Love and Fishes

I learned to cook in summer cooking schools. But I learned to live it, through my maternal grandmother, Paula Espiritu Lavina. She was born in a privileged family (they owned the first model T Ford in Marikina) of the de la Paz clan.

My great grandfather, however, died early before all his children had finished school. He was cleaning his car one day when it was hit from behind by a karitela. He was run over and died of gangrene.

Lola was the eldest daughter. Her older brother went on to become a lawyer, so lola studied and soon became a teacher. She spoke Spanish and played the violin. Her other sibilings finished school too, with her and her brother's help.

But her best achievements (for me) came after marriage to Lolo, Filimon Lavina. Lola's cooking was famous.

I will digress at this point to note that you may get horribly bored at the manner in which I am writing this. It sounds like any other pedestrian who likes to boast of his lineage because he has nothing else to commend him. These people have many stories of how great their ancestors were, how large their lands or holdings or -- this is what kills me -- the fact that they have foreign blood, the most common being Spanish or Chinese.


So as I started writing this, I noticed, with growing alarm that I have become one of those whom I have maligned under my breath. Those people who boast of relations to this or that hero, or of coming from a mestizo family. So I have taken great care to limit the narrations of how great my forebears are. As far as I can tell, I have no national heroes lurking in the family tree unless you count Lolo Imon and Papa's wartime exploits as guerillas. We do have the occasional criminal, failures, priests (I just had to throw that in) and dead ends. But I guess thats a story for another time.

My point is, it is one thing to establish pride for the past -- our country is glorious with it-- but it is also necessary to keep making successes too. It is also necessary to establish a credible past and one that is not fraught with colonialism. I'm not proud of the fact that my paternal greatgrandmother was probably sired by a priest, but there you have it. One cannot deny the green eyes. Its a fact. But being proud of light skin and a Caucasian ancestor as though it were superior is another thing altogether.

Ok, rant over.

Lola's cooking was well known among relatives. Her kitchen, a 1950s renovation had the best and latest technology, but she also had two wood burning stoves out in the back. The traditional brick and stone open oven and an American style iron one. She would buy the freshest ingredients from the market, opting to have chickens slaughtered in the backyard to guarantee freshness. Fish were checked for eye clarity, smell, plimpness and firmness. The backyard had fruit trees and herbs some of whose bounty went straight into the pot.

Lola's daughters all imbibed this love for cooking, with each of my aunts and my mother developing their own specialties, work schedules notwithstanding.

When I began cooking for real -- no cheating with store bought pre-cooked viands -- it was Lola who provided recipes and took me in hand for a step by step demonstration. And no matter how old I was or how infirm she had become, if I asked for her palitaw, she would find a way to make me some.

What follows is Lola's recipe for tulingan -- mackerel -- known as a Batangas specialty, but one which she perfected. Lola insisted on the real thing.

Method
Clean the mackerel and remove innards. Press the fish flat using a butcher cleaver and salt them individually. Line clay pot with banana leaves. Make a small tray or stand using barbecue sticks woven together and place it on the floor of your clay pot. Line the pot with sun dried kamias.

Arrange fish in clay pot (you may want to wrap each individually) making sure each piece is sprinkled with peeled and pounded garlic, pork fat and pepper corns. cover with more kamias.

Add water enough to cover, top with banana leaves and cover with clay lid. Boil slowly with low heat until 80 oercent of the water evaporates. Add more water and allow to evaporate again.

Some serve tulingan by lightly frying first, to seal in the flavors. The remaining liquid may be used as a fish sauce.

Love Pie

We do know that Adam was tempted by Eve with an apple. Though archeologists would tell us that isn't likely to be so. Since the tale originated with the desert peoples/civilizations, Genesis' fruit of the Tree of Knowledge was probable a fig. Apples would not find their way to the region until much, much later.

Still, given that its heart month, the apple does look like it could be an ideal aphrodisiac. Its red, sweet, juicy and thus by salacious association, fulfills the main premise of Valentine's that love=sex. Hah. Women know better, though, they let men suffer the illusion until after marriage. Now, where was I? O yes, apples.

Nutritionally, apples aren't bursting with vitamins as most fruits are. But they do contain antioxidant phytochemicals. Dr. Barry Sears in his book, "The Top 100 Zone Foods" says "Apples are a good source of soluble fiber especially pectin which helps control insulin levels by lowering insulin secretion."

