Nails

There are many things about food that we simply take for granted. Take rice. Given just a kettle and some kindling, would you know how to cook it? I would, but with great trepidation. It has been ages since I last cooked rice from scratch. Or in a rice cooker, for that matter. Now that I think of it, I haven’t cooked rice since Marcos lifted martial law! Which prompts me to ask: When was the last time you cooked rice? Or have you ever?

I’m not here to disparage. It just occurred to me the other day, over a plate of perfectly crunchy buwad (dried fish), that I can be too critical about things I have no first-hand knowledge of. How many times have I complained about buwad being burned or under-fried? And yet I’m first to admit that I would not know how to fry it right, either. So excuse me if I just had to ask the cook where she suddenly got the voodoo to fry buwad that good. A new-found inspiration? Blind luck? A tip from Kris?

Turns out it was plain unsolicited advice from some colleague. Isn’t it incredible what sometimes comes up in idle chitchat? There you are, talking about the latest showbiz gossip when someone throws in a non sequitur about cooking perfect dried fish, and all of a sudden you’re a domestic goddess! I should speak to people more often.

The dried fish referred to were of the variety facetiously referred to as lansang, for their resemblance to nails (the construction material). The common name is buwad bolináw (dried anchovy fry). They come in various lengths, so people take the analogy further by using shorthand: numero dos for two-inch fry, tres for three, etc.

If I were to ask how you would cook this type of dried fish, you would doubtless reply: “In oil, of course!” Of course. That’s a given. But how, exactly? If I had to guess (again), a number of you would say, “Oh, I’m sure the help would know.” It’s their job, after all.

You’d be surprised.

Some things seem fairly obvious. Evenly cooked rice. Fluffy omelette. Al dente pasta. Crunchy (or crispy) buwad. Yet not even five-star kitchens get them right every time (I am reminded of the omelette at some resort, which I have since flushed out of my system, literally and figuratively). When things go as expected, we take that as a matter of course. When they don’t — well, it’s goddamned buwad, for goodness’ sake; how hard can that be?

Not that hard, surprisingly (I had the cook show me). Should I wake up one day in charge of this nation’s educational system, the second item on my agenda (after sex education) would be lessons for cooking Pinoy breakfast staples right. If we are to continue exporting housemaids, we might as well make sure they create a favorable impression first thing in the morning.

The cooking method described below applies to anchovies (the small kind), not to bigger buwad like danggit (rabbitfish) or nukos (squid). The author shall not be held responsible for failure on your part to heed this warning, or for the ridicule that may ensue. But you are welcome to drop me a line afterward to tell me about your debacle. Like Kermit the Frog says, green is as green does. Or is that Forrest Gump?

Crunchy Buwad Bolináw

I have purposely left out ingredient amounts. I advise you start small, say a cup of dried fish, for which you will need about a tablespoon of oil. Add corresponding amount for each additional cup of anchovies. (And since we are talking small, I might as well mention that those are #2 “nails” in the photos.)

• buwad bolináw (dried anchovy fry)
• oil, for frying

1. Put pan over high heat. Do not put in oil — yet. Wait for the pan to smoke before adding the dried fish.
2. Lower heat to medium and move dried fish around the dry pan until the fish turn slightly brown and release their characteristic aroma (but not the burnt kind; you may find you have to lower heat a bit more to avoid this).
3. Drizzle a little oil over the fish, just enough to coat them. Add more as needed, but you should not see oil pooling anywhere in the pan. Fry for a minute or two or until fish are browned and cooked through.
4. Transfer fish to a plate lined with a paper towel. Wait 3 to 5 minutes or until they are at room temperature; they will not crisp/crunch up until then. Serve with spiced vinegar.