A light, steady rain began to fall early the other night. Inday-inday, we call such precipitation: a lazy rain, “girlish,” taking its merry time about its business. Soon, Jenny texted that she was stranded at the gym (she had brought her bike to badminton practice). “Looks like we’ll just have to hit the grocery tomorrow.”
Fair enough. Anyway, I was still smarting from my check-out experience at the local Metro over the weekend. As I slid my cart into an empty lane, the girl at the register shook her head. “Senior citizens only,” she said, pointing to the sign.
“I can see that,” I replied. In fact, the sign said “Senior Citizen” — no “only” — but I was not there to argue semantics; I merely wanted to appeal to her common sense. “I also see there’s no one else here.” Whereas all the other counters were full. ”Unless you’re closing?”
“Senior citizens,” she repeated, as if truly sorry to not be of service. Maybe she really was. If I were in a better mood, I would have kidded her that she flattered me; I was not as young as I looked, I was on stem cell therapy, and isn’t modern science wonderful? But I had dinner to see to, so I let it go. In the meantime, some woman had lined up behind me.
“Are they asking for ID?” she asked as I wheeled the cart around. I looked at her, about to say yes, then thought better of it. She could pass for 60 — no point telling her that, either. The cashier rang her transaction without a peep.
It rained all through the night. Unable to sleep, I took out the pack of pork belly that had been thawing in the refrigerator — the very same pack Ms. Politically Correct had refused passage through her lane because I did not look old enough (although now that I put it that way, maybe I should’ve been flattered after all).
But enough of her. Let us talk water instead. Not rain, no: kitchen water — have you ever stopped to consider how much of it is wasted cleaning and preparing your food? Cooking, too. Is it really necessary to use so much, making a maskara (pork face) dish, for example? If you have been following this space, you know the answer is no. You don’t even need any. As in at all: certain cuts of meat already contain enough water to cook (steam?) itself to tenderness.
For a kilo of the aforementioned pork belly, I used a tablespoon of salt, also of granulated garlic, and a teaspoon of ground black pepper, then arranged the slices skin-side up in a pot small enough to keep them upright, added some crushed garlic, dried bay leaves, and black peppercorns, replaced the lid, and cooked over low heat for about 40 minutes.
If you have any doubts about the outcome, I refer you to the photos of the next day’s entrée. I shallow-fried the slices until pale brown on both sides (any more and the meat would have cooked stiff, which I hate). To make up for the wan color, I brushed with a mixture of oyster sauce and hot sauce. They looked better for it, and tasted as much, too. What’s more, the fatty liquid rendered in the process (it did not dry up, mind) was very flavorful, perfect for stir-fries, especially pancit (noodles). Not a drop went to waste.
Of course, zero water footprint is admirable, but like I said with the Metro cashier, let common sense prevail. If the liquid dries up before the meat has cooked, do not hesitate to add water, half a cup at a time. To see just how far the technique could be applied, I tried it with a whole leg of pork. It was not possible. Still, I only had to add two extra cups of H₂O to tenderize the pata. If only it were that simple to soften people up.
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