Burnt Lumpia

Grilled Bitter Melon, Mango, and Tomato Salad

Lasang Pinoy, for those of you not in the know, is a group of Filipino food bloggers who get together every now and again to blog about Filipino food.  Each Lasang Pinoy event revolves around a certain theme to promote different aspects of Filipino food.  Think of it as an underground fight club--except no one gets punched in the face, it's not so underground, and everyone shares recipes (Ok, so maybe an underground fight club wasn't the best analogy. My comparative analysis is unforgiveably nonsensical!).

Ahem, uh, moving on.

Like I was saying, each Lasang Pinoy event revolves around a certain theme.  The theme for the Lasang Pinoy event that I took part in was "vegetables", or more specifically "Oh My Gulay!"

"Gulay" literally translates to "vegetable".  The term, "Oh my gulay!" is (according to Toni at Wifely Steps) a Pinoy expression commonly used to present a feeling of shock, frustration, excitement, or surprise.  Funny, that.  I don't think there has ever been a Filipino who met a play on words that he didn't like (remember my Grandpa's legendary coconut joke?).

With my first foray into a Lasang Pinoy event coinciding with the Memorial Day weekend here in the U.S., I knew I had to get a little creative.  I was initially going to make my most favorite Pinoy dish, Pinakbet, but I thought that would be too pedestrian a dish for this event.  The guidelines for this Lasang Pinoy event state that entries need not be a typical Filipino recipe, but it had to have Pinoy flavor.  So I attempted to incorporate that Pinoy flavor (flava in ya mouf!) into one of the biggest grilling weekends of the year.

My grill was calling out to me. Oh my gulay!

Macapuno Ice Cream

Ladies and gentlemen, a joke from my Grandfather:

“What’s the biggest nut?”

[comedic pause]

“Coconut!”

Ah yes, not quite at the level of Dave Chappelle, but comedic gold nonetheless from my paternal Grandfather Juan (AKA Grandpa Johnny, AKA Johnny Boom-Boom, AKA The Chairman).  That comedic gem was on my mind this past weekend when I exhumed the canister for my ice cream maker from the back of my freezer in hopes of creating a recipe for Macapuno Ice Cream.  Macapuno is a type of coconut that is grown in the Philippines – the same place where my Grandfather was grown no less.

Macapuno is also known as “mutant coconut” because the meat inside of this naturally occurring oddity is more abundant and softer than the meat found in normal coconuts.  Despite its unfortunately icky-sounding English name, Macapuno is an incredibly delicious fruit (or is it a nut? Damn you Johnny Boom-Boom!).  And here in the states, you can find jarred Macapuno in most any Asian market.  The jarred variety is usually labeled something like “Sweet Macapuno Strings” as threads of grated coconut are preserved in some sort of gelatin – think of it as coconut jelly (or jam, depending on how it shakes for you;).

Filipinos use Macapuno in a variety of desserts: from cakes, to flan, to Halo-halo.  But for me, ice cream is one of the best mediums for this mutant.  So ice cream it was this time around at the Burnt Lumpia Worldwide Headquarters.

Leche Flan Lessons

Flan is the Sean “Puffy” Combs of the dessert world – it’s rich, decadent, and goes by a few different aliases: Crème Caramel, Caramel Custard, Flan de Leche, and Leche Flan. 

Despite its multiple monikers, Flan is more or less a caramel-topped, custard-based dessert that is prepared using the same simple ingredients of eggs, milk, and sugar.  Why all the different names for the same dessert?  Well, with Flan, it ain’t where you from, it’s where you at. (That last sentence did not sound as cool as I thought it would. Dork!)

For instance, Flan is the general term used for this sweet treat in the U.S. (Mmm-mmm tasty!) and Spain (Delicioso!).  In the U.K., Flan is called Caramel Custard (Right-o chap!), and in France they refer to it as Crème Caramel (Uhhh, um, ménage a trois?).  Our friends in Latin America may order Flan de Leche at the end of a meal (!Muy sabroso!).  And of course, in my household, and in households in the Philippines, we refer to this dessert as Leche Flan (Sarap!).  Whew (I am amazed by my awesome multilingualness!)!

Leche Flan is one of the many legacies of Spanish colonialism in the Philippines.  And in the Philippines, Leche Flan is usually prepared using either Carabao’s (water buffalo) milk, or a combination of canned condensed milk and canned evaporated milk.  Canned milk is used out of convenience, but because of the tropical climate in the Philippines, it is also used (I assume) because it doesn’t spoil as readily as fresh milk.

