03 December 2014

The negotiator

Sweet & sour fish

Whether she’s buying ukay-ukay or lapu-lapu, Eva’s first instinct is to haggle. She has an aversion to paying full price and she’s shameless about it. Her standard spiel is that she’s with child and craving. Giving in to the whims of pregnant women (“lihi”) is one of the more parodied aspects of Filipino culture, but I’m not aware that it involves anything other than food. Why the used-clothing salesman would fall for her ruse is beyond me.

Maybe it’s because she haggles at all. I don’t. I refuse to. I can’t decide which mortifies me more: her haggling, or the thought of doing it myself. I tell myself it’s a woman thing, conveniently ignoring the fact that some of my male friends bargain just as brazenly. I guess I’m more macho that way, ha-ha.

I don’t go for discount cards, promos, rebates, points, raffles, or tie-ins. The only sale that sets my heart a-flutter is a Booksale. I’m easy prey for any vendor whose product I take a fancy to, even if a pair of pants isn’t such a good fit, or the crabs not particularly fat or meaty. I have a high tolerance for mendacity. I still buy from the shrimp lady even though she gouges the price and looks like Mussolini. She’s immune to Eva’s charm, by the way.

When Eva haggles, especially on my behalf, I move off to the side and pretend I’m with someone else. If I have to be rational about it, I have to admit there’s absolutely nothing wrong with bargaining. It’s an art, and it takes two to make it happen. I have since accepted I do not have the skills or the balls for it, but it makes for a fascinating sideshow. These are seasoned practitioners, armed only with words and the force of each other’s personalities. “O ha,” the vendor chides, “haggle any more and I'll be giving away my puhunan.” Eva goes for a final parry. “Asus, sige na. Do you want me to lose my baby?”

“Aren’t you too old for that shtick?” I always mean to ask her. Now I see that that’s beside the point. It’s just Eva’s way of throwing herself into the fray, as much an affectation as when Bruce Lee literally thumbs his nose before taking on an opponent. These vendors are not stupid. They know how the game is played. They just seem to really like Eva. It pays to be nice.

I am not not nice. If I resort to double negatives, that’s only because I’m aware I don’t radiate amiability. To know me is to love me. But you have to see me first. In short, I’m unremarkable to the point of invisibility — and utterly unwilling to make myself less so. That’s why I gladly pay full price. It takes friends to insist I’m worth more than that. Or should I say less? I’m not sure. Figures confuse me.

Thai-style sweet & sour fish

Thai-Style Sweet & Sour Fish

This dish has a lot of ingredients/components, but if you prep ahead it comes together quite quickly. Use lapu-lapu (grouper), maya-maya (red snapper), or any firm-fleshed fish. Kaffir lime leaf adds a bright, citrusy layer to the dish, so if you can get some (even dried), go for it (if dried, rub leaf between your palms to release the scent/flavor before adding to the pan).

  • 1 whole fish, cleaned
  • salt and pepper, to taste
  • 2 cups oil, for frying

  • For breading:
  • ½ cup flour
  • ¼ cup cornstarch

  • For the sauce:
  • ¾ cup water
  • ¼ cup vinegar
  • 1 tablespoon soy sauce
  • 2 tablespoons sugar
  • 2 tablespoons sweet chili sauce
  • 1 teaspoon sriracha or any hot sauce (optional)
  • 1 tablespoon cornstarch

  • 2 knobs ginger, julienned
  • 1 inner bulb of lemongrass, sliced on the bias
  • 2 cloves garlic, julienned
  • 1 each red and green bell pepper, julienned
  • 2 finger chilies, sliced thinly on the bias
  • 2 kaffir lime leaves, sliced thinly (optional)

  • For the salad:
  • 1 medium red onion, sliced
  • 2 ripe tomatoes, deseeded and diced
  • ⅓ cup diced cucumber
  • ⅓ cup pineapple chunks
  • ⅓ cup diced ripe mango

  • 1 tablespoon fish sauce
  • ½ teaspoon sugar
  • juice of ½ lime (or 2 kalamansi)

  • chopped cilantro or spring onion greens, to garnish
  1. Fillet fish. For best results, have the vendor do this for you. Score fillets and keep the frame (the bones, along with attached head and tail). Season with salt and pepper. Refrigerate until using.
  2. Soak onion slices in cold water for at least 10 minutes to reduce pungency. Drain well, then mix with tomatoes, cucumber, pineapple, and mango. In another bowl, combine fish sauce, lime (or kalamansi) juice, and sugar, then pour over salad mixture. Set salad aside.
  3. Heat oil in pan wide enough to accommodate fish slices. Dredge slices in combined flour and cornstarch. Shake off excess breading, then deep fry separately until crispy and golden brown. Remove from pan and let rest on paper towels to remove excess oil.
  4. In a bowl, stir together water, vinegar, soy sauce, sugar, sweet chili sauce, sriracha (if using), and cornstarch. Adjust to taste and set aside.
  5. Heat two tablespoons of oil in pan. Throw in ginger and lemongrass and sauté until fragrant. Stir in garlic, followed by finger chilies, kaffir lime leaves (if using) and bell pepper. Sauté for another minute before pouring sauce mixture into the pan. Stir constantly until sauce thickens. Turn off heat.
  6. Arrange fish slices on a platter to resemble a whole. Pour sauce and spices all over to coat, then spoon salad on top. Garnish with cilantro or spring onion and serve immediately.

This post has 3 comments.

  1. Mussolini the shrimp lady. Hahaha, Keep on writing!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It took me a while to figure out why her looks bothered me so much. Maybe it’s her perpetual smirk, but she really does look like Il Duce.

      Delete

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...