Kalabantos or winged bean holds the distinction of being the first vegetable I remember eating with gusto. You were a child once, too, so you should have an idea how monumental an achievement that had felt. It was also when I realized that my lola could make anything taste wonderful — if meat above all.
Adobo was one of two ways she served kalabantos (sigarilyas to Tagalogs), the other being salad. I’m sure Lola never cooked them with coconut milk because I served them that way with green beans a few weeks ago and my mother thought that variation of gising-gising new. That’s despite her own father tracing his roots to the Bicol region, his grandparents having made the move to Tacloban from Sorsogon in the late 1800s. Lolo Tering himself was proudly Waray, such identification doubtless bolstered by his father Kikoy’s involvement in politics, initially as municipal councilor of Tacloban, later as governor of Leyte (1908-1910), then eventually as a senator of the Philippine Legislature (1919-1925). A lawyer by profession, he went on to serve as adviser to President Manuel L. Quezon, who finally convinced him to accept the post of Justice in the newly created Court of Appeals in 1938 (Kikoy had earlier refused).
Which is to say that my great-grandfather was a very busy man. When his wife died after childbirth, he left my infant lolo and his older sibling to the care of their aunt, his sister. He remarried twice and was widowed as many times more. As a lieutenant in the Revolutionary Army, he took two bullets during an encounter with occupying American forces in 1900 — one in the chest, the other costing him a finger. In Leyte: The Historic Islands (1964), author Francisco Tantuico recounts how “Capitan Kikoy bided his time in the hills” while 22 soldiers occupied his home. “He staged an attack after a week, setting fire to his own house.” That kind of audacity would cost him the speakership of the National Assembly in 1935 when he dared oppose Quezon’s proposal to severely limit the powers of said position, the irony being that he was Quezon’s candidate.
Lolo Kikoy’s legacy looms large over our family, but if you ask Ma’s cousin Paul, it’s his genetic bequest we should always keep in mind. “He suffered horribly,” he reminds me every chance he gets. “I saw it. He turned yellow and smelled like something was putrefying inside of him.” Tito and I mostly communicate by email and he dutifully forwards me all kinds of health tips. They have their own folder — you know, just in case I decide to embark on the olive oil-and-lemon detox program (no solid food, just oil and juice for three days). Sometimes I want to remind him that Kikoy made it to 80, well beyond current average Filipino male life expectancy (66, as per the World Health Organization), and that was before the advent of modern medical innovations (and I’m not talking Liveraide). Besides, I’m less worried about my liver than my ticker: Ma’s father (Kikoy’s son) died of a heart attack in his sleep; Ma has had her mitral valve replaced, and my doctor warns that a section of my pericardium is ominously thin and could give out anytime. Then there’s my blood sugar for extra complication.
But I digress. Did you know winged bean is one of the most nutrient-rich of legumes? Versatile, too; the leaves, flowers, seeds, and tuberous roots are likewise edible, although locally we only get the pods. When buying those, younger is better, i.e., no more than 2 to 3 inches long, but to be honest I’ve never seen any that small. If indeed they taste better, as they have got to, I must also admit that I can’t imagine by just how much, content as I already am with the more mature pods.
For my adobo, I blanched the thinly sliced pods (about a dozen’s worth) for 2 minutes flat, then sautéed those with some garlic, onion, tomato, and bell pepper (all roughly chopped), plus 2 teaspoons of oyster sauce, one of light soy sauce, and a pinch of sugar, also for 2 minutes. Quick, easy, good. Now I realize it wasn’t simply abilidad that made my late grandmother’s cooking legendary among her family. Some vegetables make the job a lot easier for tasting the way they do. Not everybody knows this, to be sure, so go ahead and claim the spotlight for yourself. I can keep a secret and the kalabantos can’t complain.
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