Wiccan traditions hold the apple in special reverence since it can be used in various spells. Think Snow White and her poisoned apple. However, I have known some grimoirs that consistently use apples for love spells. The simplest one goes thus:

Enchanted Apple Spell

Pick a half green/half-red apple when the Moon has waned three days. Breath upon its green cheek, rub it with a scarlet cloth, saying:Fire sweet

And fire red,

warm the heart

And turn the head.



Kiss the red half, put it later in another's hand. Who holds it shall weaken, who eats it shall be yours as long as you can keep them.

The Philippines imports all its apples, primarily from China, thus making the saying, "As American as apple pie" a dinosaur in a globalized economy,  But, since apples easily deteriorate in a tropical country -- they require refrigeration -- many Filipinos enjoy apple in pastries and pies.  This one is my favorite.
 
Apple Pie
Pastry
2 C flour
1/4t salt
2/3 C butter or butter compoound (cold)
water
 
Filling
5 large apples sliced (not too thinly)
1t cinnamon
1t nutmeg
1/4C white sugar
1/4C brown sugar
1T flour
 
Sift flour and salt together. Cut butter into flour until it forms pea sized balls. Spray with cold water and form into a ball. Knead very lightly only until the mix sticks together in one ball. Divide ball into two. Roll each ball flat and line pie pan, Reserve the other half for the top portion of the pie. Puncture with small holes or cuts, Keep cold.
 
It is important not to knead the pastry. This is not a bread. For the pie crust to be light and flaky, you will need an equally light touch. Remember to work quickly since butter melting into the flour will cause the pastry shell to be tough or hard. While doing your filling, keep the pastry in the ref.
 
Mix all dry ingredients together. Put a single layer of apples in pastry lined pie plate, sprinkle dry mixture over it. Alternate layers of apples with the mixture making sure all apples are covered. The top layer should be covered with dry mixture.
 
Cover with top pastry and seal the sides with your fingers or a fork.  Make generous cuts in the top pastry so that the excess water will evaporate gently and preserve the flavors in the pie.
 
Bake in preheated oven at 400deg for about 40 minutes or until pastry is evenly light brown in color.

Valentine Opiates

There is no lover like chocolate. He is sweet, dark, sometimes dangerous. He whispers softly as I unwrap him. He caresses my tongue and gently juices flow.
I smell him and he fills my mind. My blood races. Month after month, I crave him. Sometimes he comes with gifts, sweet cherry liquid, soft caramel, almonds...
I have no lover but chocolate...

Chocolate contains chemicals that reproduce the effects of marijuana. The combinations also produce a euphoric feeling sort of like falling in love.

Ellen Kuwana of the website Neuroscience for Kids says "Researchers at the Neurosciences Institute in San Diego, Emmanuelle diTomaso (she's now at Harvard University) and Daniele Piomelli (he's now at the University of California, Irvine) looked into the chemical components of chocolate. They found three substances in chocolate that 'could act as cannabinoid mimics either directly (by activating cannabinoid receptors) or indirectly (by increasing anandamide levels).'"

No small wonder then that chocolates form an intrinsic part of the Valentine's rituals. Although I must warn the readers that chocolate has a limited effect. The chemicals are not sufficient to produce actual marijuana-type "highs" or "euphorias." Maybe the flowers are contributory, and you need all the ingredients for the full effect. Nevertheless, I would not suggest a Valentine celebration without both chocolates and flowers.

For those who intend to stay home, though. One can be consoled with chocolate recipes. The way I see it, if there are enough cannabinoid-like compounds in your food, who needs a date?

This is my favorite brownie recipe -- no it has no opioids other than cocoa powder! Its pretty easy, I've been baking this solo since I was nine.

Ingredients


¾ cup butter (room temp)
1+½ cup sugar
2 teaspoon vanilla
3 eggs
¾ cup all-purpose flour
½ cup cocoa powder
1 teaspoon baking powder
a pinch of salt (optional)
1/2 cup chopped nuts (cashew, pecans or walnuts) optional
Directions:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Cream butter and suger. Add eggs mix well, then add vanilla. Add in all dry ingredients except nuts and mix well. Add nuts if any.
Grease a 13x9 inch pan. Pour in mixture. Bake at 350 degrees for about 20 to thirty minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.

Cool, dust with powdered sugar, if desired.

