Burnt Lumpia: Filipino Food | Filipino Recipes | Culinary Hijinks

A Taste of Pandan

I've read in a few places that Pandan is to Asia what Vanilla is to the Western world. Since I've never worked with Pandan in the kitchen before, I was a bit confused by this analogy and assumed that there was a less-than-mediocre, one-hit-wonder, wannabe rap artist by the name of "Pandan Ice" running around Asia.

Shay with a gauge and Pandan with a nine.

Turns out I was wrong. Which is a good thing. One Vanilla Ice is more than the world can stand.

Anyhoo, the Pandan/Vanilla comparison actually pertains to the wide use of Pandan in a variety of Southeast Asian dishes. Like vanilla pods, the long green leaves of the Pandan (AKA Screwpine) plant are very fragrant and aromatic. Also similar to vanilla, the unique aroma of pandan leaves is used to flavor many sweets. In the Philippines for example, Pandan is usually paired with coconut in desserts like Buko Pandan salad--a sweet mixture of pandan-perfumed milk, gelatin, and coconut.

However, it should also be noted that Pandan tastes nothing like vanilla. Some say that the aroma and flavor of Pandan is similar to that of coconuts--which is strange considering that the two ingredients are usually paired together. To me though, the flavor of Pandan is wholly unique but tastes kinda banana leafy, sorta grassy, a little bit nutty, and a lot like Jasmine rice--all at the same time. Despite my best efforts at pinning down a flavor description, the taste of Pandan is almost indescribable.

But don't let Pandan's uniqueness discourage you from using it your cooking. Even though it tastes and smells nothing like vanilla, I used some Pandan leaves in much the same way I would use vanilla pods. I steeped the leaves in some warm milk and cream to extract the wonderful Pandan fragrance and flavor--instead of plain ol' vanilla ice cream, I made Pandan ice cream.

Marrow Escape

If you were to look at my old man's life resume, a laundry list of bullet points would be on display under the "Skills" heading. Among his wide and varied talents would be the following:

• Throat Punching
• Beer Drinking
• Marrow Extracting

It could be argued that both "Throat Punching" and "Beer Drinking" are hobbies rather than skills, so I'll focus on the last item in that list for now: Marrow Extracting. Or, to put it more plainly--sucking the fatty and unctuous meat-flavored butter from animal bones. Yum!

Ah yes, bone marrow. A delicacy that seems to be catching on in many fine dining establishments these days, but something that many cultures have been feasting on for thousands of years--or at least since the 80's.

I remember many a meal at our dinner table when I was a wee lad--before I discovered the joys of marrow consumption.  My brothers and I were always instructed to give our leftover bones, from whatever we were eating, to my father. Then, with gustatory glee, my father deftly (and loudly) sucked the marrow from the bones of the creatures felled for our dinner: chicken legs, pork ribs, beef shanks, magical unicorn horns, etcetera etcetera.

Such behavior always seemed to leave my mother appalled, whereas I thought it was fairly awe-inspiring. As they say, the kalamansi doesn't fall far from the tree--I've taken quite a liking to the fatty, tasty goo found at the center of hollow bones. And for the longest time, due to my upbringing, I thought eating bone marrow was the norm. But it turns out that (besides vegetarians) there are those who are kinda grossed out by the whole idea of eating bone marrow. Strange, that.

For example, my wife and I recently joined a couple of friends for an Italian dinner at a nice restaurant. One of the appetizers on the menu was "Roasted Bone Marrow"--which I immediately ordered with zero hesitation.  When the platter of three-inch thick, oven-roasted beef bones (I'm guessing from the shank) arrived at our table, I gleefully scraped the gelatinous mass from their bony containers, spread the goo on some toast points and sprinkled on some sea salt and parsley leaves. It was good. Sinfully, deliciously good.

After a couple of delectable bites of the marrow-spread bread, I shook myself from my crazed carnivorous haze to find the rest of my table looking at me as if I had just eaten a baby.  Sure, everyone had a taste of the marrow that night, but it seemed I was the only one who truly enjoyed that appetizer--I ended up finishing the whole thing myself (not that I'm complaining).

I guess eating bone marrow could be a cultural thing--not everybody grows up with a dad that inhales the innards of animal bones. And not everyone grows up with Bulalo, AKA "Bone Soup"--an incredibly easy, yet delicious, Filipino soup made from beef shanks and bone marrow.

Lucky me.

Big Fan o' Tapa

Filipino Tapa is thinly sliced beef that is cured and dried with salt, sugar, and other spices and then cooked in oil.  In other words, Tapa is fried beef jerky. And, as seen in the picture above, Tapa is usually served for breakfast along with garlic fried rice and a fried egg or two.  This breakfast trinity of fried foods is known as Tapsilog: TAP is from Tapa, SI is from sinangag (fried rice), and LOG is from itlog (egg). Substitute Longanisa for the Tapa and you've got Longsilog. Filipinos. Crazy wordsmiths we are.

I could be wrong, but I imagine that early Filipinos (by "early" I mean a long long time ago, as opposed to the opposite of "Filipino Time") cured and dried their beef to preserve it, and then later fried it to wake the flavors up a bit. Or, maybe we just like to make perfectly healthy foods unhealthy by dousing them in oil. Nah, that can't be it.

Anyways, in researching Tapa, I found many many recipes consisting of simple marinades but excluded the traditional curing and drying process. Heck, even I had one of these "quick" tapa recipes sans the curing and drying  Why no curing and drying? Well, because those are magical culinary processes that a home cook cannot duplicate because leaving raw beef out to dry can lead to things like bacteria, mold, and explosive diarrh...

You get the point.

But, in all actuality, anyone can cure, dry, and dehydrate beef at home with none of the ill effects I mentioned above.  It's true. Just ask The Goog for Beef Jerky recipes and he will gently whisper them into your ears, or at least flash them in front of your eyeballs.

After finding a gajillion and one recipes for beef jerky, I figured I could just make up my own Tapa marinade and then dry my marinated Beef Tapa in the same fashion as an American jerky. Why the heck not!

And so that's what I did.  I created my own marinade and chose a drying process that would be quick, easy, and AWESOME.  What could possibly be AWESOME about drying meat?  Well, I used a box fan, a couple of paper furnace filters, and some bungee cord to mummify my marinated meat.  I'm serious.