Probably maybe

I did say I would get back to you if the anchovy patties turned out any good fried, right? Well, you know what this means.

This is not news to my friends, who often chide me for the paucity of my enthusiasm for fish poached in vinegar — or, in this case, just salt. I can at least say that I like it better fried, although if one must go that route, I fail to see a marked difference in taste and texture to justify the intermediate step.

But I could be wrong.

Could it be the type of fish? I have only tried mangkô and bolináw thus far. Maybe certain kinds of fish actually improve cooked as inún-unán/paksiw prior to being fried — it is not inconceivable. Or is it the amount (even the kind) of vinegar used? Our inún-unán has very little of that, which is how my father likes his; I assume more vinegar flavors the fish accordingly (the banana leaf-wrapped anchovy patties, as I mentioned earlier, had none). Or maybe the vessel it was cooked in? (Some claim a clay pot works best.) Or the number of times your inún-unán had been reheated during the time it was left to sit, concentrating the flavor?

Or is it just me? There’s definitely that. When it comes to traditional Pinoy dishes, inún-unán is likely more so than adobo — and by that I mean older and more common. Too common, in fact. Whether down by the coast or up in the boondocks, it is a healthy and cost-effective way of making fish keep for days before the advent of refrigeration. Every home has a version (and some several) of it. Until I mustered the interest to cook the dish myself, so polled friends on the best way to do do it, it had never occurred to me how personal a matter it was, Pa notwithstanding — I thought he was just being his usual weird self.

At this point, for me the appeal of fried inún-unán lies squarely in the fried part. It’s a backward start, I guess. Still.