My grandmother’s recipe for Leche Flan calls for a can each of condensed milk and evaporated milk, a dozen egg yolks, some sugar, and some vanilla.  Conversely, my mother (AKA Lightning Lumpia) uses regular old cow’s milk.

Also, instead of baking individual servings in separate ramekins, than say, the French would do with Crème Caramel, Leche Flan is usually prepared in large pans called Llaneras.  My grandmother and mother just use round cake pans to make their Leche Flan.  After baking, they would then turn the Leche Flan out of its pan and slice it into individual servings.

Since I had plenty of milk and half-and-half, and neither canned nor Carabao’s milk, I decided to make my own version of Leche Flan.  I do plan on making my grandmother’s more traditional version sometime in the future, as it is one of my favorites that she makes.  My grandmother’s version is particularly sweet and rich, and I’d be interested to taste test real milk vs. canned milk Leche Flans some day.

[By the way, I just realized how strange it is that I decided to use milk and half-and-half because that is what is convenient for me, rather than canned milk being convenient.  Is that ironic?  I’m not sure.  My sense of irony is lackluster. Damn you Alanis! Damn you straight to hell!]

Pinkberry Pandemic Hits Rancho Cucamonga

I first heard of Pinkberry when I was perusing the LA Times last year and came upon the following headline:

"The taste that launched 1000 parking tickets: Pinkberry addicts cramp the style of one neighborhood"

My first thoughts before reading the entire article, "Hmmm, a new strip club?  Why are they always sticking strip clubs near innocent neighborhoods?  Why don't they ever put any strip clubs near my neighborhood?"

Turns out that Pinkberry was not the name of a new nudie bar. Pinkberry was a frozen yogurt joint that reportedly served the most bestest and tastiest frozen yogurt imaginable, frozen yogurt that was topped with everything from Cap'n Crunch to fresh berries.

My first thoughts after reading the article, "Dude, it's just frozen yogurt with toppings, how good can it be?  That's definitely not Cuttino!"

[A quick aside. You're probably wondering what the hell "not Cuttino" is.  You're not?  Oh, well, I'll tell you anyways.  My good buddy Matt happens to be a sports writer for the Riverside Press Enterprise.  Sometime last year, Matt interviewed Clippers guard Cuttino Mobley about Lakers fans and Clippers fans.  Mobley pretty much said Clippers fans were true sports fans and Lakers fans were a bunch of followers. Mobley then ended the interview by saying, "That's not Cuttino!" about the trendiness of Lakers fans.  Ever since then, me and Matt refer to everything trendy as "Not Cuttino"€.]

That really wasn't a quick aside was it?  I am a terribly slow storyteller!

Where was I? Oh, yes. Pinkberry. After that initial article, I didn't give much thought to the frozen yogurt eatery (froyogurtery?).  But then the buzz hit Chow, and it hit other food blogs, and then I heard Pinkberry namedropped on The Hills (You brought my roses to Audrina at Pinkberry!!).  Uh, not that I watch that show or anything.  I'm a grown-ass man.  Watching The Hills is NOT CUTTINO!

A Pinkberry Pandemic was spreading across the land as more and more of these "trendy"€ frozen yogurt shops were popping up across SoCal and even into New York.  I had to try this stuff out.  It had to be tasty right?  Alas, no Pinkberries (or gentleman's clubs for that matter) were open near the Burnt Lumpia World Wide Headquarters in the Inland Empire.  Until last week that is.

Chicken Adobo (Yes, Again)

As my thousands of two regular infrequent readers may recall, I have attempted to make Chicken Adobo before.  The results from that previous attempt?  Eh, I wasn't too pleased.  But I wasn't disheartened either.  In fact, after making that not too satisfying dish of Chicken Adobo, I vowed to keep trying different recipes until I found something I liked.

So while partaking in the Penny-Wise Eat Local Challenge almost two weeks ago (yes, I'm behind on my blogging, I know) I purchased a couple of pounds of chicken thighs not really knowing what I was going to do with them.  As I was pushing my cart around Henry's that day, I walked past a display of local organic  cider vinegar which triggered a flickering light bulb above my head.  As this light bulb buzzed and pulsated above my noggin, I bit my lip, cocked an eyebrow, and slowly started remembering something about chicken and vinegar.

Duh! Chicken Adobo!

After I had finally flipped the A-HA! switch, I knew I had seen a chicken adobo recipe specifically for chicken thighs in one of the many foodie mags I had back home.  I just had to figure out which magazine it was in.