Snails. In coconut cream. Did I hear somebody say “Again?” And yet all the ingredients for this dish were from nowhere near the sea (and that’s counting the market beside it), but from the wilds of Kap T.’s high-altitude bailiwick. You remember Kap, don’t you? Last time I went up to his barrio was on the eve of their fiesta.
By the way, I should tell you the local seafood market is looking a lot better than it did last week. Yesterday, lots of báwô (garfish) creatively curled up alongside lahing (cutlassfish) — creatures unlikely to ever grace our table (my father is notoriously choosy ). To be fair, I’m sure the usually abundant Bato fish market is not faring any better right now. Let’s just say that we’re slowly getting into the rhythm of the monsoon season.
Times like these, it’s nice to know there are freshwater alternatives other than bangus and tilapia. The snails in these photos were harvested from a stream some ten kilometers from the center of Kap’s mountain barangay. They are, I believe, fawn melania (Melanoides turricula), known as susong pilipit to Tagalogs and tabagwang to Bikolanos. Kap calls them bagdaw. Indigenous to the Philippines, these trumpet-like snails now also thrive in the US, introduced by aquarium hobbyists to springs and streams in Texas, Florida, and points in-between.
To prepare the snails, Kap said to chip (and discard) the pointed half off the shells. Being freshwater, they don’t have the briny kick of their marine counterparts, so the dish requires a bit more seasoning — and that’s where hon-dashi really comes in handy. Ever since I started using the condiment, my tinunuan has never been more warmly received. It’s essence of ocean in a sachet. Get yourself some.
The accompanying vegetable is dalilí, some kind of wild taro. Unknown in the lowlands, it’s what Eva (Kap’s cousin) says she and her mother used to forage for back in the day when food was hard to come by. It cooks quickly and has the texture of regular taro (or, to be exact, taro runners (takway)).
Despite the humble origins of its components, the dish isn’t something we get to enjoy often, and that makes it very special, indeed. Eva says I should ask Kap to bring uwang (freshwater shrimp) next time, but I don’t like the idea of him venturing into the forest at night on my say-so (because those creatures are apparently easier to catch then). Besides, habagat isn’t really all that bad. Some days are just leaner — way, way leaner — than others. Remember my herring sardines? It may come in handy one of those days.
This post has no comments.
Post a Comment