Sweet Tooth, Duck Eggs and Churches

There is no truth to the rumor that Prof Vic is known as Torres the Terror to his students. In fact he's a sweetheart. Or at least, we know he must be partly made of sugar -- local, not imported. Today he shares his leche flan recipe.

Leche flan is a dessert I always love to cook. This is a recipe that my mother taught me using a bit of a shortcut method. The original recipe called for three eggs only and sometimes included the white of one of the eggs as a “binder.” However, the white leaves the custard looking like Swiss cheese so I shifted to using egg yolks only. Friends and family who had tasted it said it was better. I don't use grated dayap rind (although some say it gives the leche flan a bit of a bite) But then again, to each his own taste.
Modern technology has brought the steamer and the rice cooker to the kitchen which made cooking leche flan easier. If there's no steamer or rice cooker, I use a large deep pot in which I place an upside down ceramic or metal bowl inside to put the llanera on then pour in a glass or two of water. However, this takes a longer time to cook and one has to guard the pot constantly to prevent the water from totally evaporating.
Unfortunately, the two best brands of condensed milk in the market (Alaska and Carnation) seems to have cut costs and their product only comes out in small cans now. But I still use the medium-sized cans (300 ml, I think it was) of different brands of condensed milk and, so far, the taste was not affected.
By the way, don't ask me what I do with the egg whites. Never did figured out what to do with it. I am not in the middle of building a house or church anyway so there's no mortar to mix it with.

Take six eggs. Separate the yolks from the white. Store whites in the ref. Beat the egg yolks until a bit bubbly then pour in one medium-sized can of condensed milk. Stir until well-blended. Instead of adding water or additional milk, what I do is just I put a little water in the condensed milk can then stir to get the residue then pour it in the mixture.
Get a llanera then put in a couple of tablespoons of white sugar. Caramelize the sugar over low flame. Be careful not to burn the sugar or it will taste bitter. (Burnt sugar in leche flan is yucky.) Remove from flame and pour in egg and milk mixture before the caramel stiffens. Place llanera in steamer. If you are using a rice cooker steamer, use the measuring cup of the rice cooker to pour a cup and half of water inside the pot. Steam until a knife inserted in the custard comes out clean.
Loosen leche flan from llanera with a knife then turnover on a serving dish. Enjoy.

Vic's consternation over what to do with the remaining egg whites, notwithstanding, I couldn't resist reproducing this article I wrote for the inquirer.net, two years ago.  However to those who do want something to do with the egg whites, I will be adding in a recipe soon for blitz torte, a merienda cake I learned from Mrs. Ruth Guingona, former Second Lady of this Republic.

Meanwhile:

An Omelet Heritage

A country without a memory, is a country of madmen. -- George Santayana

If all uninformed tour guides are to be believed, our churches are held together with cement and egg white like the confections they are. In my former life as NCCA’s legal conservationist, I’ve had some side-ripping tourist moments as some enthusiastic guide with more guesswork than research attempted to explain their history factoids with gossip and superstition.
Philippine churches are primary tourism targets and a booming industry surrounds them. Unlike many of their European counter-parts, these churches remain in use, and are thus showcases of continuing history. Over thirty of them have been declared national cultural treasures and World Heritage Sites.
Because of renewed interest in these structures, the informality of accreditation systems for tour guides (not to mention the downright politics of some of their appointments) and too few sources of information on the histories of both the locales and structures, too many have taken up occupations as “tour guides” using savvy business sense and not much else. The result is a disastrous mish mash of misinformation that often bewilders the educated and damages the uninformed.

A common theme among these guides is a small but significant footnote in the construction methods of these churches. Too many times, I have heard a guide say that the churches are made of adobe and were put together using egg whites, which gave rise to local delicacies like the leche flan. To my consternation, this was uttered during a local government-sponsored tour of Iloilo. The guide was referring to the sandstone Miag-ao Church, a World Heritage Site, which has no record of being built with egg whites and is nowhere near a source of adobe. We do know that it is held together with a lime plaster.

Lime plasters were mixed with various materials, according to the Philippine expert on ecclesiastical heritage, Ricky Jose, among them crushed shells, sand, lime, water, animal blood and yes, in some instances, duck eggs. National Museum restoration engineer Orlando Abinion adds that animal manure was also used in some instances. It is the duck eggs that perhaps led to the belief that egg whites were used.

