, red or green)

In a small saucepan over medium-high heat, combine the sugar, salt, and vinegar. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer for 5 minutes. Remove from heat and allow to cool slightly.

Place the black peppercorns, red pepper flakes, garlic, and chilies in the bottom of a large glass jar (I used a pint-sized jar). Pour the vinegar into the jar, then place the lid on the jar. Allow contents to cool to room temperature, then place jar in the refrigerator for at least a week before using the vinegar and/or eating the peppers. The vinegar will intensify in spice and flavor the longer it sits. This will keep in the refrigerator for months.

Filipino-Style Dirty Martini

2 ounces gin
1 ounce dry vermouth
Splash of sukang sili (spicy filipino vinegar)
Pickled siling labuyo (Thai chili pepper) for garnish

Stir (please don't shake) the gin, vermouth, and spicy vinegar in a mixing glass full of ice. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass, garnish with chili pepper.

Nothing says "Fancy" like a doily.

I'm Gonna Git You Suka

2009-05-17T17:56:59-07:00

Vinegar, or Suka (as it is known in the Philippines), is one of the most used ingredients in the Filipino kitchen. The prevalent use of Suka is due in large part to the extended shelf life bestowed upon goodies cooked in vinegar--a necessary culinary "voodoo" needed for tropical climes during the days of pre-refrigeration. But aside from its preservative powers, we Filipinos also just happen to like the elevated flavor punch that vinegar provides--that certain Asim (sourness) that we love oh so much in our food.

For instance, vinegar is the key player in many Filipino dishes like Paksiw, Kinilaw (raw fish "cooked" in vinegar, kinda like a ceviche), various dipping sauces, and a variety of different marinades. And of course, Adobo is perhaps the prime example of a vinegar-based Filipino dish. Heck, as I've shown here in the past, with a good bottle of vinegar you can Adobo most anything: Chicken, squid, water spinach, pork belly, and even ribs.

Mmmm. Ribs. I sho' am hungry...

Ah, I'm Gonna Git You Sucka. It's a classic.

Anyways, while I've demonstrated a few different uses of vinegar before, I've never really explained that there are also quite a few different types of vinegar that may be found in the Filipino pantry. Seeing as how vinegar is such an integral part of Filipino cuisine, and because there's such a wide spectrum of Suka in use in the Philippines, I thought I'd take the time to compare and contrast some of these potent potions (at least the ones that are readily available in my neck of the woods). Keep in mind though, that the vinegars I tasted are commercially made and probably can't compare to the artisanal and local vinegars made in the different regions of the Philippines.

Palm Vinegar

Sukang Paombong (Nipa Palm Vinegar): Filipino Palm Vinegar is made from the fermented sap of the Nipa Palm and is perhaps the most used vinegar in the Philippines. It is also named for the region of the Philippines that is known for its Palm Vinegar--Paombong.

In her book, Tikim, the late and great Filipino food writer, Doreen G. Fernandez, explains that sap is extracted from the Nipa Palm by kicking a Nipa branch "20 times once a week for six to seven weeks." Crazy right? I suppose all the roundhouses get the sap flowing (though I doubt commercial vinegars are still made in this way). Then after the JCVD Kickboxer treatment, the nipa fruit is removed from the abused branch and tapped for it's sap, which is then naturally fermented in clay jars until it turns into vinegar.

Sukang Paombong is cloudy in appearance, and has a sort of lemony/citrusy flavor note to it (at least to me it does). Even the label on my bottle of Sukang Paombong touted it's sourness with a tag emblazoned with "Super ASIM Talaga." Which roughly translates to: "Hey my man, don't be alarmed, but this vinegar you are about to purchase is more sour than you may think. So don't go wasting it on salad greens, you punk," or something like that.

Coconut Vinegar

Sukang Tuba (Coconut Sap Vinegar): Filipino Coconut Sap Vinegar is made from the fermented sap of a coconut tree. Extraction of this sap is similar to that of Nipa Palm sap, except sans the kicking--the inflourescence of the coconut tree is simply tapped for its sap and then fermented. Fresh coconut sap is known as Tuba, and then it's called Sukang Tuba once it's fermented into vinegar.

