Aftertastes

Some years ago, I came to Iloilo for a number of reasons. Yet, none of them is the fact that I would have to enjoy, among others, the food in this part of our country.

The Ilonggo are food-loving people, which is not very much different from the culture of the people in Bicol where I grew up. Through the years, I must say I have come to love Iloilo food. In fact, my palate has not craved for more, probably because some Ilonggo dishes only remind me of those I have also tasted savored & relished back home.

Bakareta
I first ate bakareta in 2005, when a fellow high school teacher suggested after our morning classes that we order it for our lunch from a lutong bahay in Magsaysay Village in La Paz. I found it was not different from our very own inadobong baka. After all, bakareta is the combined form of baka and kaldereta, both terms and dishes we also have in Bicol.

I always enjoy bakareta’s tender beef and gravy, which I suppose should not be too much. One day, when my father-in-law put just pepper into the tenderest beef he must have bought from Super (Iloilo’s largest public market), I could only utter ohhs ahhs & mouthfuls of praises. Holy cow. The treat was unforgettable.

Laswa

Around the same year, I was introduced to láswa (soft a in the second syllable), a sticky hodgepodge of okra, kalabasa, beans and some leafy vegetables like saluyot or (if budget permits, pasayan or shrimps and dayok, or small shrimps). While the viscous dish is because of the okra, I relish the soft squash and the nutritious tastelessness of the leaves that this dish offers. 


Every time I eat laswa, I think of my liver my heart & my lungs being able to breathe rejuvenate & renew after I have eaten tons of peanuts or indulged in lechon or fastfoodstuff (Stuff is the right word for all fast food since they just stuff you with salt sugar & spice and other hardly soluble ingredients). I am grateful with laswa because I become aware how the leaves roots & fiber would help absorb douse or wash down the oil salt & sweets accumulated in my system.

For the supply of greens, Bikolanos would put ugbos kamote (young camote leaves), okra, or other tender leafy vegetables over the simmering rice. Or we cook them in other ways. While Bikolanos have no laswa, with its exact ingredients and cooking procedure, we enjoy kettlefuls of vegetables which are best cooked with small fish or smaller chunks of meat in ohhsome coconut milk (gutâ) or else. Besides the regular sili or labuyo, I wonder where else we would get the gusto for everything without the gutâ?

Paksiw

In the 1980s, my mother would ask me to buy paksiw from Tiya Deling who owned a nearby carinderia. A classic bestseller in those days, the Bikol paksiw is virtually sinigang na baboy with lubás leaves that flavor and douse off the porky smell of the pork. But one day in Iloilo, I was surprised when a friend ordered paksiw and was given some small fish onioned peppered & soaked in langgaw, their homemade vinegar. There, I found out that Iloilo’s paksiw is Bicol’sinón-on, where ginger or garlic is used to douse the fishy smell of the fish. I sip inon-on’s gravy that is langgaw that comes in any paksiw treat as long as it is not onioned. We hardly used onions for inon-on (these two words are almost anagrams); otherwise, it would really smell different. Or inonions.

In Bicol, ginger or lâya best douses the smell of any fish, except perhaps pági or patíng, with which bigger aromatic leaves like lubas (libas) or ibâ (kamias) are cooked. Whenever I am treated to paksiw or whenever I cook inón-on myself, I make sure there is more vinegar. If not, I set aside something from the dish which I could fry later. Sure, once I cook it in little oil, the small fish soaked cooked & intimated in langgaw would become crunchy mouthfuls of stories to tell.