Jose however says that the records are unclear on whether the whole duck egg or just its egg white was mixed in with the plaster. While there is no clear correlation between the building of the churches and delicacies made of egg yolk such as yema, tocino del cielo and leche flan, it’s certainly a tantalizing idea. This is not enough, however, to say that all churches are built of adobe and egg whites.
In fact, not all churches were built of adobe. Their locations usually determined the material to be used. Churches in Manila and some from the Southern Tagalog regions were made of adobe, which can still be sourced in these areas, the best of which still comes from Bulacan. When the Intramuros walls were being restored in the 1970s, new blocks of adobe were cut to fill in portions of the walls that had been removed. To ensure authenticity, the stone masons were trained to cut the adobe stone in the same manner as the original stone of the walls were cut.

In the Visayas and parts of Mindanao, many of the churches are made of coral stone, save for others like Miag-ao’s Sto. Tomas de Villanueva, which is of sandstone. Others are made of volcanic rock and still others were built using river stone held together with the lime plaster. Others were built with a combination of these materials and locally produced brick, such as those beautiful churches in Northern Luzon. If one looks carefully, the remains of the large hornos (ovens) in which these bricks were baked can still be seen on church grounds. The Tumauini Church is a symphony in various sizes of brick made for the purpose.
However, if we must insist that our churches were built with eggs, the records say that the dome of the Church of the Immaculate Conception, the former parish of the Intramuros now better known as the Manila Cathedral, was sealed in 1780 with a mixture of lime, powdered brick, duck eggs and bamboo sap, again according to Ricky Jose. Two hundred duck eggs are also said to have to have been used on a convento in Imus.
As far as old churches go in various places in the country, I hear many local tour guides who love to boast that their church is the oldest in the Philippines. However, if the church is not located in Intramuros, then it’s not likely to be true. According to curator of the San Agustin church museum, Father Pedro Galende, OJA, two churches were built at the time Miguel Lopez de Legazpi occupied the area that was Raja Matanda’s former fort, now known as the Intramuros.
These two churches were San Agustin and what is now the Manila Cathedral. The original church of San Agustin, made of wood and nipa, was built in 1571. The structure burned down in 1574 after the raids directed by the pirate Lima Hong. The structure that was rebuilt also burned down in 1583, when the draperies caught fire during the wake of Governador Ganzalvo Ronquillo. After the structure burned down again in 1586, the Agustinian provincial met with his council and they passed a resolution ordering the building of a stone church.
This stone church, whose construction began in 1591 was finished in 1607, is the same structure standing in

Intramuros today. It was declared a World Heritage Site and acknowledged as the oldest church in the country.
This bit of history notwithstanding, the funniest tour guide comment I have ever had the privilege to hear is this nugget from a Northern Luzon guide: “Our church is the oldest church in the entire country. Even before the Spaniards came, it was already there.”

Becher-de-mer

Dr. Albert Lee is back with pulutan, having gotten a craving for it after reading Drink of Angels.
The doctor is in!
Becher-de-mer, the fancy French name for sea slugs or sea cucumbers, are marine animals used in oriental cuisines. it's called namako in japan, and balatan in the Philippines. In china, it is also called sea ginseng because of its "medicinal values." It is considered to be an aphrodisiac by some believers (I ain't one of them). It's a "yang" food (as in yin and yang). Sea slug dishes are usually served along with the other high-end Chinese food in banquets such as shark fin's soup, bird's nest soup, abalone, Peking duck etc.

When I was growing up in the town of Sorsogon (now a city) in Sorsogon province, Bicol region, Philippines, my cousins and I would go down the ocean floor during low tides looking for live sea shells, crabs, and sea cucumber. These items were in abundance then. I heard that nowadays this is no longer the case because of pollution. Peoples have destroyed the very habitat for a food source that have sustained them for generations. Many other places are suffering from the same fate. The Philippine coral reefs, so important in marine ecology, is partially damaged and will take decades for it to recover.

Sorsogon city has a pier called rompeolas where ships from Manila and other places docks and unload their cargo. On their return trips, they carry hemp and copra for export to America and other countries. The pier was also our favorite fishing spot where we used to catch rock lapu-lapu (grouper). We would spend hours fishing and dreaming about taking long voyages to far away lands. I wonder if the descendants of those fish are still living in those craggy rocks around the pier.