Marketman over at Market Manila has a couple of excellent posts that more specifically illustrate how Tuba is extracted and then how it is turned into Sukang Tuba.

Sukang Tuba is also cloudy in appearance, with a slightly sweet smell. Despite its origins, I couldn't detect any actual coconut smell or flavor in this vinegar, though it is rather smooth tasting on its own and not as lip-puckering as the Palm Vinegar.

Cane Vinegar

Sukang Maasim (Cane Vinegar): Filipino Cane Vinegar is made from fermented sugar cane syrup. Sugar cane is first pressed for its juice and sap, then this juice and sap is cooked and then left to ferment into vinegar.

Sukang Maasim is only slightly cloudy, almost clear. The cane vinegar I sampled was the mildest of the bunch--still sour, but very smooth and not as acrid and acidic. Cane vinegar is actually my mother's Suka of choice, using it for numerous applications such as marinating, pickling, and squirting into the eyes of her enemies.

Sukang Maasim is also the most commonly available Filipino Vinegar here in the states (well, at least in SoCal) and can usually be found in regular supermarkets. It's a great all-purpose vinegar for use in everything from Adobo to dipping sauces.

Ilocano Cane Vinegar

Sukang Iloco (Ilocano Cane Vinegar): Filipino Cane Vinegar from the Ilocos region of the Philippines is a by-product of Ilocano Sugar Cane Wine known as Basi. Basi is made by pressing the sugar cane, cooking the cane juice to a molasses state, then placing the molasses in clay jars. The bark from the Duhat (Java Plum) tree is then added to the clay jars as a flavorant and fermenting agent. The molasses first turns into the Basi wine (which I've written about here), but if left to ferment longer and sour, the Basi then transforms to Sukang Iloco.

Sukang Iloco (also spelled Iloko) is deep amber in color. Sukang Iloco is somewhat mellow in flavor, though it does have a hint of sweetness to it. Although Ilocano Cane Vinegar can be used in a wide variety of applications, I find it best when used in Ilocano foods such as longanisa or as a dipping sauce for Ilocano Empanadas.

I'm a Sucka for Suka

Other Types of Vinegars: There are a plethora of other Filipino Vinegars that I did not cover in this post simply because I could not find them locally. There are vinegars made from Duhat (Java Plum), guava, coconut water (as opposed to the sap), and probably a whole range of other fermentable liquids that I've never heard of before.

For the most part, the Filipino Vinegars I covered in this post can be found at most Asian Markets here in the U.S. for under $2, though the types, quality, and brands will vary depending on where you reside. As you can probably see in my pictures, the Datu Puti and Tropics brands of vinegar are what were available to me. Other brands, such as Silver Swan or Tropical, will more than likely taste differently than what I sampled here, so please keep that in mind. I tend to always purchase Datu Puti only because that is what my mother buys.

Also, Filipino Vinegars usually hover between 4 to 5 percent acidity--about the same as apple cider vinegar. Despite the similar acidities, Suka is usually milder in flavor than apple cider vinegar. With that said though, you can still use apple cider vinegar, or even white distilled vinegar, for Filipino recipes if you can't find Filipino vinegars (I tend to use apple cider vinegar for pork recipes). In fact, along with things like canned foods, hot dogs, and Spam, the American colonization of the Philippines brought about Del Monte and Heinz vinegars.

Lastly, another point I want to make is that Suka mellows even more in flavor (or perhaps becomes more complex) once it is cooked, so the flavor profiles are quite different when used in an Adobo. With that said, don't be afraid to utilize different Filipino Vinegars in different recipes: use Sukang Iloco in a squid adobo, dip your lumpia in Sukang Paombong, or use Sukang Tuba to marinate some tasty ribs.

And don't feel restricted to just Filipino foods--do feel free to experiment with Suka for things like vinagrettes, pickles, and blinding your enemies.

