I constantly think about my relationship with food - what it does to my body, how it makes me feel about my body, how it makes me think about other (usually fit) bodies and how I long to have one, how it makes me feel about people who don't really care about food beyond nourishment and trend, what it does to me emotionally, how my choices affect my body and the environment, how it shapes my identity, and the karmic repercussions that come with consuming especially when killing is involved. Initially, I wanted this blog as a casual go-to for Southeast Asian recipes for vegetarians and pescatarians, but the more I cook, and the more I write about what I cooked and food in general, the more I go into a deep excavation of the self. Memories spill out, both good and bad, and with them the foods that I ate, or foods that other people ate. I realized that I am incapable of making this blog casual and that it is always going to be deeply personal. And as I try to learn Philippine cuisine through my family as a producer (not as someone who just eats it), there's going to be a lot of fucking up - just read my Jackfruit Mechado post. Learning from family members is tricky at the same time, because to be honest, I found out that they were lured by the convenience of packaged soup bases, and powdered stocks, and bouillon cubes. Nothing at home is ever really completely made from scratch, and I wanted to learn from scratch...
Recently, a powerful memory has surfaced that made me question everything again. I had a really good friend in high school. She was a year older than me so by the time I was a senior she was already a college freshman. I hadn't been in touch with her for a couple of months for whatever reasons. So I called her up one afternoon to see how she's doing and found out that her mother had just passed away. I went and visited her and while I was in her apartment kitchen, she pulled out a tin foil plate tightly wrapped by Saran plastic from the freezer, and in it was a thick slice of cake. She opened it, took a small bite, re-wrapped it and put it back in the freezer. I asked why she only took a small bite and she said that it was the last thing that her mother made and she was trying to preserve it for as long as possible...After thinking about that memory, a few days later I watched a documentary series called Cooked which is based on Michael Pollan's book, which is an anthropological take on why we cook our food (or rather what made us human).
As I was trying to learn recipes from my mom, the question of cooking with and eating red meat keeps surfacing up and this memory gave me the answer. I haven't fully made a decision but what I do know is that I should really enjoy my mom's cooking whether or not it has meat, and to try to learn from her as much as possible before she leaves this planet.
Today I made black bean soup with sotanghon noodles (bean thread noodles). My memories associated with this dish doesn't involve my mom, but my grandmother. It was one of my favorites growing up. My grandmother was the one who always cooked, from sunrise to sundown every single day. The recipe for this dish was the only recipe that I asked from her. And I asked her during one of my last nights in Manila, before flying to California for good. I lost the recipe and eventually forgotten it. She passed away Christmas Eve in 2012. I remember that night vividly. I was at a Christmas dinner party, then went to a friends house for another get-together, and received a text message from my mom saying that she's gone. Drove home and had a panic attack. And I just remember walking in the house, everyone had just finished crying except for my mom who was in her bedroom, gave her a hug that she rejected because she needed to be alone and then I sat down in front of a laptop monitor, watching my grandma's dead body over Skype, took a photo of her and saved it for quite some time and eventually deleted it... She was 80
I'm pretty sure I fucked this recipe up. I asked my mom and my aunt what the ingredients are and they very quickly just went over how to cook it. I made it today without their supervision. My grandma made this with beef and I'm pretty sure she made it with dried black beans that she soaked and then simmered for long hours. I, however, chose to use canned beans, no beef involved. I also am sure that I put too much bagoong terong/bagoong isda which is salted and fermented fish sauce unique to the Philippines. I also used spinach instead of sweet potato leaves or cassava leaves. I'm going to make this again the proper way. But for now it's the pescatarian version.
Here's how to fuck it up.
half of a large onion, half-inch dice
one tomato, half-inch dice
five cloves of garlic, minced
two cans black beans, drained (I used Trader Joe's)
two small bundles of sotanghon or bean thread noodles
1/4 cup of bagoong terong
2 cups of spinach
pint of hot water, plus more if needed
fish sauce to taste
sea salt
black pepper
jasmine rice
vegetable oil
In a small pot, heat the oil over medium high heat and saute the onions and garlic until fragrant and onion is translucent. Add the tomatoes and saute until mushy. Add in the beans and stir for about a minute then add in bagoong terong. Saute for about a minute more then pour in hot water. Lower the heat to medium and simmer the beans for about 15-20 minutes. Add in the sotanghon noodles and a couple of cups more of hot water. Simmer until the noodles become transparent. Season with fish sauce, salt and pepper. Turn off heat, and throw in the spinach leaves. Serve with jasmine rice.