One does not need to wander very far outside Manila to see the ravages of human pollution. Look at the Pasig river that divides Metro Manila into two. The river used to be an important transport route during the Spanish occupation but is now so polluted it is considered dead by the ecologist. Ironically, the river is right in the backyard of Malacanang Palace, the seat of power, where, with political will something could have been done to remedy the problems during previous administrations. Rhetoric about rehabilitation was aplenty in the past but nothing was ever carried into actions. It is only recently, with public outcry, that rehabilitation is being taken up.
Sea cucumbers are usually harvested, dried and traded in places like China, Hong Kong, Singapore, Korea,and Japan. In Palawan, Philippines, sea cucumbers are being cultured and sold to the different countries mentioned above.
For home consumption, sea cucumber can be purchased dried or the re-hydrated type ready for use. Let's stick to the re-hydrated type for our home cooking because the dried ones will take days to prepare and I don't want to discourage anyone from trying to prepare this dish because of time constraint.

There are only a few basic items you will need to prepare this dish. Be adventurous and do it at least once just for the fun of it. If you have never eaten sea cucumber before, you may want to try it in a restaurant to see whether you like it or not before attempting to prepare it yourself. Gelatinous food likes cooked pork or beef tendon is also an acquired taste. I know of many friends of mine who don't care much about eating such stuff.

This recipe calls for the following:

1 kilo of re-hydrated cucumber

1 can of abalone, set aside the juice. Slice the abalone into thin slices

6 pieces of dried black Chinese mushroom, pre-soaked, ready for use

scallions, minced

1 tablespoon of soy sauce

1/2 cup of cooking wine

salt to taste

garlic, minced


Slow cook the sea cucumber in 4 cups of chicken stock for 1 hour or until it is tender, adding more stock if needed. Bring to a boil, then add the mushrooms, soy, cooking wine, salt, garlic and the juice from the canned abalone. When the sea cucumber is tender enough, you will notice that the juice will become gelatinous. For a thicker juice, add a teaspoon of tapioca flour dissolved in water. Put the dish in a platter lined with leafy lettuce (for good presentation only), place the sliced abalone on top and garnish with the scallions. You may also want to arrange the mushrooms around the platter for good appearance or some pre-boiled baby bok choy as the sapin. Serve with white rice. Sea cucumber is rich in iron, calcium, magnesium and zinc. Some people claimed it is good for people suffering from arthritis.
Kain tayo!

Drink of Angels

The district of San Miguel in the City of Manila is genteel and old world. In the shadow of Malacanang palace, the houses are well preserved, though unlike their storied past, must now contend with growing colonies of informal settlers. At its heart is the Church of San Miguel where mass confirmations are regularly held. It is dominated by figures of the archangels with Michael predominant and triumphant over a serpentine Lucifer.

It is the district for which what is touted as "the national beer" is named. It was founded by Don Enrique Ma. Barretto de Ycaza in 1890 as La Fabrica de Cerveza de San Miguel. Barretto later took on a partner, Don Pedro Pablo Roxas, who brought with him a German brewmaster. San Miguel's brew won its first major award at 1895's Philippines Regional Exposition, and led its imported competitors by a five-to-one margin by the turn of the 20th century. The company was incorporated in 1913 following the death of Don Pedro Roxas.

The story goes that in World War II, the Americans pursued the retreating Japanese through Manila, but made a detour to free the District of San Miguel, before pushing on to Ermita and ultimately the Intramuros dead end. But it wasn't a tactical detour. The thirsty GIs wanted some of the beer. And they got it, after liberating the area, drawing them from the factory taps into their helmets. There was also an ice plant in the nearby district and that fit in wonderfully with these last minute plans.

It may have been just as well. The battles that followed go down in history as the bloodiest of that war, with civilian casualties soaring, particularly in the Intramuros. It was also during this time, when the carpet bombing of Manila increased in ferocity, with lamentable destruction -- the National Museum, for instance, took a direct hit and thousands of the country's artifacts and relics were reduced to ash and rubble.

The consumption of beer and other alcohol is so ingrained in Philippine customs, it comes with its own etiquette. An invitation to drink is extended to any person, stranger or not, and it is insulting to the drinkers, to be refused. Many a crime has been comitted in the name of such a refusal. Why this is so, requires some investigation, however.