Embutido: Filipino-Style Meatloaf

2009-05-12T17:07:16-07:00

If there's one comfort food that both Americans and Filipinos can identify with, it's meatloaf. I have some fond memories from my childhood of stabbing a piece of my mother's meatloaf with my fork, dipping it in some ketchup, and then plunging the tomato-clad meat into my mouth, followed by a forkful of steamed rice.

Oh yes, we Filipinos loves us some meatloaf--or more specifically, Filipino Meatloaf known as Embutido.

What makes Embutido different from regular ol' meatloaf?

Well firstly, instead of being baked in a loaf pan like meatloaf, Embutido is usually rolled into a log shape in cheese cloth or foil and then baked or steamed. I've read that Embutido is cooked in this way because in its original form (a long, long time ago) Embutido was nothing more than ground meat stuffed into big hog casings--much like a giant sausage (hence the current practice of rolling it in cheese cloth or foil).

Embutido also sets itself apart from regular ol' meatloaf in that Embutido is usually stuffed with whole hard boiled eggs and whole hotdogs!

Yes, hot dogs. Or if you're really lucky, Vienna Sausages.

I'm sure there are some of you out there scratching your domes over the thought of a meatloaf studded with whole eggs and wieners. In fact, when serving Filipino Meatloaf to someone who's never had it before, they are likely to say something like:

"Why, there's whole eggs and wieners in this meatloaf! Either this is some sort of cruel joke or [takes bite of Embutido] this is the awesomest meatloaf known to man!"

Indeed, Embutido is the awesomest meatloaf known to man.

Not only does the filling of wieners and eggs make for a striking presentation when the Embutido is sliced, but wieners and eggs taste good too. Mmmm, wieners and eggs.

Wiener-Free (sigh)

If you couldn't already tell from the pictures in this post, I did not include any hot dogs or Vienna Sausages in my Embutido. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy wiener-stuffed meat as much as the next guy (culinary speaking of course). But on account of the wife's current condition, I kept any and all wieners out of my loaf since processed nitrate-laden meats are supposedly bad for pregnant women (the shame!). Under less fertile circumstances, I definitely would have rolled with Vienna Sausages.

As a kid, I also remember having Embutido at parties in which it was studded with raisins. I remember my mother putting raisins in her meatloaf too, but over time, those additions disappeared altogether--mostly because my brothers and I hate raisins, but also possibly because my mother was getting lazy in the kitchen... I never know what she's doing back there.

Ah, Wedding Crashers. It's a classic.

Anyhoo, to make up for the absence of raisins in my own Embutido, I added a touch of dark muscovado sugar to give the meatloaf just a hint of sweetness. And even though my Embutido is plenty moist and flavorful when it comes out of the oven, I still do enjoy it dipped in ketchup with some rice on the side.

Embutido: Filipino-Style Meatloaf

Serves 6-8

Makes 2 loaves

1 Tablespoon muscovado sugar, or brown sugar
2 Tablespoons soy sauce
1 pound ground pork
1 pound ground beef
1 red bell pepper, diced
1 green bell pepper, diced
1 onion, diced
1 carrot, diced
4 cloves garlic, finely minced
2 eggs, beaten
Freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Filling:
Hard boiled eggs
Hot dogs or Vienna sausages, left whole

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

Combine the sugar and soy sauce in a small bowl, stir until sugar dissolves, and set aside.

In a large bowl, combine the pork, beef and vegetables. Add the beaten eggs, the soy and sugar, and the black pepper to the meat mixture and stir until everything is well-combined (mixing with your hands is best for this).

Evenly divide the meat mixture between two sheets of aluminum foil about 15-inches long. Spread the meat into a rectangle (about 10x6 inches) in the middle of the foil, and then place filling (hard boiled eggs, hot dogs and/or Vienna Sausages) in the center of the meat:

2 eggs, sans wieners

Using the foil, tightly roll the meat over the filling and into a log shape. Twist the ends of the foil closed, ensuring the meat is tightly packed:

Rollin' up a couple of fatties.

