POWER TO THE PROLETARIAN PINAPAITAN! I am of the firm belief that Pinapaitan (Cow/Carabao/Goat Innards in Bitter Soup) is the Ilokano peasant’s culinary revenge against the pretentious dishes of the Ilokano comprador. As in every place, the rich get the choicest cuts of meat, preparing them in the ostentatious ways of the colonizers and leaving the most unsavory parts to the poor. Think tuna heads and prawn heads. But we, the poor, have the uncanny gift of transforming otherwise most unpalatable parts into magical recipes. And savoring the deliciousness of our proletarian recipes, our poor little rich cousins secretly desire them and cook them, albeit in altered states in keeping with their acquired cosmopolitan tastes. That’s how we even out. Pinapaitan is a case in point. The authentic Ilokano pinapaitan makes use of the grass from one of the digestive chambers (don’t ask me) of the animal of choice -- carabao, cow or goat. (On the frugal Ilokano, they say, no part of animal meat goes to waste. Not even the grass that the cow or goat has ingested.) It is really this juice, pulped or squeezed that gives this recipe that yellow-greenish glitter and thick, if grassy broth. The use of apdo (bile) alone for this bitter recipe is, I swear, a non-Ilokano watering down of the original ingredient arising, again methinks, from cosmopolitan biases and affectations (nakakadiri!). To make this dish, the unsophisticated Ilokano simply washes the animals innards (intestines, liver, pancreas, stomach (libro, tualya -- described by their looks) and tenderizes them slowly in a pot. Sometimes, when the stench is rather strong, he rubs them with vinegar and salt, then boils them in guava leaves before the cooking proper. When the meat is tender, he seasons his obra with ginger onions, and black pepper. Then he adds the grass juice or pespes which he has lovingly stored away when the animal was being butchered. No prescribed amount, everything is left to intuition. Then he adds siling haba (finger) for fragrance. Now all that fat and lard from the innards can make the broth oily. And if not heated enough, it can be cakey. So now you know why pinapaitan is left to simmer on low fire even as the guests eat, until it is gloriously consumed. The broth can be nakakaumay (rich) so now you also know why theres always calamansi or kamias around. I love my Pinapaitan prepared the old Ilokano way. But because – much to my dismay, I can’t find grass juice, I have learned to settle for apdo and to adjust the bitterness according to the threshold of my non-Ilokano friends. (One time a guest exclaimed, “Mapait” Bitter!” Ulol, pinapaitan nga eh.) So to introduce them to this unique delicacy, heres how I cook it. To take out the strong smell, I clean the innards thoroughly to the point of even turning them inside out and scraping off much of the fat. Then I boil them with plenty of guava leaves until they’re fragrant and squeaky clean. Then I discard the broth and wash them again in cold water. By this time the meats are tender, so I can slice them into bite-size pieces. Then I, Tagalog-style, saute them in garlic, ginger and onions. Then I again bring my masterpiece to a boil until the desired tenderness blending of exotic flavors. This takes about three rounds of singing “Manang Biday,” “O Naraniag a Bulan,” and “Ti Ayat ti Maysa Nga Ubing.” Afterward, I season it with salt and add either calamansi juice or slices of kamias. Act V: by the teaspoon, I add the grass juice, tasting the broth constantly for the desired bitterness. I then add the siling haba. When satisfied, I switch the stove to low and keep it there until it is all gone. I serve it with extra labuyo and the remainder of the grass juice to suit individual preferences. Savored today as elixir after a toxic week that called for a balm to perk up a tired and suffering spirit. And what power it has – from choosing the ingredients to cleaning the meat to inhaling the aroma up to the concluding fight and bite. For greater excitement in texture and flavor, I added a couple of beef short ribs. Paired with Tortang Hipon (shrimp omelet) and Cucumber-Radish Salad Na May Itlog na Pula. (Thanks to my suki for meat, Mama Mary, for choosing the best parts of the beef innards for me.)
Posted on: Sun, 10 Aug 2014 08:22:28 +0000
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