For most Filipinos, eating and drinking are communal activities. Eating alone, even in modern times like today, will elicit unkind comments from the more traditional minded. In Tayabas, Quezon, there are particular phrases one must use to accept a drink, to pass on a round and to make one's excuses to leave the group. Failure to observe these practices rankle on the host and the other drinkers. Some theorize that ancient Filipinos were a classless society or one where mobility was always possible through industry and later, education. However, the growing class distinctions during the Spanish colonization, drew responses from the masses. An invitation to drink, when denied is considered an insult because person refusing is believed to be too snobbish to join in, or perhaps a bit wary of sharing a communal cup. Of course, the state of inebriation of the drinkers would also be a major factor in determining just how fatal the insult would be. .

Beer Making

Beer is made using water, fermented sugar, hops and yeast. Bryce Edding of about.com says:

Malt

Every beer begins with barley grain. Each grain is a seed and contains all the chemical properties to sprout into a full barley plant under the right conditions. It is the maltster’s job to manipulate this potential into a usable product for the brewer.
The process of malting barley involves tricking each grain into believing that it is time to sprout. This is easily done with a little warm water. The sprouting process activates enzymes in the grain that will later be used by the brewer in the mash. As soon as the barley begins to sprout the maltster quickly but gently dries it completely in a kiln putting the enzymes in suspension. The sprouts are removed and the remaining grains are sent on to the brewer.


Mash
When the malted barley reaches the brewer it is full of naturally occurring starches and the enzymes activated during the malting process. The brewer then takes the grains and adds them to a bath of warm water, typically between 148 and 158 degrees Fahrenheit. This is called a mash. It is at these temperatures that the enzymes are reactivated. A chemical reaction begins whereby the enzymes attack and break down the starches in the barley to simpler sugars. These sugars are the goal of the mash.
This is all done in a special brewer’s container called a lauter tun. The lauter tun is designed to contain the mash without leaking while being able to gently filter away the water through its bottom when the mashing process is complete. Lauter tuns are often insulated or use some other method to maintain a constant temperature mash.

Sparge
Once the brewer decides that most of the starches have been converted, which usually takes an hour or so, the temperature of the mash is raised to around 165 to 170 degrees Fahrenheit to halt the enzymatic process. Then the water is drained away and collected leaving behind a bed of grain. More warm water is sprinkled or sparged on to the grain bed at about 165 to 168 degrees Fahrenheit. This rinses more sugars from the grains. The water is then drained and collected with the original water from the mash. This water with sugars, unmodified starches and proteins dissolved or suspended in it is called wort.

Boil

The wort is then boiled. Boiling the wort improves the beer in a number of ways. It kills any enzymes remaining from the mash that could later make the beer unstable. It sterilizes the wort reducing the chances of contamination. It reduces the amount of water which increases the concentration of fermentable and unfermentable material extracted from the grain. The fermentable sugars will be converted to alcohol during fermentation and the unfermentable sugars and proteins will contribute to the final beer’s color, head, aroma, mouthfeel, and flavor.
Hops are generally added during the boil which extracts the resins and oils. Hops added early during the boil contribute a bitter flavor to the beer which is valuable because they add a balance to sweetness from the unfermentable sugars. Hops added to some beers during the final minutes of the boil contribute aromas and very little bitter flavor to the beer.

Fermentation

Next the wort is cooled to 46 to 55 degrees Fahrenheit for lagers and 60 to 78 degrees Fahrenheit for ales. It is then transferred to a sterile fermentation container where the yeast is added. Yeast is a living organism that feeds on sugar. The byproducts of the lifecycle of yeast are alcohol and carbon dioxide. At the top of the fermentation tank is an airlock that both allows the CO2 to escape and prevents foreign material from entering. It will usually take a day or two for active fermentation to become evident. Most fermentation is completed within seven to fourteen days.

Aging

The beer is then drained off of the yeast sediment that collects at the bottom of the fermentation tank and transferred to a secondary lagering or aging container. Ales are usually aged in the secondary container for one to four weeks. During this time any remaining material drops out of suspension clearing the beer. Aging also blends and mellows the flavors. Lagers are similarly aged for months, some even up to a year, at very cool temperatures.

Carbonation

The result is bright, or uncarbonated, beer. There are two ways to carbonate beer. Natural carbonation involves transferring the beer to it final container – bottles, casks, or kegs – and just before sealing it adding a small but measured amount of sugar. There is enough yeast that remains suspended in the beer that this little bit of sugar will be fermented. This will not significantly contribute to the alcoholic content of the beer but in the sealed container the second byproduct of fermentation, CO2, has no place to go and so is absorbed by the beer. This method of carbonating beer is popular among homebrewers that typically don’t have the equipment to force carbonate their beer. It is also the correct way to carbonate certain styles of beer such as hefe-weizen.