Place the rolled meat onto a cookie sheet (it may be helpful to line the cookie sheet with more foil, as the meat will leak fat and juices), then place in the oven for 1 hour to 1hour 15 minutes. You can also check for doneness (160 degrees F. is good) by sticking an instant-read thermometer through the foil and into the meat--just make sure the thermometer is stuck in all meat rather than in an egg or sausage, otherwise you'll get a false reading.

Allow the meat to cool in the foil before unwrapping. Once meat is cool, unrwrap and slice. Serve with white rice, or enjoy leftovers in some Pan de sal for a Pinoy Meatloaf Sandwich.

The Awesomest Meatloaf Known To Man!

Green Mangoes and Bagoong

2009-05-03T18:13:13-07:00

The mere mention of "Green Mangoes and Bagoong" will likely excite the salivary glands of almost any Filipino. It's true.

Green Mangoes and Bagoong.

Green Mangoes and Bagoong!

Green Mangoes and Bagoong!!!

The pairing of sour unripe mangoes dipped in salty fermented shrimp paste (Bagoong) may not sound too appealing to some, but it's a mouth-watering combination for most Filipinos. In fact, after reading the first few lines of this post, I'm sure that there are some gleek-covered computer screens out there due to the certain downpour of Pavlovian drool.

Up until recently though, my own Pavlovian response to green mangoes and bagoong did indeed entail salivation... except it was the sort of salivation associated with nausea. Yeah, vomit spit (ewww). You see, when I was a wee lad I would recoil in horror as I watched my mother snack on this sour/salty delicacy. Eating unripe fruit was strange enough to me as a child, but to then dip and smother the unripe fruit in stinky rotting shrimp was altogether... well, it was just plain gross.

For those who have never had the pleasure of eating bagoong, it is a very pungent and salty paste comprised of itty-bitty teeny-weeny fermenting shrimp. While Bagoong is salty in flavor, its funky aroma is kinda like if anchovies had feet, and wore dirty socks with an old pair of sneakers, and walked around town in the afternoon sun, in July--but in a good way.

As I've gotten older though, I have learned to enjoy Bagoong in tiny doses. Heck, I even made a salad with it. However, I've always avoided eating bagoong where it is one of the primary in-your-face ingredients--such as the condiment for green mangoes. But I must confess that I've finally discovered the virtues of this classic pairing.

Looks strange to some, but it's dang tasty to others.

To put it simply, green mangoes and bagoong is like the Filipino version of salt and vinegar potato chips--except way better. The sourness of the unripe mango is cut by the salty fishiness of the bagoong, or vice-versa. Either way, I discovered it was a sour-salty snack of which I couldn't get enough. All these years my poor tastebuds were in a deep sleep of boring. Now though, my mouth waters whenever I think of crisp mangoes dipped in funky shrimp paste.

Green mangoes are often sold in Asian markets, bagoong as well. To pick a green mango, choose a fruit that is still firm and has a skin that is entirely green.

To pick a jar of bagoong, you can go with the "raw" versions that are bright pink and labeled as "Bagoong Alamang." To prepare the bagoong, just saute a few spoonfuls in a small pan with some chopped garlic and onions, a little bit of oil, and some sugar to taste if you'd like. You can even throw some hot sauce in the mix too. You can also make things easier on yourself by buying the "cooked" version of Bagoong that is labeled as "Ginisang Bagoong."

Also, if a dip in bagoong is still troublesome for you, a sprinkling of good sea salt on a crisp wedge of green mango is a suitable substitute (though not nearly as tasty).

Of course though, I did find a way to mess with an already classic and impossibly easy-to-make snack...

Fried Green Mangoes!

Yeah, I know. Why would someone want to go to the trouble of breading and frying green mangoes when the are ready to eat as is? Well, because they are breaded and fried it may be a good change of pace to the old standby. Also, besides the added texture, frying the green mango brings out a bit of sweetness, though the mango still remains quite sour.

While I admit that the standard preparation of green mangoes and bagoong is the better preparation, breading and frying the mangoes was a fun and tasty experiment that I think many will enjoy. Think of it as another take on fried green tomatoes--but with a side of funky bagoong.

