Promisary Entry and Filipino Favorites

As implied by the title, this entry is to serve:

1) as a means to let everyone know that I intend to update this journal with everything I ate this summer...but that I'm too lazy to upload the 8,327 pics I took of miscellaneous eating events. Trust me, when I do bother to upload the pics, you'll wish you spent your summer with me.

2)as a means to tell you about my most favorite filipino comfort food.

So in the past week since my mom came to visit, I've been craving the food that I grew up eating. So, instead of making salads and pastas and sandwiches and casseroles for dinner, I've been making all the dishes I used to beg my mom to make. Unfortunately it didn't occur to me to photograph the food until they were left-overs which I thought would be kinda gnarly to take pictures of.

I made two dishes this week, which managed to last us because I cook like my mother...I make enough food for, like, a 6 person family. It turned out fine though, because I've always loved left-overs. The first dish was Kabocha Squash, Snake Beans, and Shrimp stewed in Coconut milk. I love this dish because I love all the ingredients, and together they make a luscious, rich, curry-like stew. The squash, which cooks up buttery and tender and sweet, creates a bright orange sauce when stewed with the coconut milk. The snake beans, a long, hearty type of chinese green been, have a texture that I can only describe as...toothsome(?) and I prefer their subtle flavor and dense texture to the regular green bean. The marriage of the sweet, creamy-textured squash and the slightly chewy, slightly crunchy snake beans is only improved by tender, savory bites of shrimp. My mom tended to saute the deveined, shell- and head-on shrimp in with the garlic and onions in the beginning of making the dish, but I always found that the shrimp was far too tough by the time the squash and beans were cooked. Her tactic was, of course, to impart the flavor of the shrimp to the vegetables as they stewed in the coconut milk. Instead, I peeled the shrimp and sauteed a few shrimp heads in with the garlic and onions. This creates a fragrant and billiantly orange mixture that is not unlike curry paste. After the heads have released their flavorful juices (mmm...shrimp-head juice) I pick out the heads and add the coconut milk and cubed Kabocha Squash. If the whole process of shrimp-head-sauteeing makes you queasy, a good dose of fish sauce, which is essential to nearly all Filipino dishes, should add enough flavor so that you can just use pre-peeled shrimp. When the squash is semi-tender I add in the snake beans. The peeled shrimp goes in at the very end when the vegetables are just about done and the sauce is rich and thick. As shrimp are so delicate, the heat of the coconut milk should be just enough to cook the shrimp through. Give it about 5 minutes with constant stirring. When the shrimp are evenly pink and firm (but not tough) the dish is done. Serve it over big bowls of rice...oh, and I forgot, it's even better if you cook the stew with some spicy chillies. The heat of jalapeno peppers, or whatever hot pepper you like, lends a nice contrast to all the rich, comfy ingredients.

Traditionally, this dish is called ginataan, which is the word for any stew made with coconut milk. One of my mom's favorite desserts is a sweet ginataan that uses sweet potatoes, purple yam, corn, and mochi-like rice balls. It's really comforting on a cold day. I however, will just call this dish by its ingredients since my tagalog grammar is pitiful.

The second dish I made this week is one I always clamored for whenever my mom brought home eggplants. The roasted eggplant torta is like a thin, slightly crisp fritatta that is intensely flavorful. The key to making a torta with tons of smoky flavor is roasting whole chinese or japanese eggplants (their flavor is sweeter than the European aubergine, and the flesh a bit more dense) until the skin is completely charred. The burning of the skin essentially smokes the tender flesh inside, and the dry heat helps eliminate a lot of moisture from the flesh. Furthermore, this method of cooking eggplants seems to be the only one that really does this awesome vegetable justice. This is because roasting the eggplant develops and intensifies the otherwise subtle buttery, nutty, and sweet flavors. I usually just put the eggplants under the broiler until one side is totally black and then flip the eggplant and do the same to the other side. After the eggplants have cooled, the brittle, charred skin should come off easily, like a shell. Traditionally, the peeled flesh is slightly flattened and dipped in a beaten egg. The stem is left on so that you can lower the eggplant into the pan with the "handle" of the eggplant. This method, however is less than ideal in my opinion because parts of the torta or overly mushy with too much eggplant, while the edges, where the egg bled onto the pan, or totally absent of the main ingredient. My solution is to cut the smoked eggplant into chunks to mix into the torta batter. However, before making the batter, a quick giniling has to be whipped together. Giniling is basically ground, seasoned meat. It's very simple, and different versions of giniling are made specifically for use in tortas. Mine is made simply by frying onions, garlic, and tomatoes until all ingredients are thoroughly cooked and the pan is dry before adding some ground pork and a good measure of fish sauce. When the meat is ccoking, and even after the giniling is done, the pork will smell very, well, fish saucy, but don't worry. When mixed into the torta batter and fried, the meat should be a fragrant, savory complement to the roasted eggplant. Now that all the hard work is done, simply combine the chopped flesh of one whole roasted eggplant, about a third of a cup of giniling, 3 eggs, and salt and pepper to taste. Pour half the batter into a pan with a thick layer of oil in the bottom, this is important because the deep layer of oil ensures that the torta will fry up thin and crisp. Cook until the underside is a deep brown color, then flip and do the same to the other side. That's it. Once the eggplant is roasted and peeled, the rest is simple. Thus, I like to roast a good deal of eggplant at a time. It maybe wierd to eat eggs for dinner, but I promise that this roasted eggplant torta will have you hooked on the breakfast-dinner switheroo. And for such a seemingly simple dish, the flavor is intense, sophisticated and utterly sublime. Listen, I've been eating these tortas all week and have just come back from a fancy Rockridge dinner at Olivetto, but I'm still craving a smoked eggplant torta as I write this. It's that good.