Forced carbonation is the method preferred by many breweries. Before the beer is packaged it is filtered and pasteurized. This removes or kills any yeast that might have been in suspension. It results in a more stable product than natural fermentation. The CO2 gas is then forced into the beer container before it is sealed where the beer will absorb it.

Cabuyao, Laguna Dinuguan

Reader Jose Victor Torres is a historian, professor and part-time humorist on Facebook. Really. Check out his dinuguan memories, which for some reason, I share. My maternal grandfather grew up in the same town.
Warning: Do not read while hungry.


Cabuyao, with its traffic, convenience stores, and fastfood diners, isn't the Laguna town I once knew.
Old Cabuyao was a bucolic place with a Spanish colonial church and bahay na bato structures. There were still horse-pulled kalesas (carriages) mingling with the infrequent jeepneys on the main thoroughfare. A common street sound day and night was the clip-clop of shod hooves clip-clopping on asphalted roads that ended in dirt trails leading to ricefields and coconut plantations.

Old Cabuyao meant good, old-fashioned cooking.

There were atcharas - grated green papayas; peeled small, red sibuyas tagalog; white, pungent garlic cloves; thinly-sliced carrot rounds; and, red bell pepper strips pickled in a boiled vinegar and sugar solution.
There were kakanins - the sinukmani (boiled sticky rice with coconut milk and brown sugar) and halayang ube (grated ube tubers mashed and boiled with condensed milk) served mounded on oval, plastic platters.
But my most unforgettable Cabuyao fare is dinuguan - a dark brown soup chunky with the meat from pig heads cooked so unlike the thick, dry dinuguan dishes of other regions
Going to Cabuyao was a yearly affair. But ever since I got married and had my own family, these visits became infrequent. The death of the family cooks – two spinster aunts – some time ago meant the loss of the unique recipes I loved.
Modern things have, hence, come to the old town. The South Luzon Expressway made the trip from Manila and back easier. Subdivisions were now built on the ricefields and coconut plantations. More people meant more cars and jeepneys. Cabuyao grew from a quiet town to a city-like municipality. The old town’s not quite the same anymore.

I recently went back to Cabuyao for a family reunion. An aunt arrived from America for a visit and the relatives decided to hold a get-together in the backyard of the old house where I used to spend my summer vacations. The place once had a canteen managed by my two aunt-cooks, catering to students from a nearby school. But the school closed and my aunts had to shutter up their canteen as well although they continued to cook until their demise, sharing the benefits of old-fashioned recipes to aunts, uncles, cousins, nephews and nieces; and, later, grandchildren.

The house directly faced the main street and we got the full blast of traffic noise from the dozens of tricycles, jeepneys, and cars. I muttered to my sister, Lisa, how much the place had changed.

Merienda time. My cousin, Kuya Nato, came out from the kitchen carrying a stock pot. He set it down on a small table, removed the lid, and began to ladle the steaming contents into cups and bowls.
I recognized the dark, soupy viand. It was dinuguan, Cabuyao-style. Soup-cum-viand; our favorite snack. The sippy pulutan (appetizer) of the drinkers in the family. And, when the leftovers are scooped into clean jars and plastic bags, the delicious pasalubong (take-home food) for dinner and/or next day's breakfast.
Kuya Nato and his elder brother, Ding, were two of my cousins who preserved the dinuguan recipe. Although measured for a big party, adjustments can be made for small servings and tastes:
Boil a pig's head until flesh is tender. Remove head from the pot. Save the broth. Debone the head and cube the meat. In another pot, sauté garlic, onions, and tomatoes. Add the meat. Simmer. Pour in some of the broth enough to make the dish soupy. Add vinegar, the amount of which will depend on one’s taste.
Strain the pig’s blood in a bowl to remove clots. Slowly add the blood to the cooking meat while stirring constantly. If the mixture thickens, add more broth. Season with salt and pepper. Simmer until done. For a spicier dish, add long green chili peppers.

I took a spoonful of the dinuguan. The meat was chewy. The black soup had a subtle hint of vinegar sourness. Then, for a moment, the traffic noise across the house disappeared. There was only the sound of kalesas. The bells from the tower of the old church began to ring - a slow, low clanging marking the end and the beginning of another hour. It was summer vacation and I could hear one of my spinster aunts puttering around the kitchen preparing the day's menu.

The old town has come alive again.