Fried Green Mangoes

1 large green mango, peeled and cut into wedges
Rice flour for dredging
1/2 cup buttermilk
1 cup Panko bread crumbs
Vegetable oil for frying

Dredge the mango wedges in the rice flour, shaking off any excess. Dip the wedges in the buttermilk, then roll them in the Panko bread crumbs to evenly coat. Set the coated wedges on a wire rack for a few minutes for the breading to set.

In a large frying pan, heat 1/4-inch of oil over medium high heat. Fry the mango wedges until golden brown on all sides, about 2 minutes per side. You don't want to "cook" the mango, you just want to quickly brown the crust--the mango should still be firm after frying.

Serve fried green mangoes with a side of bagoong (or ketchup or hotsauce or whatever condiment you like).

A Shot of Gulaman

2009-04-01T23:31:42-07:00

Gulaman, to those not in the know, is a Filipino gelatin-like substance made from dried and processed red seaweed. Gulaman may be better known in other parts of the world as Agar-Agar, agar, or carrageenan. Put even more simply, Gulaman can best be described as "Filipino Jello."

Wobbly cubes of Gulaman can usually be found in Filipino sweets, sitting atop tall glasses of Halo-halo, or mixed into cool drinks like Sago at Gulaman (a Filipino dessert kinda-sorta-but-not-really similar to bubble tea and jelly).

Although Gulaman, at first glance, does look a lot like American jello, there are some very key differences. Firstly, Gulaman is 100% vegetarian since it's made from seaweed, whereas gelatin is made from the crushed bones of puppies, kittens, and koala bears (a sad but true fact). Gulaman also sets at room temperature (and can be kept out at room temperature), while gelatin needs to be refrigerated. Lastly, gulaman does not melt in your mouth (or in your hand for that matter) like gelatin does. In fact, once set, gulaman will not melt again until it reaches 185 degrees F. So unless you're a dragon, you'll have to chew on gulaman a bit before swallowing. And if you are a dragon, hey man, that's cool.

In spite of the differences between gulaman and gelatin, gulaman can (and should) be used in many of the same ways as gelatin. For example, gulaman lends itself particularly well to the following gelatin-friendly applications:

While I would have loved to experiment with the first two items on that list (especially the wrastlin'!), I only had enough gulaman to try my hand at edible cocktails.

There's always room for G-U-L-A-M-A-N.

While this LA Times article provides great examples of edible cocktails, I used this recent recipe from Sunset Magazine as my inspiration for my own jellied cocktails. The Sunset recipe combined rangpur lime juice, gelatin, and tequila for a margarita-like gel cocktail, whereas I just subbed in Kalamansi juice and gulaman for the rangpur and gelatin.

"Gulaman" and "Agar" are technically the same thing (both being made from red seaweed), but I've found that they are usually packaged differently in stores. Gulaman can be found in various forms at most Asian markets. It can come in solid bar form, powdered, or even in flakes. There is even flavored gulaman in packages similar to jello boxes, emblazoned with whatever fruit it's supposed to taste like. However, I couldn't find any unflavored packages labeled as "gulaman" but I was able to find packets of a Thai brand of Agar-Agar powder that contained no artificial flavors or colors--it was just plain and simple agar powder.

Agar-agar powder powder

Generally speaking, 1 teaspoon of Agar powder is needed per 1 cup of liquid. But because I've never worked with gulaman or agar before, I was worried that the acid in the kalamansi juice or the alcohol in the tequila would interfere with everything setting up.

So I decided to double up on the Agar powder on my first run-through for my recipe (4 teaspoons of agar, 2 cups of liquid). Although everything tasted fine with this ratio, the texture was just too firm. So I made another batch, this time with 2 teaspoons of agar to 2 cups of liquid, and the texture was just right--lots of wobble and wiggle but still firm enough to grasp with the fingers. Ultimately, I found that neither the kalamansi juice nor the tequila interfered with the solution firming up into a gel.

I can certainly attest to the strength of these little shooters, I popped a few and did get a nice little buzz going. While I used tequila in my recipe, I think gin or vodka would work just as well--especially if you make your own Kalamansi-Infused Vodka.

