Burnt Lumpia: Filipino Food | Filipino Recipes | Culinary Hijinks

Lumpia Lessons in the Washington Post

Last week, the Washington Post ran a very interesting and informative profile on Feli Orinion, the executive housekeeper for Willkie Farr & Gallagher (a high-profile international law firm) in downtown Washington. In addition to no doubt running a tight ship at this law firm, Orinion is also one of D.C.'s finest in Filipino cookery--she is more than proficient in the exquisite art of lumpia making.

According to the article, written by Bonnie Benwick, Orinion can roll a few hundred lumpia at the drop of a hat. Benwick writes:

"Consequently, the Orinions have a reputation for showing up at celebrations and school events with several platters in tow, and friends of theirs have one delicious thing in common: A 20-pack of 'Feli's lumpia' is in their freezers, ready to be finished in hot oil."

Nothing's better than a 20-pack of homemade lumpia in the freezer and at the ready, methinks. And luckily for all of us, the Washington Post article includes a recipe for "Feli's Lumpia" as well as "Pancit with Chicken".

The article also makes brief mention of me and my experience with Andrea Nguyen's wonderful recipe for homemade lumpia wrappers.

If that isn't enough lumpia goodness for you to swallow, the article also features a step-by-step photo gallery on "How to Make Lumpia" that includes some of Feli Orinion's very useful tips and tricks.

So if you're as much a lumpia fiend as I am, and if you want to learn how easy it is to stock your freezer with dozens and dozens of lumpia, then read Washington Cooks: Feli Orinion and her Philippine Specialties in the Washington Post.

Homemade Lumpia Wrappers

In case I ever get the Jones to roll up a few fatty spring rolls, I almost always have a package of store-bought Lumpia wrappers at the ready, hidden within the depths of my freezer. But after closer inspection, I found the following ingredients listed on the packaging of said wrappers:

"Bleached wheat flour (niacin, riboflavin, thiamin, reduced iron, mononitrate, folic acid), water, salt, glycerin, sorbital".

I have no idea what half of those ingredients are (isn't glycerin in soap?)! But up until very recently, the chemical make-up of spring roll wrappers was of little consequence to me. Store-bought lumpia wrappers could contain Soylent Green (mmm, soylent green) for all I cared; I was content as long as the end product resulted in crunchy and tasty lumpia.

But thanks to the help of Andrea Nguyen's newest cookbook, Asian Dumplings: Mastering Gyoza, Spring Rolls, Samosas, and More, I had a spring roll epiphany: Lumpia wrappers can be made from scratch!

Crazy right? Aside from the crepe-like skins of Lumpiang Sariwa (fresh unfried lumpia), I never considered making my own wrappers for fried lumpia. But with Andrea's fantastic cookbook, a few simple ingredients that I already had in my pantry (no glycerine necessary), and a bit of patience, I was able to fashion my own stash of homemade lumpia wrappers--thin skins that, when fried, were just as crisp and golden as their store-bought counterparts.

Shanghaied at Rasa Malaysia

Photo illustration and overall awesomeness by Rasa Malaysia

I couldn't help but to giggle a bit when Rasa Malaysia asked me to be a guest writer for her blog--especially because she specifically requested that I write about the Filipino spring rolls known as Lumpia. Quite apropos, I thought, considering the name of my own blog. Though I tried vigilantly to avoid any charring of any spring rolls for this post, the last one or two in my frying pan did set off the old smoke alarm (sometimes I can't help myself)...

So I decided to do a recipe for Lumpiang Shanghai--a small, thin type of fried lumpia. Lumpiang Shanghai is a favorite of mine because it is fairly easy to make--just roll the wrapper over the meat, no fancy folding is required so the spring rolls are left open-ended.

To learn more about different types of Lumpia, and to find my easy recipe for Lumpiang Shanghai, hop on over to Bee's wonderful blog, Rasa Malaysia, to read my guest post.

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Fresh on the heels of Joey's guest post about adobo, I was ecstatic when Bee asked me if I'd like to introduce even more Filipino food to her readers. Of course I would! After all, everyone deserves a little bit of Filipino food in their bellies!

When I Dip You Dip We Dip

Every Filipino family has their own version of a dipping sauce for lumpia.  The dipping sauce my mother makes is very simple and consists of vinegar, chopped garlic, and ground black pepper.  When I make my mom’s sauce, I usually throw in some red pepper flakes for some extra spice.

It might not seem very obvious at first, but lumpia dipping can be a very serious endeavor.  Especially when you consider the consequences.

For instance, before taking a bite of my lumpia, I dip its closed end directly into the dipping sauce.  But once I take a bite, I do not dip it back into the sauce.  Usually, I don’t mind double-dipping—you could double-dip your chips in the salsa as much as you’d like.  But lumpia is different.  It’s got cargo inside.

Once you bite the end off of a lumpia it transforms itself from a Filipino eggroll to an open tube of loose meat!  Gravity and an overturned open tube of loose meat are not friends!  Mother Nature scoffs at your dipping sauce! Pretty soon there will be bits of meat and shards of once-crisp lumpia wrapper floating in what was formerly a pristine pool of vinegar and spice.

(I just thought of this, but if I were part of a tag team of Filipino wrestlers, I’d want our name to be “Vinegar and Spice”. Vinegar would be the surly one and Spice would be the flamboyant tactician.  I could play either role.  Our finishing move would be the “Quadruple Tsinelas Dropkick to the Face!” But I digress. Back to my original post.)

I don’t want to see your meat floating in my sauce!  It’s unacceptable and it’s gross and it’s something I refer to as LSP (Lumpia Sauce Pollution). It’s a serious problem, folks.

Rollin' With Mom

Like most Asian mothers, my mother’s Powers of Nagging are magnified a hundred-fold when in the kitchen.  Likewise, my sensitivity to her nagging is proportionally heightened – which is why I haven’t attempted to cook anything in her kitchen since the great Turkey Debacle of 2002. It’s another story for another time, but I quickly want to give a sampling of my mother’s “constructive criticism” from that night:

"Why is your turkey in a bucket of water? Do you know what you’re doing?”
“We don't eat cranberry sauce, why are you making that?”
“You're gonna make rice aren't you?”
“Are you gonna be much longer, your Dad's already falling asleep.”
“This drumstick is still pink inside!"

And on and on she went.

Ugh.

Praise isn't a concept my family quite understands, but they are masters of criticism - especially my mother. After that night, I swore I would never, ever, cook anything again for my family - especially my mother.

(Wait, what’s that you say? A vendetta taken too far? Against my own mother? Listen, Ass, you try cooking up some white-people-food for an impossible-to-please-hungry-Filipino-family and get back to me about vendettas.) Ahem. Uh, anyhoo…

Five years later, that promise to myself is getting harder to keep, especially now that I’m wanting to learn more about Filipino food.  I can't exactly cull Filipino recipes from my mother without having to cook with her. So, I put my kitchen blood feud against my mother aside, at least for one day, and asked her to show me how to make lumpia – a fried (generally speaking that is, lumpia can also be prepared unfried and fresh) Filipino appetizer similar to a spring roll.

And you know what? It was a pretty good experience.