A sizzling comeback

A few days ago the help was rummaging through the freezer when she came upon a slab of lechon belly. “What lechon?” I said. We spent a while speculating about its provenance, until we agreed it was probably from a party two months back — a minor detail, really; I had been too busy to do the marketing lately, so it was more of a welcome discovery.

We made paksiw out of that lechon. But it wasn’t until three days later that anyone took notice. Of course. Paksiw doesn’t taste as good until it has been reheated to a pulp. You should hear my cardiologist rhapsodize about fish paksiw. Fried, to boot. “You won’t believe how good it is,” he goes. I do, actually. What I can’t fathom is why he doesn’t take my word for it when I say the same about cigarettes.

Not all things improve with age. It’s a cruel fact. Albert Martinez is not the norm — his brother William is. That’s why we constantly need to re-invent. Even lechon loses its appeal around the second day.

I know what you’re thinking: What lechon? That looks like beef to me! You’re right, of course. It’s beef shank, to be exact, done sizzling-steak style. But it didn’t start out that way. Earlier in the day it was beef soup — what Tagalogs call bulaló and Cebuanos pochero, although I’m with the Tagalogs on this one: pochero is stew, not soup.

Beef soup is easy to re-heat and should taste better for it. The beef and the soup, at least — the vegetables, especially the greens, do not fare as well. Better to chop up fresh ones, although if I have to expend effort on an old dish, I might as well make something new — maybe even exciting — out of it.

So it’s more recycling than re-invention. Does that dish look recycled to you? The first (and only) time I had it at Abuhan, my first thought was, How easy is this? Well, I might have been a little drunk then, but it was a lot easier than lechon paksiw, which remains a hit-or-miss affair for me. You’ll have to have the brain of a fish fry to mess up this one.

Remove meat pieces from the cold soup and set aside. Strain the liquid and discard the greens; set aside the corn and bananas, if any. Add a teaspoon of oyster sauce and half a cup of cream of mushroom soup (or two tablespoons of powder) into the strained soup and mix well.

Heat some oil, add a little butter (or margarine), and fry the beef until browned. Remove meat from pan and pour out the oil. Add half a cup of water to the pan and boil for three minutes while scraping the bottom. Strain the liquid into the flavored stock, stirring so clumps don’t form.

Rinse out pan and return to heat. Sauté a handful of sliced onions in oil for a minute or two. Stir in sliced button mushrooms, if using. Cook for two more minutes. Pour in the soup mixture and keep stirring until liquid thickens into a sauce or gravy. Season to taste.

Arrange beef on a heated cast-iron plate (plus corn and bananas, if any) and pour sauce/gravy on top. Garnish with herbs/spices of your choice. Serve while it sizzles. With a mountain of rice, preferably. And several rounds of Tanduay to follow. On the rocks, please.

Can you keep a secret? No — not the recipe, dummy. I mean don’t tell my cardio. He may be flippant about his food, but he’s deadly serious about his patients. It’s not like he’s getting paid hearing me whine about my growing catalog of complaints. What can I do? He waves the money off (he attended medical school with some of my barkada). I should be ashamed of myself, really. My face is thicker than my damned arteries.