And for those of you who only associate jello shots with college tomfoolery and shenanigans (ah, good times), well, I can't really blame you. But if you do your jelly shots right and dress them up a bit, you can serve them as fancy-pants hors d'oeuvres at your own fancy-pants dinner party.

Ooooh lar lar! Dixie cup upgrade!

Kalamansi Gulaman Shooters

Serves 6-10

2 teaspoons Agar-Agar powder (can be found at Asian market)
1/2 cup water
1 cup fresh kalamansi juice
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup silver tequila
Sea salt for sprinkling (optional), Ilocano sea salt if you've got it

In a small saucepan, combine the agar-agar powder and water and allow to sit for 10 minutes. Add 1/2 cup of the kalamansi juice and all of the sugar to the pan. Bring pan to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer for 5 minutes, stirring continuously with a rubber spatula and ensuring the sugar dissolves.

Remove pan from heat, then pour contents into a separate bowl. Add the rest of the kalamansi juice to the bowl and continue to stir. Place the bowl over an ice bath and continue stirring vigorously until mixture cools to the touch, 1-2 minutes (you just want it to cool down enough so you can add the tequila without cooking out any of the alcohol).

Once the juice mixture has cooled to the touch (you can stick your finger in it without saying "ouch"), add the tequila. The mixture will immediately begin setting up and stiffening, but keep stirring vigorously to ensure tequila is incorporated.

Pour the mixture into a loaf pan lined with plastic wrap.

Allow the mixture to harden at room temperature, about 10 minutes. You can also place the hardened gulaman into the refrigerator if you'd like, but once set, it will not melt at room temperature.

When you are ready to serve, pull the gulaman out of the pan by lifting the plastic wrap. Slice the gulaman into bite-sized cubes and serve on a large platter, or in individual salt-rimmed shot glasses.

Stay Classy!

A Bun in the Oven (& Some Ensaimada Too)

2009-03-22T20:17:35-07:00

Some changes have been in the works here at the Burnt Lumpia Worldwide Headquarters over the past few weeks and months. Most recently, the wife and I have been shuffling things from room to room to make room for other things--if that makes sense.

We've pretty much been emptying and clearing out our home office (which was originally an extra bedroom). I've shifted my work desk out of the office and into the breakfast nook next to our kitchen (now making that space more conducive to food blogging). And since there was nowhere else to stow the rest of my office junk, our guestroom is now a guestroom/storage room (now making that space more conducive to shorter visits from my parents. I'm kidding. Kind of.).

And what about the now empty room formerly known as our "office"?

We're turning it into a nursery!

Yes, I'm happy to announce that the wife and I are expecting our first child! "Baby Lumpia" is due in early August, and yes, we do know the sex of the baby--though I think I'll keep that bit of information under wraps, for now at least. Obviously, I've been holding on to this good news for a while now and waiting for the right time to share it with everyone here. But with all the crazy goings-on needed to prepare for a baby (A BABY!), I've been a bit distracted to say the least.

To celebrate the wife's growing belly (and appetite), I decided to bake... a bun in the oven of course! The particular buns I attempted to bake are actually sweet Filipino brioche rolls called Ensaimada.

I know, baking isn't exactly my forte here. I've never baked any sort of bread before, let alone Ensaimada. But I've never had a kid before either. I figure that if I can make a decent Filipino Ensaimada, I've got a decent chance at learning how to change a diaper--both activities involve a great deal of softened butter (insert rimshot here).

With a new baby and all, at least there will be someone besides myself that finds great amusement in poop jokes. At least that's my hope...

A topping of butter, sugar, and cheese. How very Filipino.

Ensaimada come to the Philippines by way of Spain, Majorca to be exact. The main difference nowadays between Majorcan Ensaimadas and Filipino Ensaimadas is that the Spanish variety are made with pork lard, while the Filipino type are made with butter--a funny twist considering the Filipino penchant for pork. And to top it all off, Filipino Ensaimadas usually have a healthy slathering of extra butter, as well as a sprinkling of sugar and grated cheese (Edam, AKA quezo de bola) on its crown.

