The Pilgrim’s Pots and Pans

Leftovers? What’s so appetising about leftovers?

Everything! That is if you’re in the Filipino kitchen.

It’s the perfect time to have all those leftovers for Lasang Pinoy 15: Recycled, Reloaded, which Mike is hosting at Lafang. I am also perhaps one of the best persons to talk about leftovers since they make up some of my best childhood memories.

Many Filipinos, rich and poor alike, hold celebrations for a child’s first and seventh birthdays. I really have not dug up the significance of these years but I suspect they have something to do with the transition from one stage of a child’s life to another which also correspond with their growing consciousness (from “wala pang muwang” or a total innocent to “may isip na” – capable of thought). To a certain extent, both the first and seventh years are rites of passage for both the child, whether male or female, and the parents.

It is for this reason that birthdays on these years are big events, not necessarily extravagant but certainly something planned and awaited. Relatives, neighbours and friends drop in on the party, more often than not also bringing food which means the celebration might stretch for days.

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Overseas Filipino Workers (OFWs) are hardly a new phenomenon. Historical documents note that in 1600 Filipinos arrived in California, way before it was part of the United States. They were among the first agricultural workers or field hands in the mission areas. Today, like their contemporaries of centuries ago, most OFWs – whether manual labourers or salaried professionals – are well-liked by their employers because they are conscientious workers who will try to learn new skills to cope or just to be better at their jobs.

This versatility is also found in adapting to different tastes in food. Although there is a propensity for sweet-salty-sour dishes and to always look for rice, the Filipino palate can adapt well to any prevailing culinary conditions be it sushi, hamburgers, shawarma, sauerkraut or whatever is available. With stable work difficult to come by in the Philippines, it is also not rare to find many Filipinos of different vocations to transform into cooks in many ships and restaurants abroad, most especially in the Middle East. The father of a close friend was originally a skilled carpenter/house painter in the Philippines but became head cook in one of the Emirates in the 1980s. I have also heard of similar situations before. It is perhaps only now that the situation has changed since the food industry has become more specialised with culinary schools being established in most major cities worldwide.
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Maki at I was just really hungry hosts this month’s IMBB with the theme My Little Cupcake (or muffin). As soon as I read the announcement, I had decided on something with tomatoes, whether sweet or savoury. Alas, when the deadline drew near, I was in another part of the country yet I didn’t forget.

And so there I was in Albay, the day before the deadline, on the way home on a bus (no more plane tickets available, everyone’s going home at this time) planning my entry for this month’s IMBB. Maundy Thursday cooking never was more different than it is this year. For one, I’m home and not in a silent retreat. And I have never baked muffins before. After the last SHF and the confections I was fed in Legaspi, I don’t think I’d like to work on anything pervasively sweet for a while. I wanted to bake some tomato and basil muffins but there is no basil in Santa Rita where it’s practically unheard of. Well, creativity never killed me, it just gets me into trouble now and then. Oh, I’m rambling. I should finish this entry before I’m no longer lucid.
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In one of my previous incarnations as a junior government bureaucrat, I was travelling all the time yet hardly saw the places that I went to. However, not having enough time to go around did not stop me from visiting the marketplace or the grocery just to have a feel of the daily life of the populace. I would also eat where locals go and sample their fare. If I only knew then that I would be maintaining a food blog! Sigh!

Among the places that has my heart (and stomach) captured is Rome. Whether in the office canteen, the trattorias or ristorantes, I was fascinated with the simplicity and freshness of the cuisine. Even as I was preoccupied with work, at the back of my mind I was trying to dissect what I was eating such that I could cook them myself. I’ve always been partial to red sauces for my pasta and in Rome I learnt of combinations that I wouldn’t have come up on my own. Returning home, I recreated some of the recipes which I now regularly cook. Following the same principles, I have also come up with my own recipes.
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Or how to come up with something tasty even under pressure…

The Filipino sweet tooth is reflected in our cuisine – from a multitude of kakanin (usually rice-based snacks) to mouth-watering confections that leave everyone asking for more. There’s also the other side – how the popular palate demands to sweeten almost everything – even that which is supposedly not meant to. Established transnational companies have to come up with sweet versions of catsup and sauces for the Philippine market. A Japanese friend noticed how our Japanese restaurants serve good food up to her standards, except that it’s sweet and I didn’t even notice. We also horrify purists with our sweet spaghetti sauce. But then, each culture adapts imported food to its local conditions. Not even established food staples are spared a local interpretation. For commercial institutions most especially, what is of utmost importance is to satisfy their customers. Though not commercial in scope, I also had some satisfying to do two Sundays ago.

Late on a Saturday afternoon, I found myself having to do some cooking the following day even as I had to attend a godson’s first birthday party and fulfil previous commitments. If I hadn’t come home from the city the night before, it would have been easy to make excuses but right at that moment, I was in the centre of it all. I couldn’t refuse any task as they were of equal importance. My godson is the first child of one of my best friends, M, who’s also a classmate from kindergarten till high school. Only a matter of life and death, or extreme forgetfulness, could make me miss his party.

The cooking duty was mainly my own doing when I found out Sunday was also the little girl next door L’s fourth birthday. She is the only child of a couple my mom and aunt recently took in. More than just hired hands, they’re almost like relatives.
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