I’ve tried sprouting mung beans a few times. They grew, all right, but were otherwise hardly worth the trouble. I was under the impression they would come out gorgeously bulked-up like the taugi sold in supermarkets. To my dismay, mine were anemic and stringy, so you can forget about me doing a DIY post on that. Even the sprouts I get at the wet market aren’t as “healthy” — I’m betting on some kind of chemical treatment to account for the difference. Oh the irony.
My suki has gone through several taugi purveyors, most of them mediocre. I hope she latches on to her latest, because while those sprouts don’t seem like they’ve been fed Joe Weider protein shake, they’re robust and firm, a joy to clean and eat. There’s no kitchen chore more thankless than picking the roots off soggy bean sprouts. Tedious and time-consuming either way (there are roughly 200 individual sprouts in a quarter kilo; yes, I counted), I prefer to do it in the less stifling confines of the garden. I’m even thinking of getting a transistor radio to keep me company (if you’ve ever wondered about the future of the AM frequency, cooks (and jeepney/taxi drivers) are the reason it will never go away).
Come to think of it, a big part of why prepping bean sprouts is such a bitch is that the time it entails is inversely proportional to that in which to cook them. Upon my urging, my suki now offers pre-cleaned taugi for five pesos over the usual price. If anyone’s complaining, it’s her — for being unable to cope with demand.
Next to plonking them over a steaming bowl of phở (or any noodle dish), a stir-fry is the easiest way to serve taugi. Immerse prepped sprouts in cold water to firm them up some more. Meanwhile, mix together a quarter cup of chicken or vegetable broth, a tablespoon of light soy sauce, a teaspoon each of sugar and sesame oil, and a splash of rice wine. Heat a bit of oil in a big wok, sauté sliced red onion, slivered garlic, chunks of ripe tomato, and chopped finger chili, then add sprouts and the prepared liquid. Work taugi over and around to evenly coat with the liquid before covering pan. Cook for 3 to 5 minutes, stirring occasionally, or until sprouts are slightly wilted but still crunchy. Season to taste, then serve.
In case you’re not familiar with mung bean sprouts, you’ll find two kinds in the market. The first consists of the pale yellow seed (free of its coat) and a short radicle, or what will later become the main root. The nice thing about it is that it needs little to no prep work. Otherwise I don’t like the taste and mouthfeel (like slightly bitter raw nut). The sprouts featured here are the other kind — a week old, with stem, leaves, and identifiable roots. Amazing how they taste nothing like their younger selves — only better. They’re so good I could easily eat a whole plate, but that would be asking for the kind of trouble that sprouts from the base of my spine and leaves me paralyzed with excruciating pain for hours, often days. If you think that’s a deliberate pun I just made, you obviously don’t know what gout is.
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