Initially, I had two Filipino Ensaimada recipes to choose from when I started: a recipe from Saveur Magazine, and a recipe in the Memories Of Philippine Kitchens cookbook. While the Saveur Magazine Ensaimada recipe looked delicious, I decided against it because it required 22 egg yolks (Twenty-effing-two!). So I went with the recipe from Memories Of Philippine Kitchens because its Ensaimada required a more manageable nine egg yolks, plus three whole eggs.

References galore for Ensaimada and Brioche.

Aside from the two legitimate Filipino recipes I had for ensaimada, I also had quite a few cookbooks with brioche recipes to lean on as well (Remember, ensaimada is a type of brioche). I gleaned a lot of useful brioche tips from Alton Brown, Shirley O. Corriher, and Harold McGee--a veritable triumvirate of food science!

Anyhizzle, with all the sciencey and geeky info I had, I made a few adjustments to the procedure from the Memories Of Philippine Kitchens recipe, though most of the ingredients and amounts are the same. The biggest change I made was in the first rise of the dough--I let mine go for 2.5 hours instead of just the hour suggested in the cookbook. I feel this longer initial rise helps develop more flavor in the dough. And don't worry about getting a sour tasting dough from too long of a rise--it would take a few days (at least) to overferment the dough using only commercial dry active yeast.

Although the only Ensaimada I've ever had are the overly buttery and sweet mass-produced ones from Goldilocks, I must say that the Ensaimada I cranked out were divine. They were heavy, dense, and chewy, but not gummy like commercial Ensaimadas tend to be. The saltiness of the cheese and the sweetness of the bun itself, with the sugar sprinkled on top, were a nice counterpoint. And in addition to the traditional Ensaimadas with Edam cheese rolled into the dough, I also made a couple with cinnamon and sugar, and a couple with macapuno.

All in all, I was especially pleased with the texture of the finished buns. My Ensaimada were rich, though more bready than cakey. The crumb structure was also tender and flaky, with a beautiful pale yellow hue. Even though we know the gender of our baby, I think I'm leaning away from painting the nursery pink or blue. A pale yellow nursery seems more fitting, Ensaimada Yellow perhaps.

Mellow Yellow.

Filipino Ensaimada

Adapted from Memories of Philippine Kitchens

Makes 12 sweet brioche rolls

Dough:
2 envelopes active dry yeast
3/4 cup milk, warmed (105 degrees F--110 degrees F)
1 tablespoon, plus 4 tablespoons sugar
3 cups all-pupose flour
2 cups bread flour
4 teaspoons salt
3 whole eggs
9 egg yolks
3 sticks unsalted butter, cut into pieces and softened at room temperature

Filling (all are optional):
Grated Edam cheese
Cinnamon and brown sugar
Macapuno (coconut strings)

Topping:
Milk: for brushing on top before baking
Softened butter: for brushing on top after baking
Sugar: for sprinkling
Grated Edam cheese: for sprinkling

In the work bowl of an electric stand mixer, combine the yeast, warmed milk, and 1 tablespoon of sugar. Stir with a spoon to combine and let sit for 3-5 minutes until mixture is foamy.

In a separate large bowl, sift together the remaining 4 tablespoons sugar, all-purpose flour, bread flour, and salt. Stir to combine. Add the flour mixture to the yeast mixture and beat with the paddle attachment of your mixer for 2-3 minutes. In a medium bowl, beat the eggs and egg yolks together. Add the eggs to the dough and continue mixing on medium speed for 3-5 minutes more, until dough just comes together (you may have to scrape down the sides of your bowl and your paddle a couple of times before everything is combined).

At this point, the dough is pretty tough, but your mixer can handle it.

After the dough just comes together, remove it from the stand mixer and place the dough on a lightly floured surface. Roll out the dough until it is about 1/4-inch thick.

Place half of the butter in the middle of the dough, then fold over one side of the dough onto the butter.

Place the other half of the butter onto the middle of the dough, then fold over the other side of the dough onto the butter.

