Filipino-Australian food is ‘sarap’ in this cookbook
While we Filipinos know and love our own cuisine, sometimes we need others outside our sphere to champion our cause; others who could point out the worth of things we often take for granted: the coconuts that grow abundantly in our 7,100 islands; the medley of sweet, sour, and salty flavors that make up our beloved dishes; the innumerable variations in our adobo, sinigang, and even in the ways we prepare our rice. They hold a mirror to our faces and show us images of who we are and are not. They broadcast to the world what we ourselves forget to say about the food we prepare and serve on our dinner tables.
The late Anthony Bourdain lauded praises on our cuisine in ways we never would have expected from an international celebrity. Martha Stewart expressed admiration for the dishes prepared in her television show by Filipino chef Romy Dorotan. And there are the restaurants overseas, which have won acclaim for their creative renditions of Filipino cuisine.
Now here comes Yasmin Newman, who has just published her second book celebrating the food of the Philippines. Titled Under Coconut Skies, the book is a paean to her Filipino roots and the wondrous ways it resonates with food and culture.
On a bright Tuesday morning, in the house of Australian Ambassador Hae KyongYu, Newman talked about the making of her 272-page book. “It’s about the stories that make up food, a journey through the islands of the Philippines and its enchanting fables,” Newman said.
Born in Australia to an Australian father and a Filipino mother, Newman grew up eating silog (fried rice with egg), halo-halo, ube and macapuno, which her mother would prepare. Frequent visits to the Philippines while she was growing up further developed her affinity for Filipino food.
The 400,000 Filipinos who live in Australia are an important component (of society) and have added to the Australian way of life.
So much so that she felt compelled to compile the recipes, which she published in her first book 7000 Islands, a Food Portrait of the Philippines. Gathering the recipes was challenging, she said, because when she would ask her mother about the ingredients, her vague replies would be: “Cook to taste,” or “Use a little of this, a little of that.”
Living in Australia, she had to learn how to make substitutions. But, as she soon realized, Filipino cuisine is adaptable. “If something wasn’t there,” she wrote in her book, “you simply waited until it was or came into season, substituting this or that and learning how to make do.”
For this, her second book, Newman spent three months in her mother’s hometown of Siargao, which she described as “our own piece of paradise.” There, she said, she savored the other side of the Philippines “where the dishes were light, fresh and vegetable-laden and artisan ways were preserved.”
The chapters in the book are descriptive, with titles such as “Stirring the Senses,” “Daily Traditions,” “Natural Beauty” and “Memories.” Equally descriptive are the recipes, like the rainbow and pomelo salad, ginger and turmeric infusion, charred greens with coconut and palapa oil, and coconut milk salmon with rainbow radishes. Using traditional ingredients and complex techniques, the dishes are not exactly what you would find in a typical Filipino cookbook. They’re inventive, creative and contemporary, while adhering to some age-old practices.
Above all, there are stories, lovingly told: of ancient practices long forgotten, of vibrant dishes that stir memories, of food that ignites one’s longing and sense of belonging.
Some of the recipes in the book are adaptations, such as the steak with brown butter, citrus and bay leaves, which is Newman’s own spin on the Tagalog bistek. In deference to Australia, the recipe calls for Scotch fillet steaks, a typical Australian cut of beef.
In fact, some of the recipes are Australian-inspired, such as the classic Pavlova, which she flavored with ube during her cooking demonstration at the event. There are also the sticky buns with cardamom sugar, and a trifle made with mango and rum syrup.
In this way, the book straddles the two cultures that make up the author herself and contributes to the multicultural society that is Australia.
“The 400,000 Filipinos who live in Australia are an important component (of society) and have added to the Australian way of life,” Ambassador HK Yu said. “They contribute to Australian culture and taste.”
To which Newman added, “Australian-Filipino food is sarap.”
Here, I’ve adapted Newman’s recipe for longganisa. In her book it’s served over Turkish bread. In the spirit of substitution, which she advocates (and because Turkish bread isn’t readily available in the Philippines), I’d recommend the use instead of an English muffin, pan de sal or perhaps a nice hamburger bun.
Longganisa
- 1/2 cup refined sugar
- 1 1/2 teaspoons salt
- 1 teaspoon freshly cracked black pepper
- 2 tablespoons cane vinegar
- 6 cloves garlic, chopped
- 1/2 bird’s-eye chili (siling labuyo), seeds removed, finely chopped (optional)
- 500 grams ground pork
- 2-3 tablespoons vegetable oil
For serving:
- Toasted halves of English muffin, or pan de sal, or hamburger bun
- Shredded lettuce leaves
- Pickled onions or plain onion slices
In a bowl, make a mixture of the sugar, salt, black pepper, vinegar, garlic and chili (if using). Add the ground pork. Combine well until smooth. Let rest a few hours (covered, in the refrigerator) to let flavors meld.
When ready to cook, shape the mixture into about six patties. Heat the vegetable oil in a skillet and fry the patties until thoroughly cooked, turning once. Remove from the heat and drain on paper towels.
Cut the bread in halves and toast or grill them. Line each bread half with shredded lettuce. Put a longganisa patty on top of the lettuce and top with onions. Serve.