Fold the dough into a little package or ball shape, and place back into the work bowl of the stand mixer. (This way of incorporating the butter ensures that it actually gets into the dough. If you just added the butter a tablespoon at a time to a running mixer, most of the butter ends up on the walls of the work bowl and on the outside of the dough, rather than on the inside. I learned this tip from Alton Brown's brioche recipe.)

Exchange the paddle for the dough hook on your stand mixer, and knead the dough and butter for 10-15 minutes on medium speed until butter is well incorporated and the dough becomes glossy and elastic--you may have to scrape down the bowl and hook a few times.

Remove the dough from the work bowl and roll into uniform ball. Add the dough, seam side down, to another large bowl that has been lightly greased (I sprayed my bowl with nonstick spray). Loosely cover the bowl with plastic wrap and allow the dough to rise until it has doubled in volume, 1-3 hours depending on how warm your kitchen is.

After the dough has doubled in size, punch it down, roll it into a ball again, then place back into the greased bowl and cover with plastic wrap. Place the covered bowl into the refrigerator overnight.

The next day, pinch off 24 balls from the dough, each about 2-inches in diameter. Place the dough balls on a cookie sheet and cover loosely with plastic wrap. Allow the dough balls to rise again for another hour.

Balls. Of Dough.

Roll out a ball of dough on a lightly floured surface until the dough is about 12x4 inches. Sprinkle your filling of choice (cheese, cinnamon and sugar, macapuno) in the center of the rolled out dough.

I go easy on the cheese.

Roll the dough over the filling lengthwise into a rope shape about 14-inches long. Repeat with the rest of the dough balls until you have 24 ropes.

1 Rope.

2 Ropes. Braided.

Take two of the ropes and twist them around each other to braid them. Repeat with the other ropes until you have 12 sets of braids. Then form each of the braids into a spiral shape, making sure to tuck in each of the ends--should kinda look like a turban. Place each spiral into a greased fluted brioche mold, or into a greased 4-5 inch tart ring.

However, the kitchen at the Burnt Lumpia Worldwide Headquarters is apparently ill-equipped for fancy-pants baking as I have no brioche molds or tart rings. So I just went commando-style and placed my coils sans support on a parchment-lined cookie sheet.

Here to let you know boy, oh boy.
I make dough, but don't call me Doughboy.

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. Brush the top of each of the Ensaimada rolls with some milk, then place in the oven for 10-15 minutes, turning the pan halfway through. Bake until the rolls are golden brown on top (you can leave them in there for longer if you want them a deeper brown).

Remove the buns from the oven and let cool slightly. Brush the warm buns with the softened butter, then sprinkle on as much sugar and cheese as you'd like. Enjoy the ensaimada slathered with some jelly of your choice, with a cup of coffee or hot chocolate on the side, or all by its lonesome.

I stored the leftover Ensaimada in a big zip top bag and just left them out on the kitchen counter. I reheated them in the microwave for a few seconds whenever I wanted to eat one. Because of the relatively high sugar content in the dough, the Ensaimada won't go stale as fast as other types of bread. With that said, the wife and I, and indirectly the baby too I suppose, finished off all 12 of the Ensaimada in only a few days.

Good times.

Is your father a baker? Because those are the best buns I've ever seen.

In Like A Lion...

2009-03-08T23:45:24-07:00

As indicated by the three measly recipes I've posted so far this year (here, here, and here), I haven't been in the kitchen much as of late. My absence from the Burnt Lumpia Worldwide Headquarters Kitchen is not due to a lack of motivation or hunger (OK, maybe a little bit).

In all truthfulness though, my winter has been very, uh, eventful. As the saying goes, In like a lion... I suppose.

Note: Not an actual lion.

I've been generally busy, but the events that have really kept me out of the kitchen and away from my blog range from terribly bad (this economy is a mother-effing bitch!), to wonderfully good (woohoooo!). And yes, I'm being very vague on purpose--I'll share more later (maybe).

But I did want to check in and let everyone know that I'll be back to posting recipes regularly, answering comments, and visiting everyone's wonderful blogs very soon--I just have to catch my breath is all. Spring is just around the corner, better days ahead... out like a lamb.